#ethan hawk is a pretty man i get it but how do you people watch shit just to see a man's bare chest ??? do you not care about a good story?
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When you want tumblr to have literally any content about a good movie but all anyone cares about is seeing a shirtless man
#ethan hawk is a pretty man i get it but how do you people watch shit just to see a man's bare chest ??? do you not care about a good story?#the black phone#joe hill
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Whatever you say, Miss.
You are the inspiration to the song “Carolina”
3k words.
Masterlist
It was a Saturday night, the first one Harry had free since the album was released. All he had in mind was to chill, watch a romantic movie, maybe read a little, but all his plans were rejected as soon as he received a text message call from his friend Gilland Jone.
“Hey man, up for a get-together?” – G
“When? Right now?” – H
“Yeah, it’s a pub here in LA, not too far from your place, come, it will be fun. There someone I want you to meet either” – G
“Who is the person?” – H
“Not telling you, silly. Consider this a blind date. But seriously, come, not just for the date, but for the fun, it’s Saturday night anyway”
Harry thought about that for a while, but he replied right away, wanting to know the address. What the worst that could happen?
Taking the stairs to get to the second floor, where his room was, Harry opens his closet, wearing a red flower t-shirt and skinny jeans. After that he goes immediately to his car, just stopping to grab his keys and wallet on the way.
Heading down to the pub, he starts to think to himself about the person he was about to meet. He has been on a couple of blind dates before, but they weren’t necessarily good, the girls he met before were often fangirling about him, which made him uncomfortable. All he wanted was just to be Harry, not THE Harry Styles. He was confident this night would bring this to him.
As Harry gets out of his thoughts, he realized he was already near to the pub. So, he just searches for a free parking space, finding one right in front of the pub. He locks the car and goes straight for the door. From the outside was possible to hear the loud music, the chats, and the laughs, Harry gets more excited than ever.
As he enters, all the sound gets more vivid, he sees people dancing, recognize ones, others don’t. He meets friends in the industry that he hasn’t seen in a long time, like Zack Braff. The two chat for a while but are interrupted by Gilland.
“Hi, Harry! You came!”
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Hey Zack, let me borrow Harry for a bit”
Then she grabs his shoulder moving him to the back of the pub, not giving time for Zack to respond.
“Harry, all the drinks tonight are on me, so make yourself at home, and don’t worry, after you got in, I asked for the security to not let anyone inside. So, there won’t be any crazy fan”
“Thanks, Gill, all that I could ask for, a night out and free drinks,” He says that with a laugh.
“But don’t drink too much sir”
“Of course, I won’t, Miss”
She just chuckles and turns his back from him, to go with her friends, but his hand on her shoulder prevents her from doing so.
“What about the blind date? Is the girl already here?”
Gill just looking around, with a questioning glance.
“She was right there,” She says pointing to the very last sit, between the wall and the bar. “She is probably in the bathroom, sit next to the sit, she must be out any minute. Now I must go, bye”.
Harry tried to stop her again, how he is going to know who the girl was? Isn’t Gill, the one who arranged everything to introduce them? But he just gives up, once she was already mixed in the crowd.
He just shrugs, and goes sit next to the sit Gill pointed, when the girl arrived, he just must introduce himself. As he sits by the bar counter and asks for a martini.
While the bartender was making the drink, somebody just takes the seat next to him, he looks at her almost instantly, she smiles at him and the bartender leaves the martini in front of Harry before he goes, the girl grabs one of the arms of the man.
“Excuse, could you make me a martini too? With a lit bit more of alcohol, please” She says while smiling
“Yeah miss, right away” And leave both strangers alone for the first time in the night.
“So, you must be Gill’s friend? Right?” He says smiling, giving his hand a shake. She retributes, shaking his hands with her tiny fingers.
“Well, I am her younger sister. You must be my blind date, Harry?” She says at the same times she drinks from her martini, that has just arrived.
“That must be me, nice to meet ya” Harry respond, looking straight at her eyes, they were beautiful, at the bottom of them were a little bit of mascara, but strangely, in her didn’t seem like a mistake or a miscue, It made her look like a warrior or something, even do she was wearing a feminine, black dress.
“I am (y/n), glad to meet you as well” (y/n) says while looking at him, damn, her sister was right, he is attractive, he smiles is beautiful, and those eyes, dammit. “Nice shirt, by the way” (y/n) continues.
“Thanks, it’s one of my favorites” and chucks. “So… extra alcohol on the martini?”
“A little bit more of alcohol won’t do any harm, plus, I am proud to say, I have a great intolerance to the boozes” (y/n) says with a cocky smile, harry just laughs.
“Well, this certainly is proud material” Harry responded, “Since you are alcohol proof, you must know a lot of drinks, so, tell me, what do you think I should ask next?”
(y/n) puts her hand on her chin, as she was thinking hard, and as she does that, she notices Harry’s eyes going directly to her mouth, and she does like this attention. “I would say, bloody Mary”
“Whatever you say, Miss” And he waves at the bartender and asks two bloody Maries.
“So, where did you meet my sister?” (y/n) says, looking at Harry, before moving to his eyes, she gives a short glance at his lips, they were so pink. She starts to think they both kissing, that would be a great end of the night.
The glance she gives Harry is not unnoticed by him, he smirks and answers her question. At the same time, the bloody Maries arrived.
“We met a long time, in one of those after parties, she got friends with me because… well, both of us like partying a lot, but I guaranty you, alcohol immune it’s not something in the DNA of you sister. ‘Cause at the end of the night I end with puke in my suit” Harry says laughing, remember the day, it’s was kind of disgusting, but the party was really good.
(y/n) laughs hard, and Harry just looks at her, she was such a pretty woman.
“Oh my God, she never told me this story! I am going to tease her for the rest of her life!” Then, she ends her untouched bloody Mary with just one sip.
Harry looks at with wide eyes.
“wow wow, easy tiger” And he pats her back slightly.
“I am okay, no worries. You are looking like that because you never see me in one of the college parties, I am worse than Ethan Hawkings, you know?”
“What are you studying in college and also, who is Ethan Hawkings?” Harry crossed his eyebrows, not knowing what she was saying, and he gives a sip of the bloody mary.
“I am studying philosophy, and Ethan it’s the character of a book I love!”
“hmm, so we got a pretty alcoholic philosopher bookworm right here,” He says and looks her deeply in her eyes, giving the gulp that ends his drink.
“I think we could say that, yeah” She giggles, reciprocating the look he gave her.
“Where do you go to college? Here in LA?”
“Yeah, I started college back in my home state, Carolina, but I just got enough of there, but I was confused, not knowing if I would be able to move from home. So, I went to my gramma and she said (y/n), better swimming before you drown, after that, I called my sister, so I move in with her, and I asked my transferring papers to the University of LA. And here I am” She said, with that cocky smile again.
“I think we can add audacious to your quality list,” Harry said, moving his sit closer to her, which (y/n) liked very much.
“My mom doesn’t think this is a quality though, she says I am the death of her with my reckless behavior. But what can I do? I am Just listening to the older and swimming before I drown”.
“I think you are right,” Harry said with a smirk.
“Hey, do you want to go out? I saw a large party going on the house of my neighbor, we could be there” (y/n) says this getting near to Harry’s mouth.
Harry gets even closer but turns the way to her ears and says with a whisper “Whatever you say, Miss”.
She jumps from the sit and goes in the direction of the door, but harry holds her arms gently “Darling, there are probably paps outside, do you mind leaving with the back door? We can get a cab or something.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
He looks at her and just smirks.
The pair go outside by the back door and get in the first cab they can.
While getting in, (y/n) says the address to the drives, which has kind of close, in Beverly Hills. Harry got a little sad, he wouldn’t mind being with her in such a small place as the back seat of a car. They did just normal conversation and just sang along with the songs on the radio.
They got in the location and split the bill of the cab. As they got out of the car (y/n) pointed at two big white houses.
“We live in here, and there it’s my neighbor party, let’s go.” She grabbed him by the arm.
“Were you invited to this party?” Harry askes
“Nope.” (y/n) answer.
“That’s what I thought, acting like a bad girl”
“I am not a bad girl, I am audacious,” She says that on her tiptoes, facing his face. “Am I right?”
“Huh, Whatever you say, Miss” And he puts a hand on her waits, bringing her closer, she leans and just packs his lips, Harry wanted to do so much more, but before he could grab her tighter, she just went in the direction of the party. And he follows her, she had him wrapped around her finger already.
As they got into the house, (y/n) goes directly to the drinks, catching one for Harry as well. They went to sit on the couch near the pool of the house. There weren’t a lot of people in there, but the few that have didn’t seem to notice the intruders.
“I am so excited, I am feeling like one of the characters of the books I read” (y/n) says “The one I read about getting into others people’s house didn’t end well, but, fuck right?” As she says that, she puts both hands in the back of his neck, bringing their lips together.
Finally, Harry thought to himself.
When their tongues met for the first time, a shiver went through Harry’s body, he puts his hand on the back of her hips, bringer her closer. They broke the kiss to catch their air.
“Will you stay in LA when you finish college?” Harry asks, taking away the blurred lipstick from her mouth.
“Probably not, I never see myself like one of the cali girls, you know, never see myself as someone living in this part of America.”
“So where do you see yourself living?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know, everywhere?” She says giggling “What about you? Where do you see yourself living?”
“Don’t know darling, anywhere I can do my music, like Jamaica, Japan, here… But whenever I go, I know I won’t be going too long, always get to go to England to mum” He chuckles and she smiles at him, kissing again.
In the middle of the kiss hears somebody shouting, the people were doing the “Throw him in the pool” kind of prank.
“We better get out of here before someone see us,” Harry says, holding her hand.
“Yeah” She responds.
But as they were going to the house, she pushes him into the pool.
Harry falls unexpectedly, he emerges and looks at her, she had a cocky smile on her lips.
She stands in the same place, as he makes his way out of the pool, currently, everybody notices them, but they were too drunk to care.
Harry gets closer to her, she tries to run, but he grabs her firmly at her hips, he brings his lips to her ear, licking them slightly.
“So, you think it’s cool to throw people in the pool, darling?” He grabs more firmly at her hips “You are lucky you are cute”
She gives him his cocky smile again.
“Do you want to go to my place? It’s the house next door” she says, his hands still on her.
“Yeah, darling. Do you go some clothes for me to change there, though?” He says letting go of her hips, following her as she walks out of the pool area.
As he says that, she turns immediately.
“You won’t need clothes for what we are going to do there, darling. Wait here and I will get you clothes.”
“Wait where are you going? Please do not break into your neighbor or…”
But the girl was soon gone into the stairs.
Harry just stands there.
Some minutes later she gives him a simple t-shirt and men’s shorts.
“Please don’t tell me you stole this” Harry said, already knowing the answer.
“Don’t worry, he won’t notice, his closet is bigger than mine”
Harry just rolls his eyes.
“Now come on Brit boy, let me help you get out of these wet clothes” Harry does like that.
Both of them walk fast to the house next door, as (y/n) opens the door, Harry closes it fast, taking the girl in his arms and putting her against the door.
Harry goes directly to the region of her neck, sucking urgently, the girl just moans and says “Let’s go to my room yeah? It’s better, it’s the first door on the second floor”.
Harry takes on his arms, now kissing her, while going in the direction of the room, he opens the door, and puts her on the bed, staying up.
“I would love the help with the clothes now, darling, I want to make another thing wet, not your bed,” Harry says with a smirk.
He leaves a space, so she can seat, and the girl helps him taking the t-shirt, leaving it on the floor, as she goes does to his trousers, she can already see the excess of Harry’s pants, squeezing it.
As she manages to have him only on his boxers, he hovers over her. Leaving kisses on her collarbone, he leaves hickeys, to make her remember. Both now they won’t see each other again, she is just free.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me, darling? I’ve seen the way you look at me since the put” She just moans from the kisses.
His lips are so soft, but they can be so hard. Everywhere he puts his lips left a mark on his tongue. Oh, this tongue.
He keeps kissing, this time putting his hand on her belly skin, grabbing lazily at her ribbons.
“What about taking this little dress off, darling? Do you want that?” He askes lazily, moving now to her ears, licking them unhurried.
“Yeah, please, please take off” (y/n) says between moans.
“Please, huh?” She can feel him smirking on the side of her neck.
He stops the kissing, griping at the end of the dress, he pulls it slowly, wanting to watch her body, her tights, her red panties, her belly, and oh those tits.
Her body reveals to him, and it’s just the feeling of delight.
“Such good tits, such a good body, so so beautiful”
He then starts to kiss her belly, leaving a trail of his tongue, until he meets his goes, he starts to suck firmly on her nipples. Her hands go directly to his hair. She moans, the things he can do with his mouth are marvelous.
As he sucks on her little pink nipples, he presses his tongue side to side, wanting to feel her little bud getting harder and harder each time.
He alternates to the boob, doing the same thing with the breast he left, he starts squeezing it, pinching the nipple hard.
“Yeah Harry, right here” (y/n) moans
Harry moves to her neck again, but (y/n) changes positions with him.
“Now you wanna be up huh?” Harry says with a smirk, but it disappears as she starts sucking on his neck. Her month is urgent, but her tongue is relaxed.
She wants to feel him, taste him, get him wasted.
“Huh, Darling, so good” Harry moans.
(y/n) start going down on his body, licking and kissing every singles part of his delicious torso. She makes her way until she gets to the best part, she takes his boxer off, showing her all of him. She was amazed. His cock was thick, hard, and big. She could feel the excess veins on.
(y/n) starting to touch him, first in the big head, just with her fingertips, just to spread the pre-cum.
“You are so big, so tick, can already imagine you feeling me in with every inch, Harry. You will feel so good” She says that leaking his neck.
Harry can’t say anything, he wants to feel her, wants to feel her hand, her mouth, her cunt, everything, everything she has to offer.
She keeps kissing his neck, but this time, she starts to move her hand, up and down, tight and slowly, like sweet torture.
“How does my hand feel around your cock? Tell me” She starts to kiss his collarbone.
“So good darling, please”
She goes down until she replaces her hands with her lips, she starts feeling his head, tasting his pre-cum, then she gets inch after inch.
“Gonna put all my cock in this little dirty mouth, pet?” Harry howls.
Harry grabs (y/n)’s hair, commanding the speed and the deepness. Such a good girl.
As he feels himself close, he takes her mouth off his cock, she does a pout, and then he explains while grabbing her, making her bareback meet the mattress.
“Wan’ to be inside your little cunt, can I pet?” He asks brushing his lips on her ears
“Yes, please.” (y/n) bagged
Harry take the only piece of fabric there was on her lovely body.
Harry starts rubbing her clit. He puts two fingers in her entrance, starting to move lazily.
“Need to feel if you are wet enough, right pet? Need to stretch out this cunt a little bit.”
“Just go, please, need ya.”
“I need ya to pet, come on”
Harry puts his cock head on her little cunt.
“Nice and slow pet, you will be ok.” He says, stretches her out with his cock, inch by inch. She feels so good. So warm, so tight.
“I am all in, pet.”
“Move please, move slowly, need to feel you.”
Harry does as tell, started to move bit by bit, he wanted to feel every part of her walls, the way they accepted his thick cock in her narrow pussy.
“You are so good Harry, can feel your veins, everything, you feel like home, need more Harry”
Harry goes fast, and (y/n) can feel his pubs contacting with her clit, every time he would push him out, just to be in again.
He starts to rub her little bottom, seeing her like that, all fucked up, moaning, dripping sweat, it was the prettiest view. He soon will be wasted.
“Do you like the way my cock feels inside you, pet? So good right, you are such a good girl, darling, come on, cum for me. Will ya?”
With those filth words leaving Harry’s lips, she just can’t, her wall starts to swallow his cock, squeezing him even more. He rubs her clit a little more and she is a goner.
Her body starts to flutter, and the moans get higher as she released herself to him.
“Shh, calm down pet, I got you”
Harry gives more trust, feeling her pussy embrace him with little spasms. And he feels his milk leaving his cock, getting into her pink walls.
Harry puts himself over her, sharing his weight with the bed, still inside her. Feeling her one last time. She feels so good.
“I am gonna take off, darling”
She starts to mumble
“Shh, it’s ok, hold on pet”
He gets off her and lays by her sad in her bed. He pets her cheeks.
“Hey, are you alright?” harry askes
“Yeah, just really fucked up,” She says laughing to look at me
And both laugh together for the last time. And it just felt right.
On the next day, (y/n) wake up with a little card on her pillow.
Hope you always retain your freedom and audacity. You are the universe in form of a girl.
Hope I am one of the characters of your books, cause now, you surely are a melody to one of my songs.
Love H.
#harry styles#hs#harry one shot#one shot#one shot masterlist#one shot smut#one shot fluff#harry fanfiction#fluff fanfic#harry fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff blurbs#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut blurbs#harry styles one direction#one direction fanfiction#harry styles imagine#imagine masterlist#smut imagine#imagine#harry styles fluff imagine
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The Grey Palace
So this a book I’m really hoping to actually finish! It’s a horror slasher story, but it’s set on a cruise ship. I’m posting the first chapter for my followers to read if they’re interested in following along with the creation and storyline! Feedback is greatly appreciated!
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A sleek grey seagull was perched on the wooden guard rail around the churning green ocean. It shifted from foot to pink foot, ruffling unruly feathers, and squinted beady black eyes up at the giant ship looming above it. It looked suspicious of the vessel, and even more suspicious of the people boarding its mass.
The Grey Palace was the greatest cruise ship to ever exist--or so all the Yelp reviews claimed. It included casinos and spas and waterparks and food! But only if you pay for it, because it’s not like you already paid $425 for a single ticket for your four person family.
It was a colossal sea beast, made out of the finest and toughest extra-strength steel plates and boasting the largest size of a cruise ship in the whole world at a staggering 1,854.25 feet in length and 265.74 feet in height. It had a tonnage of 230,000 gross tons, outweighing every other ship in the business. Its hull could shatter icebergs, its bow could split the sea in two, its propellers were more powerful than any jet or rocket in the entire world. Luxurious lounges and steamy spas promised the best relaxation, the waterpark and Kid’s Club proclaimed full entertainment for children, and the restaurants provided the best food on the seven seas. It got its name from the lustrous grey color it was painted, reflecting rainbows all across the body of the ship.
Everybody wanted to board the floating Palace, and only a select few got the invitation into the Aquatic Kingdom.
But in this case, a “select few” meant 8,700 people.
The boarding dock was clamored with passengers. Families that made the mistake of keeping their luggage on them instead of turning it in to the porters, families that trying to keep all their kids from running off, families already bickering over what they were going to do first, all packed into one area that was treacherously close to the ocean and a giant ship that would easily be able to sweep a fallen victim underneath its mass. One woman had her toddler on a child leash like it was a dog, tugging on the rope every once and awhile when the kid tried to run off. Another mom was herding her family in close to take a selfie, earning disgruntled noises from the children when they had to squint and smile up into the sun. A man was loudly talking to a video camera he was holding, most likely making a vlog for YouTube that would only probably get 67,000 views and 1,230 likes. Worryingly close to the edge of the dock was a pair of kids, pointing into the water and calling out what they saw while their parents obliviously chatted with some other people. Several porters were furiously helping everyone board, sweat beading their brows as they worked diligently.
The seagull watched them all, raising its beak in a haughty manner. It seemed miffed by the intrusion of so many humans in its territory, but didn’t have the strength or size to do anything about it, so it just gazed judgmentally from a distance. Its dark eyes shifted over to the girl looking back at it, then screeched in surprise when she was shoved, jerking open its narrow wings and leaping away into the air.
“Come ON, Violet!!” Ethan shrieked.
Violet staggered to the side, nearly tottering into someone behind her while she attempted to regain her balance. She clenched her fists, growling softly in her throat for a moment before letting her anger dissolve away.
“I’m coming,” She said.
“You’re being SLOWWWW!!” Aiden yelled, earning a few glances from other people because of his volume.
“Sorry,” Violet muttered, hunching her shoulders in.
Her family bustled across the port, getting closer and closer to the gangway with each, but before they could cross the threshold, a ship photographer jumped into their path, wearing a painfully cheery grin and brandishing a bulky camera.
“Would you like to take a family photo before boarding?” She asked, waving an arm to a photobooth set up. The backdrop was of The Grey Palace sailing.
“Can we, Mama?” Felicity asked Deandra eagerly, tugging at her arm.
Deandra smiled down at her. “Of course, dear!”
They hustled over to the backdrop. Violet attempted to follow, but Tobias stood in her path and firmly said, “Not you.”
Violet backed away obediently, not bothering to argue.
She watched as the seven of them posed for a photo, the epitome of a white, rich family. Deandra was fifty-four, but she was constantly being praised for how good she looked for her age. Unblemished, glowing ivory skin, clear of any wrinkles, and dyed champagne blonde hair. Her neck and wrists were loaded with jewelry, but her hawk-like amber eyes were sharper and brighter than the diamonds she wore, always locating every one of Violet’s flaws.
Tobias was like her toy, even though he was older, bigger, and burlier than she was. He was as nicely dressed as his wife, clad in a tweed jacket despite the summer Whittier heat and expensive jeans and a gold watch that cost more than all their tickets combined, but he still had the face of a lizard, dull blue eyes, and brittle, greying hair that he would slather with enough gel to start a fire. But he was rich, being one of the top congressmen in the state, and had a sharp-tongue that pleased Mother, both audibly and physically, and was very easy to walk all over. Violet guessed that was why Mother even kept him around.
Carly was their pride and joy. She had a supermodel body, thin and tan, with long, luscious blonde hair and the bright blue eyes of Father. She was pretty, but cruel, like a diamond wrapped in barbed wire. Her words were always loaded with venom, manipulative and cunning and bearing no mercy or guilt over what she said. She was harsh and cold, which was probably why she still wasn’t married at twenty-seven, and when Violet told her this after her favorite paints were stolen, she beat her into unconsciousness. Violet still had the long, winding scar across her left side from when she had been lashed with the sharp edge of a broken flower vase.
Tobias Jr., or just Toby, was the exact opposite of the man he was named after. Out of all her siblings, he was Violet’s favorite. He was a coward and a boot-licker, but he was genuine and had a good heart. He got Violet into The Walking Dead and once cleaned off her back when Father whipped her with his belt after she talked back over something controversial, but provided little help against her mistreatment, being just as scared to stand up to their parents. Still, it was a step up over everyone else. His dark amber eyes were doe-like and his brown hair was always unruly no matter how much he brushed it. In a way, he almost reminded Violet of the seagull, watchful and cautious.
Felicity was Mother’s mini me and Father’s little princess. Her wavy hair showed the natural hue of Mother’s, honey blonde, but her eyes were the deep blue of Father’s. She was incredibly slick and deceptive, as well as exceptionally greedy, always able to get whatever she wants whenever she wants it. She was dripping with as much jewelry as Mother was, maybe even more, and looked at everyone else with great disdain, disgusted at how ugly they were compared to her. Her voice was like the squeal of a pig, and she often preened herself in any reflective surface that could serve as a mirror. At age eleven, she already thought she was the queen of the world.
Aiden and Ethan were nothing but imps. Violet didn’t even know why Mother and Father had them; there was no point in their existence. They just lived to take up space and time and money, but their parents treated them like they were heirs to the throne. They were near identical, with dirty blonde hair in a mushroom-like shape around their heads and eyes so dark they looked brown instead of amber. All they seemed to know how to do was eat food and cause chaos, often forcing themselves into Violet’s personal space just to annoy her.
That was the Nicotero family. The rich, flawless Nicotero family, perfectly happy without the illegitimate child chained to them by blood.
Violet, the kid who the congressman cheated on his wife to have on accident, named after a flower because her father couldn’t think of anything better than the plant he saw squashed on the side of the sidewalk when he was fleeing the scene after stealing her from her mother’s breast mere days after being born.
Violet, the girl with weirdly pale grey eyes that no one else in her family had and hands that never seemed to stop fidgeting with things and an overly anxious mind that contrasted with a bursting internal temper.
Violet, the library for all the should have’s-could have’s-would have’s, an encyclopedia of everything that shouldn’t have happened, an example of what her siblings were not supposed to be.
Violet, the fifteen-year-old with vibrant petals curled towards her family, but poisonous roots lying beneath, just like her name’s sake.
“Say ‘cruise ship’!”
“CRUISE SHIP!!!”
The camera flashed and the photo was taken.
Violet blinked her eyes; they were sore in the sunlight. She shifted from foot to foot as she waited for her family to finish up at the photobooth. She wondered if they would put it on the fridge like all the other photographs she wasn’t a part of. They never put up the things she was in.
“Come on! Come on! Come on!” Felicity yipped, pulling on Father’s arm. “I wanna get on already!!!”
“We’re coming, we’re coming,” Father chuckled. He somehow had all the patience in the world when dealing with the squealing Felicity, but once yelled at Violet for taking too long to tie her shoes.
The Nicotero family pushed their way through the crowd to the closest gangway, shoulder checking other people and trodding over feet without pity in the process. Violet did her best to apologize to anyone they disturbed, seeing as no one else was, so she walked down the walkway and glass doors slightly turned around, and when she faced forward again, she got her first glimpse of the place where she would be spending the next one hundred days.
The main atrium was a giant room with a high-vaulted ceiling and looked like it had been carved out of glass; every surface was shiny and spotless. There were spiral staircases and grand steps and visible catwalks coiled around the walls, all bursting with activity. A marble fountain with intricately designed leaping dolphins was burbling softly in the center of the room, and King the Silver Polar Bear, the mascot of The Grey Palace, was standing in front of it, waving to passengers as they came in and occasionally taking photos with kids who came up to him. Violet must have been staring for a bit too long because he spotted her and pointed, then waved her over. Violet shook her head and said, “No thanks” but Felicity shoved her over with a shrill, “Go say hi, Violet! Someone actually wants to see you!”
Violet staggered forward, feeling that sensation of rage bubble up inside of her again, but, like before, it dissipated rather quickly, as there was nothing she could do. She merely sighed and looked up at the large grey bear now looming over her.
“Umm… Hi.” Violet said awkwardly. What were you even supposed to say to the mascots? Especially when you have to talk to them against your will?
King waved cheerfully. The head of the suit was set in a petrified, open-mouth smile and the eyes were permanently wide and glowing with glee. It was almost unnerving in a way. Was the person underneath the mass of grey fur as happy as the skin it was wearing?
“Uhh… Sorry, I don’t really know what to say.” Violet said, cringing internally. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire.
King made a dismissive hand gesture, then pat her head. The action felt profoundly awkward, but Violet was polite and said goodbye before shuffling back over to her family with her head ducked. Felicity and the twins exploded into high-pitched giggles.
“Violet. Don’t run off.” Mother said sharply, staring down her nose as Violet.
“Yes, Mother,” Violet muttered.
Carly suddenly looked up from her phone. “We should go get drinks. The rooms probably aren’t ready yet.”
Mother nodded. “Good idea.”
She led the pack through a wide hallway, whisking by other passengers like she was the queen of the Aquatic Kingdom. On the way, Toby shuffled over to Violet.
“I don’t like those people in costumes,” He said. “Gives me the creeps.”
Violet peered up at him. “How old are you?”
“Oi! Rude!” Toby elbowed her gently. He never tried to purposely hurt her. “So… What do you think?”
Violet gazed around the hallway. It was lit up brightly, casting colorful shadows across the painted walls.
“It’s nice,” Violet said. “Nicer than any place I’ve been to. Aside from the house, of course.”
She had been shocked when Mother told her about the cruise a week before her freshman year ended. It was going to be a big family trip, and she was actually invited. Usually she was left out of these things. Being alone at their mansion for a week or so at a time while the rest of her family was out travelling or on vacation had been a normal affair ever since she was eleven.
Toby frowned for a moment at that, then quickly said, “It’s gonna be fun.”
They passed through a set of glass doors and entered onto one of the many decks. Surprisingly, there weren’t too many people out yet, as everyone was probably still getting checked in or exploring. Mother glided over to a canopy bar and began ordering.
They probably spent an hour at that bar, sipping brightly colored cocktails and chatting avidly over their plans for the trip. Violet stayed out of it, of course. She sat at the smooth wooden counter, twirling a pink drink umbrella and scrawling mindless thoughts in a small purple notebook to pass the time.
An elbow as pointy as a dagger jabbed into her back at one point, making her pen streak across her page, leaving a permanent black like through the written words. She clenched her jaw and turned around.
“Yes?”
“Come ON!” Felicity said. “We’re going to go eat!”
“Didn’t you hear us talking?” Father squinted at her.
“Sorry. I must have dozed off.” Violet said.
Carly scoffed. “You shouldn’t even be here.”
Nobody said anything against this. Violet didn’t, either.
They went to the buffet where lunch was waiting, and Mother grumbled about how many people there were, but they eventually sat down to eat, their plates piled with food. Violet got more than she intended, but ate everything, just now realizing how hungry she was. She got judgemental looks from her family, but she did her best to just ignore them.
After lunch, they finally checked into their cabins. They got the suites, of course.
Mother, Father, and the twins got the largest room, one with a queen bed and bunk beds for Aiden and Ethan. Carly and Felicity room together, while Violet stayed with Toby. It was fine with her, really. She rather be with her older brother than any of the others.
The rest of the day was spent preparing for the trip. Toby took the twins and Felicity to get signed up for the Kid’s Club, while Carly hooked up with some friends also on the cruise, Mother went to make reservations for the spa, and Father already began drinking.
Violet stayed in her cabin, writing away in her notepad while listening to the TV drone on. She finally got up and went out when the sun began to set, unknowingly stumbling right into a departure party on the main deck.
Music blasted as thousands of bodies writhed around together. Several people were in the pool, splashing around loudly, while others were watching the entertainment shows with great interest. Violet couldn’t stand all the noise, so she ventured to the back of the ship and watched as the land slowly disappeared on the horizon.
A man leaned against the railing a few feet away from her as the golden-orange sunset was starting to turn a bright red color. After he blew out a wisp of smoke from the lit cigarette he had, he said, “This is gonna be one hell of a trip.”
As the first firework was set off at the deck, Violet replied, “You can say that again.”
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Dead Poets Society: The Story
Dead Poets Society opens in a pretty traditional way: with the first day of school.
It’s the beginning of a fresh school year for transfer student Todd Anderson (Ethan Hawke), new, shy kid on the block at Welton Academy, a prestigious prep-school for boys, located in Vermont. At the opening ceremony, older recruits march through a church, down the aisles full of other students, carrying banners that display the words: Tradition, Discipline, Honor, and Excellence. New students light candles, and, most importantly, headmaster Nolan takes to the podium to welcome the new students, and shy, quiet Todd Anderson sits in the pew, looking nervous as Headmaster Nolan begins his speech, discussing the four Pillars of the school, the prestigious nature of the establishment, and introducing the new English teacher: John Keating (Robin Williams).
The panel of teachers, sitting behind Nolan, is notably older and grayer than Keating, who, while not a terribly young man, is considerably more lively and animated than his new colleagues. This will be important later, but not right now. (Spoilers below!)
After the ceremony, the courtyard in front of the school is full of parents saying goodbye to their sons. It is here that we learn something interesting about Todd: he has, as Nolan puts it, “big shoes to fill” . As it turns out, Todd’s older brother was a student here, and a pretty good one. Even more nervous, Todd files out of the courtyard with the rest of the students, where we meet Todd’s to-be roomate: Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard).
Neil Perry seems to be Todd’s complete opposite in personality. He’s confident, and out-going, and is expected by Nolan to be doing ‘great things’ this year. He takes Todd up to their dorm room, and there, Todd meets Neil’s friends: Knox Overstreet (Josh Charles), Richard Cameron (Dylan Kussman), Stephen Meeks (Allelon Ruggiero), Gerard Pitts (James Waterson), and Charlie Dalton (Gale Hansen). The boys get comfortable in Neil and Todd’s room, teasing Neil for being made to take chemistry courses over the summer. The laid-back nature of the introductions is cut short, however, by a knock at the door.
It’s Neil Perry’s father (Kurtwood Smith).
Mr. Perry tells Neil that he has spoken to Mr. Nolan, and has cut all of Neil’s extra-curricular activities for the year, including the school yearbook, as he doesn’t want Neil distracted from the end-goal of medical school. Neil tries to argue, but is quickly shot down.
After Mr. Perry leaves, the other boys encourage Neil to stand up to his father, but he refuses, resigned to doing what he’s told. The other boys leave, inviting Todd to join them for a Latin study group the next day.
The next day, on the first true day of classes, the boys pass through lesson after lesson, taught by wizened, distinguished men who bore their students to tears.
And then comes English class.
Mr. Keating enters the room, passes his entire classroom, and heads for the opposite door, telling his class to follow him. Confused, the class obeys.
Keating takes them out to the hallway, encouraging them to look at the case full of pictures of Welham alumnus, and tells them that those who first attended Welton, explaining that these people who were once young, are now old, or even dead.
“Carpe diem, seize the day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”
He also recites to them some poetry:
“O Captain, my Captain. Who knows where that comes from? Anybody? Not a clue? It’s from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you’re slightly more daring, O Captain my Captain.”
After class, Cameron remarks that Keating seems rather odd, but the rest of the boys seem to like him, or at least, find him interesting. While the boys hit the showers, Knox reveals that he has to attend a dinner at the Danburys’ (whoever they are, more on that later) explaining that he can’t meet to study with them tonight. The boys pick on him a little and then invite Todd, who doesn’t seem to be on board for the plan.
That night, the boys meet to study, and Knox comes in late, elated. See, he’s met the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen: Chris. The bad news is that she’s engaged to a guy named Chet, but that doesn’t seem to deter Knox that much. He remains completely smitten.
The next day, Keating’s class remains as unconventional as the day before. This is no course where the first class is fun and then it’s down to business the next day: Keating seems to mean business about seizing the day.
He opens class by requesting that Cameron reads the first page of the introduction of their poetry book, an introduction about how to rate a poem’s ‘greatness score’. As he reads, Keating writes on the board, allowing him to reach the end of the page before telling Cameron, and the rest of the class, to rip out the introduction.
At first, the class hesitates, but after a moment, many of the students gleefully obey. As they tear out the pages, another teacher, Mr. McAllister stops to investigate. Keating explains that he is teaching the boys to think for themselves, to enjoy the use of language and the power of words.
“No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.”
The boys contemplate this as Keating adds:
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”
At dinner, McAllister sits next to Keating and chastises him warningly about his choice to educate the boys to think for themselves, encouraging them to be creative.
“Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I’ll show you a happy man,” McAllister quotes.
Keating smiles and replies with a verse of his own: “But only in their dreams can men be truly free. ‘Twas always thus, and always thus will be.”
At their own table, the boys unearth an old yearbook, searching for Mr. Keating’s page. They learn that he was involved in a group called the ‘Dead Poets Society’.
Curiosity piqued, the boys ask Keating about the Dead Poets Society after dinner. Keating explains that it was a secret society, inspired by the words of Henry David Thoreau to ‘suck the marrow out of life’. This group would gather in a nearby cave and read poetry aloud, and write some of their own.
Neil suggests to the rest of the boys in private that they should revive the Dead Poets Society and meet that night. In his room, he finds a book called Five Centuries of Verse, with an inscription from Keating: the opening to every Dead Poets Society meeting.
“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”
That night, the boys all sneak out of the school and meet in the caves. Neil begins the meeting, reading the opening, and then the group takes turns reading poems and talking, getting progressively more spirited. After a while, they conclude, heading back to the school and singing.
The next day, in English class, Mr. Keating shows the boys how to read Shakespeare: not dull and stuffy, but full of life, (doing impressions of Marlon Brando and John Wayne to illustrate) and then does something even stranger.
Keating climbs onto his desk and asks the class why he does this. Charlie suggests that it is to feel taller.
“No! Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton. I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.”
With that, Keating encourages his class, one at a time, to stand on his desk, looking at the room from a different perspective. As class comes to a close, Keating announces that the boys are to write, and then read aloud, their own poems, privately telling Todd that he is quite aware how much this assignment must scare him.
In his room, Todd attempts to write a poem as Neil bursts in, full of excitement. He has discovered a flier for a community play of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and intends to try out, realizing that he wants to be an actor. He says:
“For the first time in my whole life, I know what I wanna do! And for the first time, I’m gonna do it! Whether my father wants me to or not! Carpe diem!”
The next class, Keating takes the boys out to the field, handing them each a line of poetry. He begins an exercise where each boy must read aloud the line before running up and kicking a ball, one after another, while he plays classical music. Directly after, Neil blazes through the dorm, shouting that he’s secured the part in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, his enthusiasm undaunted by the fact that his father will never write the approval letter necessary. He forges the necessary letter from his father for the theater and the school principal as Todd looks on.
It is the next English class, and it is time to read the poems from the class. Knox, who has ridden his bike to Chris’s school to watch her at least once, reads aloud a poem dedicated to her. Other students read, and finally, it comes time for Todd’s turn.
Todd, as it turns out, hasn’t written a poem.
Undaunted, Keating brings Todd to the front of the class, covering his eyes and encouraging him, helping him create a poem on the spot. Todd’s spontaneous poem brings the class to applause, and Mr. Keating moves the class outside for some more ‘poetry in motion’.
At this point in the story, we’ve got a lot of information about quite a few characters.
Protagonists Todd and Neil, originally apparently the opposites of one another, are similar in pressures from home: Todd to be like his older brother, and Neil to follow the carefully laid plan that his father has set out for him. Neil is already moving outside of that plan, pursuing acting, and Todd, with some encouragement, manages to come up with an intense poem in front of an entire class, despite his shyness.
Even the other boys in the group have unique characterization: Charlie, the anything-for-a-joke class clown, Knox, the hopeless romantic, and Cameron, the reluctant tag-along. (Meeks and Pitts are there too, but they have far less screen time and personality than the rest of the DPS.) We as an audience are watching their growth and personal arcs after the catalyst that is John Keating.
Oddly enough, Keating is the main character that we spend the least amount of time with, and know the least about. We don’t know a lot about his home life, or what his background is, or what his thoughts are. All we see is his direct influence on the boys at the school, and his unintentional inspiration to restart the Dead Poets Society.
Speaking of which:
At the next Dead Poets Society meeting, Knox seems uneasy, announcing that he’s going to kill himself if he can’t be with Chris, and leaves the meeting to call her. The boys follow, cheering him on, as he makes the call, hanging up at first, before working up his nerve (Carpe Diem) to call her again. Chris invites Knox to a party, saying she was thinking about calling him, and elated, Knox accepts the invitation.
The next night is the night of the party. Knox heads off to the Danbury house, where he’s swallowed up by a rowdy crowd of teenagers. Soon enough, Knox (and everybody else) is at varying levels of intoxicated. Inhibitions loosened, Knox kisses the forehead of a passed-out Chris, enraging her boyfriend and starting a fight, ending the party abruptly.
Meanwhile, Todd is given the exact same birthday present as last year: a desk set that he didn’t even like, yet another sign of his parents not really paying attention to him. Neil, noticing Todd’s disappointment, cheers him up, throwing the desk set off the roof, before taking him to another Dead Poets Society Meeting, where Charlie (now insisting on being called Nuwanda) has brought girls in to impress them with poetry.
Charlie also announces that he published an article in the school newspaper demanding that girls be admitted to Welton, signing it the Dead Poets Society. The rest of the group is justifiably angry, afraid that this will put the school’s administration onto them.
Sure enough, at an assembly, Headmaster Nolan demands to know which of the students was responsible for the article. At first, none of the students come clean, until a phone rings.
Charlie picks it up, and announces that it’s from God, saying they should admit girls to Welton.
This prank inevitably ends with Charlie getting paddled in the Headmaster’s office (1959, remember?) and threatened with expulsion. Nolan wants the names of the other members of the Dead Poets Society, but Charlie won’t tell.
After dismissing Charlie, Nolan calls Keating in, questioning him about his teaching methods. Keating explains that he’s trying to teach the boys individualism.
“I always thought the idea of education was to learn to think for yourself.”
“At these boys’ age? Not on your life!”
Afterwards, Keating approaches the boys, specifically Charlie, and gently scolds him for his stunt.
“There’s a time for daring and there’s a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for,” he says, explaining that being stupid is not the same as being an individual.
This is a common theme of the entire story, actually. As much as Keating encourages free-thinking and exploration of ideas, he knows the difference between bucking authority for the sake of it versus nonconformity. Each of the boys is exploring this aspect in their own way, from Todd’s slow-growing confidence to Neil’s direct disobedience of his father’s oppressive plan to Charlie’s defiance, even to Cameron’s caution against ‘disobeying rules’. Dead Poets Society is a story about encouraging people to think for themselves, but to be wise about what they do once they start, and while some are more obvious than others (Charlie’s foolishness and Knox’s overzealousness contrasted with Cameron’s blind following of ‘the rules’, all portrayed as kind of problematic), some examples are more ambiguous.
Such is the case with Neil.
After a rehearsal for the play, Neil comes back to his dorm to find his father, very displeased with him. He’s incredibly angry about Neil joining the play, and instructs him to quit the play the next morning, the same day as the first performance. Upset, Neil goes to Mr. Keating’s office to ask him for advice.
Keating listens to him, and suggests trying to talk to his father, for Neil to show him how passionate he is about acting so that he will allow him to do the play, encouraging him to come to his father earnestly before the play.
On a slightly lighter note, Knox enters Chris’s high school and follows her to class with flowers, trying to apologize for the previous night. She’s understandably embarrassed and tells him that her boyfriend, Chet, is still upset with Knox and is out to get him. Undeterred, Knox follows her into class and reads a poem about Chris aloud, in front of all of her classmates.
Remember what I said about ‘wise’ ways to deal with free thinking?
A little later, Neil lies to Keating, telling him that he’s talked to his father, and that he’s allowed to stay in the play.
The next night, Keating and the boys prepare to go see Neil perform, with Chris even turning up and deciding to accompany Knox to the play. It’s well worth it. Neil is in his element, comfortable and dynamic on stage, and his classmates and teacher cheer him on, awestruck by his talent.
Before the last monologue, Neil spots his father, entering the theater. Clearly daunted, he goes out and sells his final monologue anyway, to the wild applause of the audience.
All but his father.
After the performance, Neil’s father brings him home, informing him that he is being pulled out of Welton, and enrolled into a military school, immediately followed by medical school. Neil attempts to argue, to plead his case, but his father shuts him down, and Neil stops arguing.
Later that night, after his parents go to bed, Neil sneaks into his parents’ room wearing his costume, opens the drawer, taking his father’s gun, before retreating to his father’s study and killing himself.
It is right here that the movie goes from a good, even average film about ‘seizing the day’ and living life to the fullest, to a great movie about the consequences of doing it.
In another movie, Neil’s father would have seen the performance and realized his son was right. Or if he hadn’t, Neil would have finally stood up for himself, and his parents might have seen the light.
In another film, Neil wouldn’t have died. Especially not like that.
It is this moment, this gear-switch, that the audience is forced to contend with the implications, the fallout of these actions, and that sometimes, even ‘seizing the day’ is impossible, depending on your circumstances.
It’s not an easy idea to swallow. It’s not one we’re used to in movies. But it’s here, nonetheless.
Back at Welton, the boys tearfully wake Todd up to tell him the news. Upset, Todd runs out into the snow, as the boys follow. He remarks on how beautiful the snow is before throwing up and breaking down, rushing into the snow alone. In the classroom, Mr. Keating paces empty desks, arriving at Neil’s and removing the poetry book he left for him with the Dead Poets Society inscription.
The next morning, it turns out that the fallout affects more than Neil.
Headmaster Nolan announces that he intends to conduct an investigation into what happened. The boys gather to talk as Nolan interrogates Cameron, the rule-abider. The remaining Dead Poets are certain that Cameron is going to sell them out, and sure enough, that’s exactly what he does. Cameron enters, telling the group that he told them everything, and that they all should too, as it’s too late to save Keating, but not to save themselves.
Charlie reacts to this by punching Cameron in the face, getting him expelled.
The next boy called in is Todd, who enters Nolan’s office to find his parents there, too. Nervously, he sits as Nolan tries to get Todd to sign a document blaming Mr. Keating for Neil’s death. Todd glances at the page: the rest of the Dead Poets have signed too.
Later, in English class, Headmaster Nolan arrives and announces that he will be teaching until they can find a permanent replacement for Keating. As he opens class (encouraging people to read the ‘excellent’ ripped out introduction from the book) Keating enters the room to collect his things. After long moments of silence of the boys keeping their heads down as Keating gathers his belongings, Todd finally breaks, calling out to Mr. Keating and telling him that the school forced them to sign the confession.
As Nolan tries to get him to sit down, Todd shouts out: “O Captain, My Captain”, and stands on his desk. Many other students follow, one by one, as Keating tearfully watches.
Keating gratefully thanks the boys, and the film ends on a closeup of Todd’s face, after he’s finally stood up for himself, and seized the day.
Make no mistake, this is not a happy ending. Keating is forced to leave the school. Neil has taken his own life, trapped into a lifetime he didn’t want. Charlie has been expelled, and it’s likely the rest of the boys will be too. This is a movie based on, and ending with, great uncertainty. Not every boy stood up. Not everyone is coming out of this okay.
The question is, what are we supposed to take away from this?
The message of the film, the core theme that people remember, is Seize the Day. And yet, of those who ‘Seize the Day’, very few come out of it unscathed, if any. Instead, people are left with heartbreak, making bad decisions or, even if the decisions may have been morally ‘right’, or what they felt they had to do, consequences must follow. Charlie’s overzealous sense of humor and bucking of authority gets him expelled. Knox’s over-the-top romanticization of Chris nearly drives her away and gets him in trouble. Neil kills himself because the restricting nature of his family won’t allow him to ‘Seize the Day’.
And Todd?
Todd finally speaks out, but too late to fix any of the damage.
Despite the focus on Mr. Keating in most of the promotional material, the protagonist of the movie is, of course, Todd. Once Neil dies, Todd is who we are left with, and it is Todd who changes from shy boy who won’t speak out to the leader of a final daring farewell to a teacher that changed his life. He’s the one that grows. He changes.
It’s just too little too late.
The story of Dead Poets Society is a sobering one, and not exactly a story you’d expect. The first two-thirds could have been part of any typical, ‘feel good’ teen drama about self-discovery, but the last third takes expectations and turns them on their head. This is real life: it doesn’t always work out. People get fired for trying to do the right thing. Parents don’t see the harmful impact they have on their children. People value rules and tradition over the dreams of the young.
It is in this devastating third act that Dead Poets Society earns its place as a classic: by refusing to allow the cliched beginnings to define its ending.
It would have been so easy to allow Neil to convince his father to allow him to act. It would have been simple to allow Keating to change the mind of the establishment, for the Dead Poets to take Welton by storm.
But real life doesn’t always work out like that. Sometimes, the way we go about ‘seizing the day’ can end badly depending on our circumstances and the wisdom in the method we choose. The film isn’t telling us how to do it right. It’s showing you the lives of people who did it wrong, or at least, who seized the day, tried to make their lives extraordinary, and failed, due to many different reasons.
But.
That doesn’t mean we should stop trying.
For every failure, for every mistake (Neil sneaking to do the play, Charlie’s pranks, etc.), Todd’s example stands above and beyond. Yes, he might get into trouble. But this moment, this act of telling a beloved teacher that his work was not in vain, that his students will remember him, that he was not to blame, feels right. This is what he is supposed to do.
We cheer for that moment, we feel the weight of the movie lift just a smidge, because in the end, we have to seize the day. We have to try to make our lives extraordinary, but we have to find the right way to do it, the wise way to do it.
Because, for all of the mistakes made, Keating is right: Words and ideas will change the world. It is up to us how to use them, when to use daring, or caution, and in the end, try to find the meeting place between doing what is right, and doing what is true to yourself.
The ending is uncertain, yes. But it’s the only satisfying ending that an honest movie could give us.
Dead Poets Society is an emotional story, bringing up questions about non-conformity and following the rules that go beyond a surface: ‘yes or no’. A gripping story full of great performances, a warm atmosphere, and immortal dialogue, Dead Poets Society will continue to be a testament to words as long as we care to use them.
In the articles ahead, we’re going to be taking a look at some of the other important elements of Dead Poets Society, so if you enjoyed this one, stick around and join us! Don’t forget to leave a comment, like, or some other form of love if you enjoyed it, and follow for more! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you in the next article.
#1989#80s#Dead Poets Society#Dead Poets Society 1989#Comedy#Drama#Dylan Kussman#Ethan Hawke#Film#Gale Hansen#Josh Charles#Kurtwood Smith#Movies#Peter Weir#PG#Robert Sean Leonard#Robin Williams
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Egotober Day 25: Cobwebs and Cardboard
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31
Prompt: Haunted
Summary: Kay goes with some of the guys to a haunted house, one of those Halloween attraction ones.
Warnings: none
With Halloween so close, Egoton was in a bit of a mood and there were more than a couple attractions and haunted houses we’re going up.
The plan was for Ethan and Randall to take Eric but one thing led to another and the two were with Eric, and Illinois, and King. The latter had heard Illinois had tagged along with Eric and wanted to be there “just in case”.
The five of them were standing in front of what Ethan had found was the best rated haunted house in town.
Eric was hiding behind Illinois, looking up at it nervously, he was clutching his hand.
“What’s wrong, leoncito, you’ve faced scarier,” Illinois smiled at him.
“There’s people in there,” Eric complained into Illinois’s back.
Illinois’s smile fell and he wrapped and arm around Eric, “You don’t have to go in. We can stay outside, try to win some prizes or something.”
“You make out in the bushes and I’m getting a crow to throw food at you Ills,” King warned.
“Hey, come on, what did I do to you?” Illinois demanded.
“Really?” King stared at him. “I’ve been keeping track. You want my list, asshat?”
Illinois rolled his eyes, and quickly bent down to carry Eric over his shoulder, but Eric went about as straight as a board so the result was Eric bracing his hands on Illinois’s shoulders. Eric’s face went beet red and Illinois had this huge smile on his face.
“What’ll it be dulcito? The fake haunted house or do I get a head start on that huge stuffed unicorn at the front?”
Eric went impossibly redder, just staring at Illinois.
Illinois chuckled.
“I think his brain shut down,” Ethan teased.
“Yeah?” Illinois carefully put Eric back on his feet, “fine, I’ll put the pretty boy down.”
He bent his knees a little and inclined his head so that their eyes were level. “Let those thoughts in that pretty head come back up.” Then he winked.
“Oi, we’re still here,” King shouted at him. “How about you do that away from me.”
“Illy!” Eric squeaked out, covering his face.
“Okay, okay,” Illinois stood up straight again. “I’ll stop. So what’ll it be sweetheart. Haunted house or cute games?”
“Y-Y-ou wa-nna go,” Eric looked away, still flustered but clearly uncomfortable.
“Any fun I could have isn’t worth it if you’re not okay,” Illinois reminded. “So are we going to counter-scam a carnie or go into the haunted house?”
Eric was quiet for a long time, looking uneasy and playing with his hands a bit. Illinois just waited trying to look as calm and patient as possible.
It took a bit but Eric worried his lower lips with his teeth, looking away. “We . . . uh, um . . . can go into the h-ouse.”
“You sure?” Illinois asked. “We don’t have to.”
“I-I w-want to,” Eric looked more determined.
Illinois kissed Eric’s cheek, “If you ever want to leave, just give me a sign and I’ll take you back out, even if we’re about to finish.”
“I wi-ll,” Eric promised.
“Okay,” Illinois kissed Eric’s forehead and passed him a couple twenties. “Go with the boys get us three tickets.”
“I can pay for myself,” King told him.
“아빠 would never let me hear the end of it,” Illinois told King.
Eric nodded and walked off with Ethan and Randall to a ticket stall outside the haunted house. Leaving Illinois and King standing away from them.
“So, you tell the Old Man yet?” King asked as the two of them just watched the former apprentices getting tickets.
“He knows I’ve got a new travel partner,” Illinois admitted. “The invoices show there are two people on his bills so I could just lie about that.”
“Why not tell him?” King said. “You’re obviously over the moon about him.”
“Don’t want my luck to run out,” Illinois defended, looking at Eric. “The long I wait, the longer my luck holds out.”
King frowned, “Haven’t you found some amulet that counteracts it by now?”
Illinois sighed, “There is no counter-curse, no spell, no lucky charm that is enough when my luck finally runs out. I can only hope that when it runs out again that Eric isn’t with me.”
“Do you think it ran out when I was sent to watch Artie?” King voiced a question he had for a while now.
“Dark and Host don’t blame me, but I do,” Illinois answered.
King was quiet for a second or two before tugging on his arm, “It wasn’t, your fault. There was nothing you could have done.”
Then before Illinois could argue further, King shoved him a bit, “Come on, let’s catch up with the guys, before they get themselves into trouble.”
Illinois smiled and they walked over to the others.
“Keep taking care of Eric and we won’t have any problems,” King told Illinois, “he’s a nice kid.”
“Huh, what was that?” Ethan said, looking over them.
“I said Illy’s a piece of shit,” King corrected. “Long may he reign, the prince of assholes.”
Illinois chuckled, rolling his eyes. The adventurer wrapped an arm around Eric’s back and leaned in. “Had fun at the ticket booth, dulcito?”
Eric just shrugged, staring at Illinois.
They headed into the haunted house, the result was that Eric stayed clutched to Illinois’s side for most of the time, almost stumbling as he was startled. Illinois asking if he wanted to leave a couple of times, but Eric just clung to him and insisted on continuing. Illinois did wind up picking him and carrying him halfway through, promising to protect him.
Ethan and Randall were having fun, giggling and chuckling the whole way through. King was the only one who didn’t have a noticeable reaction for most of it. He occasionally jumped and there was a room that Illinois and King stared into the room in surprise and with a bit of trepidation. It was a room with a mad doctor and slabs of meat and realistic fake skeletons. They glanced between each other and just sprinted into the next room.
But the group walked out the other side and Illinois raced for a bench to put Eric down, trying to calm him down. Thankfully he wasn’t in a panic attack. The two were talking between each other quietly and there was a gentle promise that Eric would not go to another haunted house.
They went to go get some corn dogs after Eric felt like walking again.
“Sorry you didn’t have fun,” Ethan apologized to King.
“What?” King asked in confusion, munching on the contents of a bag of popcorn.
“At the haunted house,” Ethan clarified.
“Oh,” King realized. “Nah, I had fun, it was alright.”
“Yeah, but yah didn’t get scared,” Randall reminded.
King shrugged, “There’s nothing really scary about a fake haunted house. Yeah I got startled a couple of times, and that effect with the fake organs did make me do a double take but it’s all cobwebs and cardboard.”
“We technically lived in a haunted house anyways,” Illinois told them, tipping his hat up.
“Wait you lived in the Manor, man?” Randall asked.
“Yep,” Illinois popped the “p” on the end. “It got freaky at night. Never had to have a curfew.”
“How bad was it?” Ethan asked leaning forward.
King glared at Illinois, “Usually nothing happened except for the changing hallways, it took forever for me to find the bathroom at night when I first got there. It’s really easy to find the back porch, impossible to find anything else.”
Illinois tapped King’s arm with the back of his hand, “What about that time in the attic?”
“Which time in the attic?” King asked.
“You know when you and Yan came crying down the stairs?” Illinois told him.
“Ohhhh,” King remembered, and smiled. “Huddle up.”
Randall dropped his elbows on the table, Ethan had a huge smile on his face.
“Okay, how old were we, Ills,” King started.
“It must have been about a year and some change since we were adopted,” Illinois waived his hand. Eric was halfway onto his lap, trying to cuddle up next to Illinois.
“So I was about six, Yan was about five, and it was hot as balls in the middle of the summer. It was that one year with the heat wave and it was so hot that even the Manor was overheating. So Yan and I were up in attic, because we can’t go in the basement.”
“Why?” Eric managed to ask.
King sighed, “Because Dark kills people down there, it’s like Wil’s set couch, we just don’t go there unless you’re helping kill people, so I never went in the basement. Anyways we’re we’re fucking around in the attic and Yan was in Bim’s old crib and I was checking out this broken cursed looking mirror when I look over and I see Dark standing in a corner of the attic watching us. He’s in this nice red tux and he’s smiling at me. Except his smile is kinda freaking me out.”
King’s smile faded. “So I call out, ‘Mr. Dark?’ ‘Cause I used to be formal with him. And down the stairs I hear footsteps and Dark calls out, ‘What is it Kay?’ I look back at ‘Dark’ and he’s gone. The real Dark is walking up the stairs. After I asked him about it, we’re taken out of the attic and he locked us out of the attic for a month. He spent the rest of the day watching us like a hawk and the next time I went up with Illy, the attic is clear of ghosts”
“So what was it?” Randall asked.
King shrugged.
“Yanc called him ‘the Shadow Man’ cause he has all this black smoke around him,” Illinois answered. “Dark always got super protective when he was around so we always assumed he was one of those bad spirits.”
“Like Dark?” Ethan asked.
Illinois made a scoffing sound, “Dark’s a demon, big difference. Spirits can’t affect their environments, demons are way more dangerous. Either way whenever the Shadow Man was in a part of the house Dark would throw a barrier up and we couldn’t go in that part of the house until Dark deemed it safe. Once we were barred from going outside without him watching over us for a month. Artie and Bim went insane, it was fun to watch.”
“For you,” King grumbled.
“So is that thing still around the Manor?” Ethan asked.
“Don’t know why he wouldn’t be,” King answered. “Maybe Dark pissed him off and he’s haunting Dark. I don’t know, I’ve tried looking into him and so far I’ve found nothing. But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up.”
“So has he done anything to you guys, stood over your bed as you slept, or fucked with the lights?” Ethan asked.
“Not to us,” King reported. “I haven’t seen or heard anything to suggest it’s a demon or a poltergeist. Glad I moved out, that mess is your problem.” He nudged Illinois.
“No,” Illinois smiled. “I don’t get the cursed mansion, I get the cursed lake house. Big difference. The Shadow Man doesn’t live there. Bim gets to deal with the cursed mansion, I don’t want anything to do with that cursed house besides my stuff. Bim can have the house.”
“B-im in-herits the M-Manor?” Eric asked. “But Da-rk can’t die?”
Illinois shrugged, “Didn’t stop him from making a will, I think he does it to make himself feel better, or maybe the Old Man’s gonna skip town for a hundred years to add some pizazz to his life, I don’t know.”
“Weird,” Ethan commented.
“That will isn’t getting used anytime soon,” Illinois excused. He stood up and held out an elbow for Eric. “Now if you’ll excuse us, boys, we have some carnival games to win.”
Eric blush returned as he grabbed onto Illinois’s arm. Illinois helped him up and they walked away.
The other three watched them walk away. Ethan getting up, “Well I’m gonna have fun on some of those rides.”
“Wanna go stalk an’ torment the lovebirds?” Randall smiled at King.
“Why do you think I’m here?” King smiled, they split ways to enjoy the rest of the festivities.
#Superhero AU#Masks and Maladies#Egotober2020#Markiplier#Crankgameplays#Ericilly#King of the Squirrels#Randall Voorhees#Eric Derekson#Illinois the Adventurer#ahwm Illinois#sibling antics#sibling fluff#Eric tries his best
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Everything I Watched in 2019
Movies
The number in parentheses is year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year.
01 The Death of Stalin (17) does a neat trick of building goodwill for Steve Buscemi’s Krushchev, then brutally pays that off in the last few minutes.
02 Sorry to Bother You (18)
03 Support the Girls (18)
04 Paddington (14)*
05 Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (16)
06 Eighth Grade (18) probably the most terrifying movie I watched all year, if you didn’t watch it through your fingers, who even are you?
07 Morvern Callar (02) much less bleak than the book, but then, nearly anything would be
08 The Favourite (18) revolting and beautiful.
09 Columbus (17) a really lovely movie about architecture and parent-child relationships.
10 Bring it On (00)*
11 The Land of Steady Habits (18) feels wackier than your average Holofcener, but still a good watch.
12 Spotlight (15) i was really bowled over by this, and wasn’t expecting to be. Workmanlike filmmaking, but an extraordinary story, well-told.
13 The Killing of a Sacred Deer (17) Barry Keoghan is a blank, but somehow compelling screen presence. This one has an ending that made me bark with laughter.
14 Legends of the Fall (94)
15 Moneyball (11)* if you don’t feel like watching anything in particular, you can always watch Moneyball
16 If Beale St Could Talk (18) very beautiful, but I failed to connect with it on any other level.
17 For Keeps (88)
18 Abducted in Plain Sight (17)
19 Oscar Shorts (Animated) (18) the offerings were very sappy this year, but the winner was decent! Lots of Toronto content (weird).
20 Oscar Shorts (Live Action) (18) *unquestionably* the worst one of these won ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
21 Velvet Buzzsaw (19)
22 Vice (18) ugh
23 Friends with Money (06)
24 Can You Ever Forgive Me (18)
25 Bohemian Rhapsody (18) haha what. was. that.
26 Mars Attacks (96)*
27 Paddington 2 (18)
28 Buffy the Vampire Slayer (92)*
29 Shoplifters (18)
30 Blindspotting (18) jacked Ethan Embry in a supporting role?! Whither? Howso? Wherefore?
31 Witness (85)
32 Harry & the Hendersons (87)*
33 The Matrix (99)*
34 T2 Trainspotting (17)
35 Blockers (18)
36 The Slums of Beverly Hills (98)
37 Can’t Hardly Wait (98)*
38 Avengers: Infinity War (18)
39 Iron Man II (10)
40 Isle of Dogs (18)
41 Chinatown (74)*
42 To Live & Die in LA (85)
43 Age of Innocence (93) Daniel Day-Lewis manages to make Newland Archer compelling, where in the novel he’s...the worst?!
44 Shopgirl (05)*
45 The House (17) didn’t sustain all the way through, but then, that’s how mainstream comedies often go.
46 The Beguiled (17)
47 Badlands (73)*
48 Poetic Justice (93)
49 The Empire Strikes Back (80)*
50 Calibre (18)
51 The Kindergarten Teacher (18)
52 Hounds of Love (17) a nice little Aussie thriller, set in the 80s
53 Kicking & Screaming (95)*
54 Octopussy (83)*
55 Jaws (79)*
56 Lover Come Back (61)
57 Frenzy (72)
58 Always Be My Maybe (19)
59 Certain Women (16) took a while to get to this one, but it’s as great as they say it is.
60 Baby Driver (17) all flash, little substance.
61 Sneakers (92)
62 Roadhouse (87)*
63 Bull Durham (88)*
64 Ghostbusters (84)*
65 Booksmart (19) I think this will improve on multiple viewings, though I loved the soundtrack and the mix of characters.
66 Hereditary (18)
67 Rebecca (40) George Sanders as Rebecca’s cousin is BRILLIANT
68 Vertigo (58)*
69 The Dead Don’t Die (19)
70 Crawl (19)
71 Dazed & Confused (93)* If you don’t watch this once a summer, what is wrong with you?
72 Jackie Brown (97)
73 Talk Radio (88)
74 The Guilty (18)
75 Killing Heydrich (17)
76 Lady Bird (17)*
77 Billy Elliot (00)*
78 White House Down (13)* Channing Potatum saves the White House!
79 The Film Worker (17)
80 Whitney (18)
81 Mascot (16)
82 Apocalypse Now (79)* technically I’d only seen the Redux version from the early 2000s, so the regular cut is new to me.
83 Apollo 13 (95)*
84 Psycho 2 (83) the twist is very guessable, but there are a couple of nice-looking scenes.
85 Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (04)*
86 The Bodyguard (92)*
87 Murder Mystery (19)
88 Wildlife (18)
89 The Stepford Wives (75)*
90 Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (71)*
91 The Natural (84)
92 The Other Boleyn Girl (08)
93 Speed (94)*
94 Opera (87)
95 That’s my Boy (12) haha what?!
96 The Big Short (15)
97 Elizabeth the Golden Age (07)
98 The Glass Castle (17) when I read the book, I genuinely thought it was fiction, it’s so insane.
99 Dawn of the Dead (78)*
100 All About Eve (50) lady on lady violence is a special thing
101 La La Land (16)
102 Morning Glory (10) remember Rachel McAdams?
103 Casino (95)*
104 Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (06)
105 Pet Sematary (19)
106 Clue (85)*
107 Her Smell (18) amazing soundtrack and the songs were well-chosen. Heartbreaking musical moment in the final act.
108 Bobby Sands: 66 Days (16)
109 She’s Gotta Have it (86)
110 Good Morning (59)
111 Hustlers (19) I didn’t connect with this as much as the reviews led me to believe I might.
112 Nocturnal Animals (16)
113 Kill Bill Vol 1 (03) I’d only ever seen the second one before, being a non-Tarantino completionist.
114 Fried Green Tomatoes (91)* I watch this more than anticipated...
115 Steel Magnolias (89)
116 Notting Hill (99)*
117 A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (19) the tiny city models were inspired!
118 National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (89)*
119 Let It Snow (19)
120 Frozen (13)
121 The Irishman (19) most interesting as a sort of pastiche/reckoning on the part of Scorsese about his other gangster films. Really outmoded view of unions. Definitely could have been edited down if anyone were able to come to it without undue reverence, but I did love the bit about the fish.
122 Girls Trip (17) actual plot is beside the point.
123 About a Boy (02)* I always think of this as the “vomit and sweaters” movie, anyone else?
124 Animal House (78)*
DOCUMENTARY : FICTION - 4:120
THEATRE : HOME - 9:115
TV Series
01 Russian Doll - I think I would have enjoyed this more if it hadn’t been bingeable - would have made a nice week-by-week discussion sort of show. I loved to watch the changes between re-ups of our major characters, and I think the actual plotting would reward re-watches.
02 Catastrophe S4 - A satisfying ending to an excellent show, with very charismatic leads (and deeply weird supporting characters). Had to write around Carrie Fisher’s death, and I’m sure did a better job of it than Star Wars did.
03 Friends from College S2 - More of the same, which is what I was after. A show like cotton candy (but with more infidelity).
04 High Maintenance S3 - A lot more of this season took place outside of New York City, which was a great change of pace. And a great deal more information about The Guy and his own life; both difficulties and successes included.
05 Losers - This was a great little docuseries on Netflix that I didn’t hear a lot of people talking about - it’s about sports losses, but unusual sports ie curling, figure skating and the like. You’d think it would get repetitive, being as it’s always about recovering after loss, but it doesn’t! I wish they would make another season….
06 Shrill - a tight six episode dramedy about an alt-weekly journalist in the Pacific Northwest, based on Lindy West’s memoir of the same name. John Cameron Mitchell as her boss (based on Dan Savage) stands out of the ensemble cast, as does Annie’s roommate played by a British standup Lolly Adefope.
07 Broad City S5 - I haven’t always kept up with Broad City, but I came back to it for its final season, and thought it did a good job of setting its characters up for big changes in their lives.
08 I Think You Should Leave - It’s easy to assume that all sketch comedy is terrible and always will be, but then you see this, and throw your TV out the window (due to all the laffs)
09 Fleabag S2 - Everything you’ve heard is true, this season is goddamn hilarious and ridiculously sexy. A huge step up from the first season, which was already pretty fantastic and incisive.
10 Fosse/Verdon - Musicals are not particularly my bag, so I’m sure there was a lot that I missed in terms of references, but the lead performances ably carried me through all of the time jumps and various performances.
11 Stranger Things S3 - Say it after me: d-i-m-i-n-i-s-h-i-n-g r-e-t-u-r-n-s! Maya Hawke kills it, though.
12 Big Little Lies S2 - Unnecessary, and (if possible) even sillier than the first season.
13 Lorena - Part of the ongoing quest to rehabilitate the maligned women of the 1990s, this gave me tons of context that I had no idea about at the time, due to being a dumb kid.
14 Glow S3 - I felt like I was losing steam on this series this year, but episodes like the camping ep kept me coming back. A great ensemble, though some unusual character choices (like a certain kiss *cough*) took me out of it by times.
15 Lodge 49 S1-3 - I’d kept hearing about this show, so I finally sought it out. I can’t say it was amazingly compelling (I almost dropped it after the first season) but it’s definitely an oddball of a show, slipping from setpiece to setpiece with little regard for logic. For me, a background show.
16 Chernobyl - This show really gave me the Bad Feeling, humans were definitely A Mistake.
17 On Becoming a God in Central Florida - Kiki in a trashy mode, not as infinitely appealing as the version she pulled off in the second season of Fargo, but scrappy and industrious nonetheless.
18 Show Me a Hero - I’d put off watching this for years, it felt like it was going to be too dull (housing policy in Yonkers?) but it’s great, and larded up with Bruce Springsteen songs, obvs.
19 Great British Bake Off S9-S10 - I’d also held off on watching this for a long time, out of loyalty to Mel, Sue, and Mary Berry. But I needed some comfort viewing towards the end of the summer, and the new hosts and judge do an able job, although the show’s tropes are feeling a bit well-worn at this point.
20 Righteous Gemstones S1 - A rollicking ride for sure, with a great cast. Your mileage/patience with Danny McBride may vary, so keep that in mind, naturally.
21 This Way Up S1 - A small show starring the fabulous Aisling Bea, about mental health and families and some nice comic physical acting. Oh, and in case you were watching The Crown and crushing on Tobias Menzies’ version of Prince Phillip, he plays a hot dad love interest in this, which gives you all the Tobias you’re looking for, without the PP racisms.
22 The Crown S3 - This is the first season of the big cast switchover, and I thought it stuck reasonably well, once we were in it an episode or two. This season concentrated even less on Elizabeth herself, preferring her sister, husband, and (newly!) her children.
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Top 10 Favourite Movies I Have Seen (So Far)
How to Make an American Quilt (1994)
I’m not sure exactly why, but I have always had a thing for intergenerational movies that go back and forth in time, which I think that this movie does superbly. You get to know each of the character’s backstories, and it is also a coming-of-age film where the main protagonist must choose a path and be happy with the one she goes down. This was a film I would watch again and again as a teenager when I was sad (movie marathons were always the cure for my blues back then). More recently, there are other reasons why this movie appeals to me; I can relate to Finn’s thesis-writing (I know it’s frustrating and easy to distract yourself from), and I can also relate with her dilemma in choosing what kind of future she will have. Also, Winona Ryder can do no wrong. Winona forever.
The Joy Luck Club (1993)
Another intergenerational film, I think it does a great job of juxtaposing the difference between parents who immigrate to another country and their children who do not really understand the sacrifices they have made to actually get there, which can cause rifts and divides. It does this specifically with the Chinese culture in mind, which is fascinating in its own right, and quite different to the US, which is where they immigrate to. The daughters who try to understand their mothers are able to bridge the divide when they are able to empathise with where their parents are coming from, by the parents telling them tales of their origins. My favourite character is hands-down Ying-Ying St. Clair, whose backstory is definitely the most tragic. In China, Ying-Ying was happily married to Lin-Xiao (Russell Wong) with a baby boy in China until Lin-Xiao abuses her and abandons her for an opera singer. Overwhelmed by her depression, Ying-Ying begins to dissociate and accidentally drowns their baby son in the bathtub during one of these episodes, which haunts her ever afterwards. Years later, she has emigrated to America and suffers from trauma of her past, worrying her new family, including her daughter Lena. When she is able to get Lena find her voice and to leave her own abusive husband, Harold. I have nothing but love for this film, which breathes life into Amy Tan’s equally beautiful novel. This film adaptation does the novel proud; It’s well-acted, well-told, and simply just heart-warming.
Sinister (2008)
I love myself a good horror movie, and Sinister flips the script by starting out as a crime mystery before going bananas and introducing Mr. Boogie (or Bughuul), a pagan demon who manipulates the lives of children, having them kill their families, until he can consume the child's soul. Ethan Hawke, who both directs and stars in this film, does a phenomenal acting job as washed-up crime author Ellison Oswalt, who moves his family into one of the homes which was the scene of one of the ‘crimes’, where a whole family has been massacred and one child is missing. It isn’t long until he finds a bunch of 8mm tapes in the attic, which represent the equivalent of snuff films, detailing previous family massacres occurring elsewhere. Seriously, some of these 8mm tapes are both difficult but strangely thrilling to watch, due to their haunting quality. It takes him a while before he becomes aware of Bughuul, who he discovers hiding in the corner of one of the tapes, and who he is able to get to know about with the help of a rookie cop and a professor. The ending is also a delicious twist, and indicates the inevitability of not being able to escape evil. Seriously, it’s a must-watch, as it breathes rare new life into the tired horror genre.
Insidious, Chapter One (2010)
Another worthy 21st century horror addition, the Insidious franchise (especially the first film) delivers some great twists, and creates a rich universe way beyond any ordinary haunted house or child-plagued-by-demon trope, by introducing some genuinely scary characters (The Lipstick Demon, Doll Girl, and the Bride in Black, anyone?!), and also introducing The Further, a dark and timeless astral world filled with tortured dead souls and nightmarish spirits. I love the twist that the end of this movie delivers, and also the appropriate jump-scares throughout. It is yet another horror movie that breathes life into a somewhat tired genre. 10/10, I highly recommend this movie, even if The Lipstick Demon looks kinda like Darth Maul, lol.
Reality Bites (1994)
Although it’s kind of aged badly, due to advancing technology, this movie was one of the first to introduce the idea of reality television, whilst also capturing the zeitgeist of Generation X, with it’s rather nihilist message about life after college, and the trials and tribulations of growing up. Some of the characters (especially Lelaina and Troy) are self-indulgent, immature, intellectually snobby and navel-gazing, but you root for Lelaina to succeed because she is played with enough sympathy by the amazing and incomparable Winona Ryder that we believe she deserves better. This is one of the reasons I hate that she ends up with Troy, even if he is the broody bad boy we are all expected to swoon over. Seriously, he treats Lelaina so badly that I just want to punch him in the face. It also has some great side characters, like Vicky, who works at The Gap, but is scared to find a real job, and Sammy, who is gay and afraid that he may have HIV. It is also relatable for me as a Millenial who graduated from university when the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) hit, making it complicated to find a good job, mirroring the recession that these characters graduated into. I love that it talks about pivotal Generation X issues, as well as universal issues that encompass growing up and moving into adulthood. Also, again, Winona forever.
Candyman (1992)
Candyman is a horror film that subverts horror movie expectations whilst still managing to deliver some great scares. Being set in the long-gone notorious Chicago housing projects Cabrini Green, a name synonymous with vice, violence and murder, and a place which instils non-supernatural horror in an individual all on its own, tells the story of thesis student Helen, who is researching urban legends, and through her participants, she learns the story of Candyman, a vengeful rendition of the classic Bloody Mary, who will split you from groin to gullet with his hook for a hand if you say his name five times in the mirror.
The people who recount this legend go on to recount a notorious murder that has taken place recently in Cabrini Green which has been attributed to Candyman, and Helen chooses to investigate the claim. Helen rationalises that the residents of Cabrini Green use the legend of Candy Man to cope with their stressful daily lives. Before visiting Cabrini Green, Helen and her research associate decide to test the theory by saying ‘Candy Man’ five times in a mirror, but nothing happens, at least not yet. In real life, the murder rate in Cabrini Green peaked in 1992, the same year that Candy Man was made. Candy Man himself (played with great aplomb by the legendary Tony Todd) doesn’t show up until around 44 minutes into the movie, but when he does, he steals the show with his dangerous charisma.
In total, Candy Man subverts 3 horror rules: Number one, that you need to have a high body count to keep audiences engaged. By doing so, it stretches out the tension for as long as it can. Number two, there is a Black antagonist. There were some issues addressed by Black critics that this depiction played into some racist stereotypes, such as the idea that Black people need a White saviour, that Black people are especially superstitious, and that Black men prefer to pursue White women. But one could say that Candy Man is more a depiction of the White fears associated with Black poverty, and specifically, White Liberal fears that Black poverty can’t be helped, despite their best efforts. Helen doesn’t mean any harm (some may even call her an ally), yet she dies anyway.
By making the antagonist Black, the film becomes about so much more than just visceral horror, it is about societal, racial and historical horror as well, albeit told from a White perspective. It also plays into the fear that Black people, through no fault of their own, could be killed for no reason at all but panicky neighbours. Finally, number three, this film is more sad than scary; sadness tends to be the most common negative emotion that I experience, so I am drawn to movies that have something to say about it. The only reason Candy Man gives for wanting to kill Helen is that she demystified him, which seems pretty petty and vindictive. She is also supposed to resemble his long-lost love that got him killed in the first place. When Candy Man kills the psychiatrist in the movie, it is literally the only on-screen proof we have that Candy Man isn’t just a figment of Helen’s imagination. Candy Man, like my most favourite horror film, The Shining, begs the question: Are there really supernatural elements at play here, or is the main character simply going insane? Phew, this was more than I planned to write, but I guess this film is complex enough to warrant it. See it for yourself.
Final Destination (2000)
As time wore on, the Final Destination franchise became more well-known for its gruesome deaths (and tired plot) than anything else, but the first addition was a fresh take on the inescapability of death, and the vengance Death Itself may take if you screw with his Design. The first 15 minutes of the film are truly thrilling through the main character Alex’s premonition, and the wait after the gang have been kicked off the airline for the plane to blow up without them on board. Seriously, that scene gave me aerophobia more than any Air Crash Investigation episode. What follows are some truly twisted, macabre domino-like deaths that prove that Death has a wicked, dark sense of humour. That every character in this franchise dies eventually is kind of disappointing, and definitely places Death in this franchise as possibly the most diabolical villain in all of the horror genre (move over, Jason and Michael and Freddy). The mysterious undertaker played with delightful maliciousness again by Tony Todd adds to the mystery of understanding Death’s Design. and the reality that no matter what the survivors do, Death will eventually come for them, really adds to the overall hopelessness and nihilism of the whole situation. The way that the last film of the Final Destination franchise, which is really a prequel to the first film, rounded out the franchise really well, and provided a twist as good as the original film was epic. If you are going to watch any of the films in this franchise, I cannot recommend the first and last film enough.
Now and Then (1996)
I love this film more for the cheesy, feel-good memories of my childhood it gives me. Christina Ricci is also one of my all-time favourite actresses (I absolutely loved her as Wednesday Addams), which just bolsters this movie in my eyes. Thora Birch does a good job as well. But seriously, I can pop this movie on any time and it’ll just make me instantly happy for a simpler era. Even if I wasn’t born in the 60′s or 70′s, there is a lot to relate to about bridging the gaps between childhood and the inevitable teen cross-over. I mean, who didn’t have seances in graveyards with their friends as a 12-year-old girl? No-one?! Just me then. OK. Ahem. I think my favourite character was hands-down Gabby Hoffman’s Sam, who is trying to cope with her parent’s divorce in a town and time when divorce is unheard of. I like that her grown-up character played by Demi Moore is a successful writer, and is also the narrator of the entire movie. If you want to watch a truly feel-good movie that promotes feminist ideals, this movie is for you.
IT: Chapter One (2017)
Since I watched the 1990 TV miniseries in 1992 at the tender age of 7 (my parents never monitored what I watched - which sometimes led to some gnarly nightmares), I have been waiting for a worthy remake. I, like most of the aficionados that watched the miniseries, loved Tim Curry’s rendition of the demonic entity of IT, but weren’t quite happy about the spider ending. If you’ve seen it, you know what I mean. You may be asking why I haven’t included Chapter Two that came out this year (2019), and the reason is, despite Bill Hader’s wonderful performance as the grown-up Ritchie, a cameo by Stephen King himself, and more screen-time for Bill Skarsgaard’s scary clown, the ending here was also disappointing. IT’s true form just doesn’t seem to translate well onto screen. It was adequate. Meh. Anywho.
IT Chapter One, however, is awesome. Instead of jumping back-and-forth in time like both the mini-series and the book did, it focuses on the well-acted ‘Loser’s Club’ as kids, and is truly scary like this story should be. The bully Henry Bowers is truly sociopathic, and Bill Skarsgaard as IT truly nails the fact that IT is so much more than just a killer clown. The death scene with Georgie at the beginning of the film is quite subversive and daring, as it actually shows you the death of a child in all its gory detail. My verdict? Watch the first with gusto, but do not expect anything great from Part Two. Part Two has to exist for continuity, but the first film outshines the second installment in every way possible.
Lady Bird (2017)
For an Indie sleeper film, this story is fantastic as both a coming-of-age film and a depiction of separating from your parents and becoming your own person. Ladybird’s mum is overprotective, and Ladybird needs to break free, whilst also trying not to cause a permanent rift. She’s a different kind of gal, sensitive, intelligent, artistic, and so not meant for a dead-end small town. Her transition toward independence is extremely relatable to me, as I grew up with an over-bearing, interfering mother myself. Also, it’s set in 2002, the year I graduated, with adds to my feelings of nostalgia. It’s the relatablity of Ladybird that makes it so re-watchable to me. I grew up in a dead-end town, was creative and different to my peers, and went to a fancy private school that I didn’t fit into as well. So Ladybird is a cinematic delight as you see her progress to something more hopeful in the future. A must-watch.
#must see movies#best movies#my favorite movies#movie buff#cinematic masterpieces#cinema critic#horror movies#drama movies#epic movies#saga movies#must watch#i love movies#i love film#cinema#films to see before you die#bucket list movies#top ten#must watch film#drama#horror#feel good movies#watch anytime#watch on netflix#different movies#not your average movie#think different#critiques#movies i love#movies i like#watch movies
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LOVE SHIFTS SHAPE
Sky High: Magenta x Ethan, post-canon
a multi-chapter reunion story, in continuity with Love, Unspoken
Magenta is dreading the reunion in a mild "I'm in a successful band that has nothing to do with my powers" sort of a way, but she looks forward to seeing the friends she's kept up with at the party.
Then, for a second she doesn't recognize Ethan in his adult form, and things long forgotten (like her break-up with Zach) feel all too relevant again.
Chapter One: For A Limited Time Only
Coming down into Baltimore, Magenta stared from the plane at the citylights glinting off the water. Cars ran through the urban landscape in their binary directions, mapping its arteries in red and white cells. It had been some time since she’d flown into this airport, even longer since she’d done it alone. Strange how that made her on edge. The jolts of landing from a flight usually gave her a thrill, but today it felt just like being shoved around in a crowd after a long day.
The airplane finally stopped moving, and soon the passengers heard the bing of permission to remove their seatbelts. Magenta hadn't flown business class, since she couldn't exactly write off a trip home, so she had to wait for the many rows ahead of her to clear. Even when it was almost her turn to leave the plane, she was forced to lean uncomfortably on the back of her seat, stooped, as the people in front of her wrestled large bags from overhead bins.
She turned her cellphone back on while she waited and saw a message directed at her in the messaging group with her high school friends. When's your flight arrive?
Just now, she replied.
Someone asked, When will you leave?
Day after the party.
It felt weird to not to be going home--but not all bad. It was one less thing to dread, though she'd get a lecture from her mother eventually. She was dreading the reunion enough.
The rental car kiosk was thankfully not over-run at this time of night, so she got a car without too much delay and drove to her hotel. In the pull-through lane in front of the lobby, she handed over her car with luggage to a valet, taking only the disreputably worn-in messenger bag with her wallet and phone that had accompanied her into the plane cabin as well. As she walked into the lobby a middle-aged man with the distinctive style of a traveling businessperson was complaining to a clerk, though he spared a moment's attention to giving her a critical look.
Apparently women in smokey eye-makeup and torn jeans didn't fit his image of the Royana establishment.
"Yeah," he said, in that exasperated tone conveying he felt he was being really patient, "I really feel like I should get an upgrade, every other location I've been to has a free shuttle from the airport."
"I'll see what I can do, sir," said the junior clerk, while glancing into the side-office.
The senior staff-member who emerged at this moment saw Magenta and said, "Ah! Ms. Notani. Welcome. We have your Premier Suite ready for you. Just give me a moment to activate your key."
"Certainly," said Magenta. "And please upgrade this gentleman's suite as one of my guests. Thank you."
The man looked flabbergasted (and not necessarily pleased) but Magenta just took her key-card and headed toward the elevators.
She was only in a split second of the advertisement featuring Kitt, the frontwoman of her band The Wastelanders, but the members all had Ambassador status with this hotel. It was nice; if she had to stay in a hotel in her own hometown, it was at least a ritzy one. Her luggage was brought up only moments after she arrived, with a complimentary cheeseboard from room service. It had been a while since she'd given cheese a hard look, but with reunion looming old memories were being dredged from the deeps. There had been a few months in school when pranking her with cheese had been a thing. She'd found it in her locker, left on her usual seats in class, and even (she suspected some of the meaner upperclassman of this one) written over her gym shirt with the kind that sprayed from a can.
Well, she couldn't let them get into her head already. She ate some of the goat feta on the rosemary crackers, and put the rest in the fridge.
She spent the next day pretending to catch up on her correspondence. Somehow she kept getting sidetracked into checking into one of the particularly dumb games on her phone instead. She gave up around three in the afternoon, and started to get ready though it was four hours before the event started. And she wasn’t getting dressed in something that required several hours to dress, either. The coded phrase for the reunion had been business casual, but Magenta didn’t believe in this barren subset of style and owned nothing resembling it. She’d be wearing some of the cigarette jeans the stylist for their tour had talked her into buying which ended up too tight for a night of jumping around on stage, and a blouse she’d picked up before her flight. It looked too dressy for her, so she figured it would work.
She zipped herself into the boots Kitt called "Maj's wingmen" and confronted herself in the mirror. “Am I going to have to get a warm-up drink?” she asked herself. “No, if I’m buzzed when I show up they’ll assume rock star cliches about me.”
It seemed ridiculous she was anxious. It wasn't like this was a group of strangers. Layla would be there. They regularly hung out when Magenta was in town—moreso now Layla lived with Warren, who had a decent living room for video game nights. Dorm apartments were only almost big enough to live in.
She struck out for the hotel bar, but ordered an espresso macchiato instead of liquor. A different kind of buzz would have to do.
There had been debate among the reunion committee, apparently, about having it in the Sky High gym. But aside from the fact that their first dance in the gym had been crashed by a villain, and afterward never felt quite the same to them again, there was the issue of getting a group of adults onto a shuttle in a timely manner. So instead the party was being held at a banquet hall. Because there were some security-risk people in their number, like Stronghold, it was a banquet hall in a government building where they could hire a few bouncers and be fairly assured that any intruder would at least be seen entering, and hopefully heard.
It also meant approaching the place felt a little like walking up to a bank. It looked fancy but not particularly welcoming.
Once she'd followed a couple she didn't recognize from behind to the actual banquet room, though, the crowd was a little less overpolished. Stronghold himself was apparently watching the entrance like a hawk. He bounded over to shake Magenta’s hand with a big grin, and then decide they should hug instead. He was wearing one of the signature Stronghold-color sweatshirts (where did he get those? Were they special made? She had never wondered about this until now) and carpenter jeans that surely were no longer being sold in stores.
“It’s so good to see you. How have you been? A band, right? You’re in a pretty big band! How is that?”
This kind of clueless greeting would be more annoying if Will weren't so incredibly sincere. He was owning that he hadn't been paying close attention, but that now, in this moment, he was interested in hearing more. She knew they'd be cut off before she said anything significant, but that he'd remember anything she did manage to say.
"Yeah, we've been touring most of this year. Feel like we're really building a good fanbase that shares a lot with each other, not just people who come to our concerts, now."
"That's awesome. Must feel great to kind of connect people. Oh, hey, have you talked to Freya? She's just back from teaching violin in Poland! As a cover for her other work, of course. You guys should talk!"
Magenta felt like this was the kind of tenuous connection neither she nor Freya would value the way Will thought they might, but she didn't resist. When reintroduced by Will, it became clear that he had heard about as much from Freya of her life as he had from Magenta. Magenta recognized her as the ice-power girl who had been held back to their grade after the second half of her sophomore year had been dedicated to recovering from a concussion and reconstructive surgery after a particularly poorly thought-out gym activity. Though Freya was a classical musician working as a superhero and Magenta was just a rock bassist, after a few awkward exchanges they discovered a shared a passion for the same fantasy thriller TV shows. They talked vampire casting aesthetics until Freya's old best friend arrived and pulled her away to get drinks.
Magenta both wanted a drink and wanted to not get tipsy around people so soon. Why was Layla not here yet? She was usually timely. Maybe she had tried to convince Warren to come--a losing proposition. There were few things Warren hated more than school functions, and one of those things was making nice at a stilted party. This was both of those things. Love blinded people, so Layla still tried to talk him into stuff he didn't want. As far as Magenta could tell, Warren got his way when he cared about something enough, but a lot of the time he was happy to do whatever Layla cared about.
Magenta had always really gotten Warren's antisocial bit. She'd just never had the balls to go hard-mode with it the way he did.
As she was trying to judge what circle it would pain her least to linger her way into when she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her say, "Hey Maj, how's it going?"
For a second (later she couldn't say why) she looked into the smiling face without recognition. Finally, though, logic suggested that a black young man in this somewhat white-washed crowd could only be one person. This took a split-second only, then she was ashamed. It was the overall expression of his face that confounded her most--by graduation he'd been already considerably taller and socially graceful. This man, though, had self-awareness.
"Hey!" she said, as if she hadn't missed her beat. "Please tell me the rumors are true and the cash bar isn't too far from here."
"I think it's true, but I cannot confirm," Ethan said, "I don't drink anywhere there are so many supers all together."
"That seems wise," she said.
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Top 10 Films of 2018
This is rather delayed (mainly on account of an extended bout of laziness on my part), but I was still determined to get it out there! While I don’t think 2018 quite reached the heights of 2017 (nothing matched The Last Jedi or Blade Runner 2049, for example), there was still a lot of great cinema.
As always, keeping this list at 10 meant I had to omit some great titles. Just so you get an idea of what I had to leave out, here are some honourable mentions: Eighth Grade, Lady Bird, Revenge, Phantom Thread, Thoroughbreds, Lean on Pete and Game Night.
1. Roma, dir. Alfonso Cuarón
Roma is a deeply special film, and I’m very fortunate in having got to see it in the best possible circumstances - projected on a huge cinema screen, with its gorgeous, silvery cinematography a marvel to witness. This film takes the kind of life that would usually be forgotten and turns it into an epic, interweaving the story of a loving, resilient housemaid with the seismic political events unfolding in Mexico in the early 1970s. The shots are highly symmetrical and geometric, with characters passing in and out of pre-established frames. But this is clearly intentional, and - to me at least - the story felt no less personal for it. There are several all-time great scenes in this film, and while I don’t want to spoil any of them with extended descriptions, I will say that there’s a sequence in a hospital that balances the mundane and the monumental in an extraordinary and heartbreaking way. This is breathtaking, masterful filming, and I felt it did justice to Cleo’s life without ever attempting to claim her experience. The film is quiet and the dialogue is almost perfunctory, relying heavily on its visuals - it’s cinema at its purest.
2. Annihilation, dir. Alex Garland
True story: I was so desperate to see Annihilation in a cinema that I flew to New York for it. Of course Annihilation wasn’t my sole reason for travelling to New York, but you can be damn sure I made a point of tracking down an Alamo Drafthouse that was showing it. And boy was it worth it. This movie does a magnificent job of fulfilling the potential of sci-fi, taking otherworldly concepts and ideas and using them to interrogate some of the most profound and frightening truths of what it means to be human. This movie has a quietly hypnotic quality to it, and Natalie Portman continues to prove that she is one of the finest modern actors - she says so much with her face and her movements that lines are hardly necessary. I will continue to follow Alex Garland’s career with great interest...
3. Beast, dir. Michael Pearce
Beast was probably my biggest surprise in film in 2018 - I went in expecting nothing, and was bowled over by it to the point that I rushed out to see it again at the first opportunity. This film follows lonely outsider Moll and her ardent love for the mysterious Pascal. There is a heightened, almost supernatural, quality to their romance, and the actors - Jessie Buckley and Johnny Flynn - have electric chemistry. This film delights in playing with the viewer’s fears and suspicions, constantly adjusting them as the characters evolve over the course of the movie. It’s a great fusion of genres - mystery and romance - that also functions as a superb character piece, and it is entirely worth your time.
4. Bad Times at the El Royale, dir. Drew Goddard
This film is bonkers in an amazing way. A bunch of seemingly random strangers gather at a hotel that’s far from its glory days, and it isn’t long before all hell breaks lose. The ensemble here is terrific, with all the cast members playing off each other in a succession of utterly delightful ways. Every character conceals a secret history and motive, with their layers gradually being peeled back as the movie plays out. Special mention must go to Cynthia Erivo, who is simply stupendous as a session singer who I wound up considering the film’s real hero - she’s marvellously charismatic and complex, and her voice is a complete wonder. This film is a messy tangle of mysteries, and I had a wonderful time unravelling them.
5. First Reformed, dir. Paul Schrader
I have a weird soft spot for ‘crisis of faith’ movies (think Silence), and this is a very fine entry into that niche. Ethan Hawke is superb here as a priest attending to an old church that has effectively been reduced to a chintzy tourist attraction, and I found the depiction of how he struggles with his faith, overwhelmed by disillusionment and the immense crises facing the earth, fascinating and beautifully written. Schrader wrote and directed this film, and it is one of his greatest achievements - the dialogue probes deep, never feeling trite or obvious. I also appreciated how the spiritual was so often conflated with the personal, with a thin line drawn being drawn between the divine and the carnal (that end scene is a woozy thing to experience). It’s a beautifully judged film, made all the more fascinating for its ambiguity.
6. Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, dir. Morgan Neville
The greatest testament to the power of this wonderful, good-hearted documentary is probably that I went into it knowing practically nothing about Mr Rodgers (he just wasn’t a thing here in the UK) and left it thinking he’s the hero the world needs right now. I’ve seen so many documentaries illuminating the ugliest parts of humanity that I didn’t realise how much I needed one spotlighting the best bits. But this documentary isn’t pure sentiment, though there’s a lot of that - I found a lot to admire in Mr Rodgers approach to child psychology and education, particularly his conviction that every child can benefit from a warm, steady presence, even of the source of the reassurance happens to be trapped in a TV monitor. I can only hope this inspires a fresh wave of documentaries on similarly worthy subjects.
7. The Wife, dir. Björn Runge
Glenn Close is coming for that Best Actress Oscar and no one can convince me otherwise. With The Wife, the whole movie transparently rests on the shoulders of one woman - Close’s performance is almost sphinx-like, being enigmatic and low-key to the point that her emotions are almost invisible. But their failure to manifest doesn’t mean they don’t exist, and that is perhaps the point of the whole movie. Joan Castleman might seem like the ideal wife of a great author, but she is revealed to be far more than that - a singular individual with dreams, passions, ambitions and regrets. Glenn Close makes the gradual reveal of each facet magnetic, to the point that the slightest twinges of her facial muscles become potent symbols.
8. Blindspotting, dir. Carlos López Estrada
This is an urgent, gripping movie that tackles some of the biggest issues there are. Collin and Miles are friends, but this film sees their friendship challenged, the dynamics underlying it interrogated. I’ve seen movies described as “empathy machines” before, and Blindspotting is a great example of that. It sucks you into the day-to-day experience of living Collin’s life, whether he’s getting a window into the hang-ups of the people whose belongings he is moving (he drives a moving truck) or just chilling out with his friends. Alongside this, it also portrays how terrifying it is to live as a black man in America, how vanishingly little value appears to be placed on your life by those in authority. There’s a rap scene at the film’s climax that consolidates all of Collin’s rage and hurt, and it truly packs a punch.
9. American Animals, dir. Bart Layton
This film portrays a very different side to young American manhood from Blindspotting. Instead of living from day to day, the protagonists of this film start out with pretty much everything they could need - stability, support and good prospects. They choose to unsettle their existence by staging an outrageous heist, clearly dreaming of becoming legends and injecting excitement into their comfortable lives. American Animals does a fantastic job of pulling their plan apart, and since it was based on a true story director Bart Layton does something quite ingenious - he combines real interviews with re-enactments, the filmed scenes being switched out and adjusted according to the conflicting testimonies. In this way, American Animals becomes much more then a depiction of entitled young men seeking to mythologise themselves - it also functions as an interrogation of truth, and the myriad deceptive qualities of cinema.
10. Mission Impossible: Fallout, dir. Christopher McQuarrie
I have no idea how this franchise keeps on stepping up its game, but it does. It reminds me of how the James Bond films ended up taking Bond to space. I can see MI doing that at this point, except we all know that Tom Cruise would actually fly into space for it. With that prelude out of the way, I just need to stress what a fantastic action movie this is. The set-pieces here are marvellously staged, and their execution made them absolutely gripping - I was anxious over every punch, flinching at every cracked bone. McQuarrie is a true master of tension and suspense, and the movie was simply a magnificent ride. I was lucky enough to see this in IMAX with @bastila-bae, and the mere thought of people watching this on smartphones fills me with the rare kind of sorrow known only to shameless film snobs.
Look out for highlights from 2019 - coming up in a few months!
#roma#film#cinema#movie#movies#film in 2018#review of 2018#annihilation#beast#first reformed#blindspotting#mission impossible:fallout#american animals#bad times at the el royale#personal#the wife#won't you be my neighbor
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Title: One Last Taunt - Part 1
Summary: What will happen when Lane demands an audience with Ethan?
Each footstep seemed to echo as Ethan walked down the corridor, led by one of the guards who would remain by his side for his own safety. It was hardly something that he was used to, since he was generally the one doing the protecting, but he had to follow the rules of the building he was in. He was a little concerned, although he hid it well, by the message he had received. Hearing that Solomon Lane was offering up some information on one of the remaining Apostles in exchange for an audience with him had left him shocked, but he had decided that it was worth it. Lane would be restrained and surrounded by guards - there was nothing he could do.
It was a familiar sight by this point, being greeted by Lane sat in a chair wrapped in a straight jacket with his ankles chained firmly to the ground. Just as he had been in Paris, which Ethan regretted somewhat - making Benji come face to face with the man who had abducted him. But they had known that it had been necessary, and Benji had done so well.
“Hello Ethan.” A chill ran down the agent’s spine at the sound of that voice, one he would never get used to hearing.
“Lane.” The one word response was all Ethan was willing to give at this point, trying to keep himself calm.
“Here we are again. Face to face...”
“And with you in cuffs.” Ethan stared at the other man for a few moments, not moving from the spot as he did. Lane was a very difficult man to read, his thoughts and emotions unclear compared to some people who were easier to interpret. A small smirk came over Lane’s face as he watched the agent like a hawk.
“Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.” There was a hint of amusement in Lane’s voice as he spoke, and that only served to unnerve Ethan further, but the agent kept his face void of any anger or emotion as he moved to the chair that was opposite the prisoner, getting himself as comfortable as he could despite the unsettling nature of the situation.
“Let’s not waste anymore time, Lane. What is it you want to tell me?” Ethan asked, leaning forwards with his elbows resting on the table between them.
“Oh, but Ethan, look at me.” Lane replied, glancing around the room. “I have all the time in the world.” His sentence was completed with a wry smirk that caused Ethan to clench his jaw. “Forgive me if I’m completely off, but something tells me that you aren’t pleased to see me. I’m hurt...” The words were followed by a chuckle that echoed around the sterile room.
“What is it that you want, Lane?” Ethan’s words were sharp and snapped like the jaws of a wild animal as he reigned in his anger.
“I simply wish to see how your little game of cat and mouse is going with the Apostles... Are you and your team having fun?” When the question was met with silence, Lane continued. “Don’t worry, Ethan... I’m certain that you and that little pet of yours are closer than you realise.” The word ‘pet’ was spat, venom thick in the tone of his voice. “How is Mr Dunn? Is he still waking up in the night? Calling out your name while he claws at his throat?” At the mention of Benji, Ethan’s eyes darkened with fury and Lane laughed as he saw the agent visibly tensing.
“I’m not here to talk about that.”
“Oh, but why not? Surely you’d love to hear of how your precious Benji tried so very hard to loosen the rope around his pretty little neck while I lifted him higher... and higher... Did Ilsa not tell you all the gory details, hm? Rather typical of her, isn’t it, evading the truth? She could have let him die, Ethan. She almost did.”
“Stop.”
“I could see it in her eyes, yes... She considered letting Benji die so that she could fulfil her mission.” Within the blink of an eye, Ethan had stood from his chair and slammed his hand so hard onto the table that even the guard jumped at the explosion of sound it caused. Lane, however, did not flinch. “Oh dear... Did I strike a nerve?”
“I don’t want to hear anything else of your voice unless it is giving me information. Now either you tell me what I came to hear, or I walk out that door right now-”
“-and what, Ethan? Walk out back to your little boyfriend? Oh I always knew he was more than just a friend to you. I saw that look in your eyes in London, the rage that coursed through your veins when you saw the explosive. That rage is admirable, Ethan. You could use it for so much more than what the IMF allows you to. Even now, I can tell you are itching to wrap those hands around my throat.” Lane’s lips twitched, that taunting smirk taking hold as he stared directly at the agent looming over him.
“No.” Ethan said, his voice clam as he lowered himself back into his seat. “No, because I’m not like you. I know right from wrong and that makes me nothing like any of your followers.”
“Right. Wrong. Do you really know the difference, Ethan?” Lane asked, raising an eyebrow. “Right... like keeping people safe? Keeping Benji safe?” Silence fell over the two men for a few moments, each one staring the other down as Ethan’s hand became warm and clammy. “Tell me, Ethan... If you’re here, talking to me... Who’s keeping him safe?”
Ethan’s heart began to pound against his chest as he fought down the urge to lash out - no, he was better than that. But he could not help but be unnerved by the words that left Lane’s mouth.
“While you are here, who is watching out for your precious love? All alone in that lovely three-by-two house in the suburbs...” Lane leaned forward with a glint in his eyes as he narrowed his gaze at the agent. “Anything could happen.”
In that moment, it all made sense. Ethan’s eyes widened and he stood bolt upright from the chair. This was a trap, a rouse to lure Ethan away, distract him, while one of Lane’s Apostles... No...
“Run, run, run, as fast as you can, Ethan.” Lane said, a chuckle in his voice. “You might not like what you find.”
Before the terrorist has finished speaking, Ethan was already out of the room and dialing Luther’s number.
“Luther, get to my house.” Ethan didn’t leave his friend time to answer properly before speaking. “Now.”
to be continued...
#benji dunn#ethan hunt#benthan#g: angst#g: hurt comfort#m: protective ethan#m: established relationship#l: multiple chapters#fic: one last taunt#other character: solomon lane
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First Reformed (2018)
Directed by Paul Schrader
Written by Paul Schrader
Music by Lustmord
Country: United States
Language: English
Running Time: 113 minutes
CAST
Ethan Hawke as Pastor Ernst Toller
Amanda Seyfried as Mary Mensana
Cedric Kyles as Pastor Joel Jeffers
Victoria Hill as Esther
Philip Ettinger as Michael Mensana
Michael Gaston as Edward Balq
Bill Hoag as John Elder
(Confession: All images stolen from the Internet. We’re all going to hell anyway.)
In which Paul Schrader, a man whose last movie I bought from a pound shop makes a movie with goofy Ethan Hawke as a sad vicar and…it’s my favourite movie of 2018? Damn straight it is, Poncho. In First Reformed Paul Schrader creates a gloriously stark and sedately paced meditation on the question, how can we survive in the face of despair?
First of all, the Ethan in the room. Ethan Hawke. He’s okay, right? Never a chore to watch, but hardly a heavy hitter. A pleasant enough addition to any cast. Well, that was before First Reformed. First Reformed is movie about revelation and Ethan Hawke’s Ernst Toller(1) surely is a revelation. Toller, predictably enough, is the umpteenth iteration of Schrader’s evolving portrait of (Thomas Mann’s) God’s Lonely Man, and, like the Whitman said, he is large, he contains multitudes; he is the refined essence of all the God’s Lonely Men who came before him. Given Hawke’s predecessors in this ever mutating role include such titans of thesping as Robert De Niro, Willem Dafoe, George C. Scott and Richard Gere, the fact that his (Ethan Hawke’s!) performance can lounge comfortably amongst them is perhaps the biggest surprise in First Reformed. Appropriately enough, watching Hawke as Toller you will feel the scales fall from your eyes; Ethan Hawke (Ethan Hawke!) is not a lightweight screen presence, he is, in fact, an actor of the top tier. It helps that in First Reformed he’s given top tier material by a true auteur going at it like he’ll never get to go at it again. First Reformed is Schrader at the top of his mature game, exerting an iron control over material driven by an icy rage. And Hawke (Ethan Hawke!) is more than equal to the task. The boy done good.
1) A toller is defined as “a person who rings church bells (as for summoning the congregation) bell ringer, ringer. signaler, signaller - someone who communicates by signals.” There is some irony here as Toller’s congregation is small, but he definitely communicates via signals, particularly so at the close of the movie. Oh yes, particularly then.)
Everyone else has to act in Hawke’s daunting shadow, so it is absolutely to their credit that they still shine so brightly, so fiercely. I doubt many people other than his immediate family thought that Cedric the Entertainer could portray such a smoothly venal and slyly manipulative Pastor, while still appearing wholly human and relatable. (Mind you, Brummy funnyman Lenny Henry made a creditable Othello, so who the hell knows?) Michael Gaston is great as Edward Balq (2), the bad businessman who ambushes Toller over apple pie and thinks maybe it’s God’s plan to fuck up the world for cash. And he’s no one dimensional greedy meanie either, he is part of Schrader’s dramatisation of humanity’s struggle with The Bible’s (typically) contradictory command to both tame the world and also to preserve it. The abysmal weight of the latter burden falls on Philip Ettinger, as Michael Mensana (3). Ettinger is worryingly convincing as a man who clearly can no longer control his own mind. This tortured soul is desperately using his last scraps of rapidly fleeing reason to prevent himself from doing an unforgivable thing; either via the humane intervention of Toller or via other, more drastic measures. Amanda Seyfried is harrowingly vulnerable as Michael’s wife, Mary Mensana (4), but she also brings the core of steel essential for survival in the fallen world, a core which her husband, Michael, fatally lacks.
2) “Balq” is a phonetic ringer for “balk” i.e. to hesitate or be unwilling to accept an idea or undertaking.
3) Mensana alludes to “mens sana”, the Latin for “healthy mind”; it is used ironically for Michael. His mind is unhealthy.
4) Mens sana is used literally in the case of Mary. She also deserves its use in the wider sense; Mary embodies Juvenal’s phrase “mens sana in corpore sano”. She is “a healthy mind in a healthy body”. Her pregnancy is a sign of health and hope. Also, she’s called “Mary” and is pregnant in a movie thrumming with religious tones both over and under; I don’t think we need Sherlock Holmes to puzzle that one out for us.
Things are being said in First Reformed. Things weightier than “Tom Cruise can save the world without chipping a nail” or “uptight businesswomen need to unclench so wacky men can love them”. All true and valuable lessons, no doubt, but they aren’t what’s being said in First Reformed. Of course, something is usually being said in a Paul Schrader movie. That’s the way Paul Schrader rolls; like the thunder. Paul Schrader has been knocking about movies for what, five decades now? Since 1974 anyway, when The Yakuza was filmed by Sydney Pollack from a script by Schrader and his brother, Leonard. It was a good start; an entertaining geriatric action movie, involving an aged Robert Mitchum steamrollering his way through the Yakuza, while delicately pining for his war-time love. A little bit of playing in the Hitchcock sandbox aside (Obsession, Dir. Brian De Palma, 1979), this potent fuel of meditative violence would form the core of Schrader’s early offerings, with Rolling Thunder (dir. John Flynn, 1977) and, particularly, Taxi Driver (Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1976) refining the approach. Movies like Blue Collar (1978) and Hardcore (1979) also displayed Schrader’s interest in alienation, guilt, dehumanisation, guilt, sexuality and spiritual inquiry. And guilt. Sure, such themes were certainly less immediately arresting than hook handed ‘Nam vets and tonto taxi drivers, but with American Gigolo (1980) Schrader successfully intertwined all his major themes, high and low, into his first critical and commercial career maker of a knockout. That same year saw the release of the Schrader scripted Raging Bull (dir. Martin Scorsese). Top o’ the world, ma, in effect.
There then followed the ‘80s and, for Schrader, what appeared to be a “kid in a candy store” phase. (Legal note: no one said “nose candy”) Given the freedom Hollywood success bestows, Schrader indulged his more personal fascinations via his own scripts and those of others. Schrader having more going on upstairs than most in La La Land, this led to mixed results; his study of the celebrated Japanese author and coup instigator Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) clearly being of more artistic value than his study of Nastassja Kinski’s bare arse in his remake of Cat People (1982). But I have watched the latter far more than the former, so who am I to judge? Somewhere in this wayward and invigoratingly fun period is a movie about kidnapped heiress Patty Hearst (1988) and an adaptation of Paul Theroux’s Mosquito Coast (Dir. Peter Weir, 1986). And I’m pretty sure few filmographies contain a musical starring Michael J. Fox and Joan Jett (Light of Day, 1987) and a Jesus movie which managed to upset various touchy Christian groups, including that of his own father (The Last Temptation of Christ, Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1988). A real cinematic fruit basket; lots of fun, something for everyone.
But after the party comes the hangover, alas, and the early ‘90s for our fascinating firebrand seemed somewhat listless and directionless. At best. Schrader working with Harold Pinter sounds dauntingly awesome, especially with Christopher Walken and Helen Mirren on board, but the result was a stodgy Europudding adaptation of Ian McEwan’s The Comfort of Strangers (1990). (Walken is amazing in it though, true.) Then in 1992 there came Light Sleeper, a perfectly fine movie, a pretty damn good movie in fact; if you ignore that it’s basically American Gigolo for drug dealers, with a soupcon of a last act shootout for Taxi Driver/Rolling Thunder flavour. It’s probably Schrader’s best ‘90s movie because it magpies from all his earlier, good movies. A TV movie starring Dennis Hopper which used fear of witchcraft as a metaphor for the ‘50s Communist scare (Witch Hunt, 1994) sounds…interesting. (I haven’t seen it.) And the lean period sputtered out with a script contribution to City Hall (Dir. Harold Becker, 1996), a movie which despite a class pedigree stubbornly refused to ignite. No period in Schrader’s filmography is a total loss, but there was a clear lack of artistic traction in those six years.
Maybe even Schrader noticed, because in 1997 his work flowered anew with the release of both Touch and Affliction. As if invigorated by the source works, Schrader produced one of the best ever Elmore Leonard adaptations (an even greater achievement given the atypical nature of Touch. Christopher Walken is excellent in it, obviously), and an appropriately despairing staging of Russel Banks’ grim novel of dysfunctional families and DIY dentistry. As to the latter it would be lax to fail to state how incredible James Coburn is as The Awful Father. I’ve never seen Forever Mine (1999), so for me Schrader’s ‘90s closed on a high with the adaptation of Joe Connelly’s Bringing Out the Dead (Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1999). A fine high-octane night-in-the-life-of-a-paramedic parable featuring a lively cast kicking out the jams; all led by a truly great Nicolas Cage before his fall, before his face started adorning novelty sequin cushions.
In 2002, with Autofocus (from Robert Graysmith's book “The Murder of Bob Crane”) Schrader went back to the well of morality and debauchery he had been lightly dipping into throughout his career, and this time chucked the bucket in further than he had since Hardcore, drawing up a weighty, but darkly comic, look at the corrupting influence of images. Pretty ballsy for a man who trades in the things. It was a great start to the 2000s, so obviously it immediately turned to shit. So shit in fact most of the movies from this period appeared without my noticing, were difficult to source, or were disowned by Schrader himself. Not exactly Paul Schrader: The Glory Years. A 2005 Exorcist prequel was yanked off him by the studio and re-edited and re-shot under Renny Harlin. The Walker (2007), was really good with Woody Harrelson as a gay “professional companion” to older women accidentally uncovering Washington corruption; a kind of Light Sleeper for gay consorts. A really good movie, but nobody noticed. In 2008 Adam Resurrected occurred without my noticing, as did The Canyons (2013). In 2014 I did notice The Dying of the Light was taken off Schrader and re-edited by the studio so, without wishing to cause offence: **** that one. And this is where we came in...last year I picked up Dog Eat Dog (2016) on Blu-Ray in a Pound Shop; it was…very energetic, very hectic; a post fall Nic Cage and a never-even-stumbled-once Willem Dafoe were obviously having fun. I kind of dug it in a weird way, but Schrader definitely looked like his best days were behind him. Then I heard he was doing a movie with Ethan ****ing Hawke as a sad vicar or something. Hoo boy.
HOO BOY! indeed. Cover my face with egg and fry it in a pan! Yeah, Paul Schrader made a movie with Ethan Hawke as a sad vicar or something, and it was one of The 3 Movies I Loved in 2018. (The others, obviously, being Mandy and Let The Corpses Tan. I’m sure everyone agrees.) Schrader, the wily bugger had just been playing possum; letting his energies build, fermenting his themes, you know, getting ready to put out some fires with gasoline, as someone sang over the credits to one of his movies once. Filmed in the hypnotically discreet Transcendental Style so dear to his heart First Reformed is the “Paul Schrader movie” par excellence. It’s all been building to this one, kids!
First Reformed is a heartbreaker, a goddamn beautiful heartbreaker of a thing, it moves soft as a breeze and punches you in the heart like LaMotta on meth. The everyday becomes numinously stunning under Schrader’s soporific direction; the mundane is exalted; an indefinable mysticism hums through every scene; every performance is pregnant with the preternatural. Schrader lays his transcendental groundwork so well that when the movie makes a late lurch into magical realism it doesn’t jar, it just feels right; no, it just feels perfect. In First Reformed, terrible, terrible feelings are going on behind ordinary people’s faces; terrible, terrible feelings Schrader’s camera miraculously, tenderly, delicately captures like snow settling on an outstretched tongue. So, no, slow cinema doesn’t have to be boring cinema; only bad cinema is boring cinema. And First Reformed is good cinema. First Reformed is great cinema. First Reformed is Paul Schrader taking back the crown. Turns out everyone else was just keeping it warm.
#first reformed#movies#drama#transcendental cinema#paul schrader#ethan hawke#2018#the 2010s#favourite movie of 2018#nic cage sequin cushions#united states#cedric the entertainer#amanda seyfried#cedric kyles#philip ettinger#michael gaston
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Unfinished Business || Ethan
Prompt: You’re dating the star player on your schools football team and as the season comes to a close tensions between opposing teams increase dramatically.
Word Count: 1824
A/N: Multiple people have messaged me asking for an Ethan version of LAX Bro so I’m making a Football!Ethan imagine!
MASTERLIST
REQUEST
Ethan gripped my hand tightly as we strode down the cramped halls of our high school trying to get to class on time. People continuously greeted us as
Ethan silently pulled me though the mounds of bodies clustered between the walls of lockers.
The tension between us was pretty obvious as we silently stopped at our lockers to grab the textbooks and notebooks we’d need for our first set of classes. Students were whispering among themselves, watching us like hawks in order to find the next string of gossip to begin spreading around the school.
Last night Ethan was over at my house and an argument instilled when I questioned him about hanging with Melanie Garrett. She was our schools golden girl; straight A’s, head of the cheer squad and so much higher on the social hierarchy than I’d ever be.
In my defense I just wanted some reassurance from him that everything between us was okay. Instead world war three ensued and Ethan stormed out of my house without another word until this morning.
I glance down at my shoes and sigh as we arrive outside of my classroom. I was expecting Ethan to walk off to his class, but the brunette caught me off guard when his hands gripped my waist. “Are we okay?”
“What?” My voice was weak from having not talked through the entire drive to school and walk to class. Ethan looked down at me and I felt my heart swell when I noticed a familiar speck of worry in his hazel eyes.
“I shouldn’t have walked away like a pissed off teenager last night and I’m sorry,” he sighs and pushes a few stray pieces of hair away from my face.
“Ethan...” I bite my lip and lean into his palm, “We can talk about this later okay? I don’t want you to be late for class.”
The boy just nods before handing me my backpack, “I’ll see you at lunch.” He leaned in and quickly pecked my cheek before darting off to keep from being late. Of all days, he did not need a detention today. I watch as his number eight jersey disappeared around a corner before entering the classroom and taking a seat in my usual spot.
---
“So where’s Ethan?” My best friend asked as the two of us scanned the cafeteria silently in search for my boyfriend or his twin brother, Grayson. The football team was huddled up in the back, but there was no sign of Ethan having been there.
I shrug and place my tray down on the table next to us, “Should I go look for him?”
“You don’t need to,” my head turned in the direction she was looking only to find Ethan walking in with none other than Melanie at his side. Both were laughing and her hand was resting on his shoulder as they stalked towards his teammates.
My stomach dropped as I looked her over in envy. Her platinum blond hair was curled to perfection and her curves were accented perfectly in her tight cheer uniform. I’ve never been this type of girl, and of course Ethan Dolan has to bring this side out of me.
When he asked me out a year ago I thought it was all a prank, so maybe he was bored of me now...
“Hey don’t worry about it,” I stare in my best friends eyes shaking my head. “They aren’t-”
“We don’t know that for sure,” I visibly gulp and push my chair back so I could make a quick escape. Leaving my tray sitting on the table I silently stalked towards the cafeteria exit. As I reached the door I felt someones eyes on me, and when I turned around Ethan was standing up at his table watching me. An unreadable expression covered his face, but as soon as Melanie grabbed his arm and his attention shifted to her I exited the large room.
I’d made it a point to avoid Ethan for the rest of the afternoon and it didn’t go unnoticed. Rumors were beginning to spread that he cheated on me or that he broke up with me for Melanie; I don’t know how I made it through the school day but here I am.
I silently filled water bottles for the football team while having small talk with our schools athletic trainer. Ever since freshman year I’ve volunteered to do this. Not only to get into our games for free, but to gain some experience before college.
“You seem frustrated today,” she could read my like an open book and I sighed as my eyes caught sight of the cheer squad warming up to our left, “Is it Ethan?”
I bite my lip and nod slowly, “These past two days I haven’t been able to look him in the eye.”
“Why’s that?” a confused expression covered the older woman’s face. She was the reason I gave Ethan a chance in the first place. The day he asked me out I asked her for advice on what to do and she said to give him a chance and I wouldn’t regret it. Right now though, I was questioning if it was the right decision.
My eyes caught sight of the boys huddled in a circle around Ethan outside of the locker rooms. He was commanding, a natural leader when it came to sports. This was the only place I saw that side of him. “I’m just starting to question if this is all really worth it anymore...”
“Did he do something?” She asked glancing at the boy who was now jumping and screaming along with his teammates.
“That’s the thing...” I sigh and shake my head, “I don’t know if anything happened. I asked him if something was going on with him and Melanie and he rushed out on me. That’s never really a good sign.”
“I think your questions will be answered soon enough,” she sighed and nodded at the blonde cheerleader making her way over to me. “I’ll be setting up the table.”
I stand to my full height so I could look down on the shorter cheerleader who was smirking up at me, “Now I see why you and Ethan haven’t broken up after fights.” She winked and I felt bile rise in my throat.
“What do you want Melanie?” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest trying to seem intimidating.
She glances down at her perfectly manicured nails before back at me, “I was just going to let you know Ethan and I are going out after the game so you don’t need to wait up for him. He’s threw with you.”
“Yeah well I’ll let him tell me that himself,” I say trying to keep my composure but inside I was breaking. Did he actually say that? Ethan wouldn’t send someone else to break up with me right?
Melanie rolls her eyes and takes a step closer to me, “You don’t scare me y/n. And Ethan did say that, so if I were you I’d drive myself straight home after the game.”
With that she turned on her heal, strutting back to her minions. I was in a haze as the game began; silently doing my job, and keeping my head down the entire time. Ethan grabbed my arm at one point but I just snatched it away before continuing down the bench. Right now I didn’t want anything to do with him; I needed space.
I pushed myself up on the work table and silently watched as the timer ticked down in the fourth quarter. The game flew by right before my eyes, and I hadn’t even realized it. My eyes caught sight of a familiar white number eight jersey making its way down the field, but my eyes widened when I saw one of the opposing teams linebackers suddenly rush up behind him.
It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to warn the boy. Ethan turned to catch the ball and ask soon as it was in his arms, the larger man brought him straight to the ground. Ethan landed right on his side, and when he didn’t get up I knew something was wrong. He has a high pain tolerance and has constantly played through small injuries like broken fingers and sprained wrists.
My feet reacted before my mind did and before I knew it I was at the boys side holding his hand. “Where does it hurt E?”
“It’s my rib,” I cringe and squeeze his hand. He broke his rib at the beginning of the season and was out for a couple weeks, only to come back before it was fully healed.
I sigh and unbutton his helmet, pulling it off his sweaty head slowly. “God you’re such an idiot.” My eyes were watering slightly and I chuckled at the boy next to me.
His hand squeezed mine as the paramedics rushed our of the ambulance and towards his injured form, “There’s nothing going on with me and Melanie. I’m sorry that I ran out. I know it made you worry, and I know walking into the cafeteria with her today didn’t help.”
“She told me to go straight home after the game,” I sigh and watch as one of the paramedics dropped a backboard on the other side of Ethan. “Said you two were going on a date after the game.” He let out a breathy laugh only to cringe due to pain, “Don’t strain yourself E.”
“We need to get off the field,” The man said as he began shifting my boyfriend from the turf to the board.
“Wait.” Everything instantly stopped and he turned his head back to me, “I’m not leaving before I know we’re okay.”
“Ethan...”
“No,” he sighs and closes his eyes, “Melanie has been following me around all week trying to cause issues between us. When I tried to go after you at lunch she started a conversation with the guys about the game where they needed my input so I had to wait. I couldn’t find you after that and I literally looked everywhere.”
“Babe-”
“I love you y/n. Not her, not anyone else.” Tears fell from my eyes at his confession and a small smile formed on my face, “No one can ever replace you. I love you so much and I just wish I could wipe your tears away...”
I lean forward and his thumb gently brushed the water away, “I love you too Ethan now let these men do their job so we can get you to the hospital.”
The entire time I stayed by his side and I held his hand as the ambulance made its way to the hospital downtown. Ethan and I were going to be fine and that’s all that mattered in this moment. Well, that and figuring out what he broke this time...
#Ethan Dolan Imagine#Ethan Dolan#Ethan Dolan x Reader#Grayson Dolan#grayson dolan imagine#Grayson Dolan x Reader#Dolan Twins#Dolan Twins Imagine#Dolan Twins x Reader#The dolan twins#DolanTwins#GraysonDolan#EthanDolan#Ethan#Grayson#Dolan#Imagine#Youtubers#Grethan#Ethan and Grayson#Grayson and Ethan
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Our Cultural Institutions Must Die
By Don Hall
David is right.
This Year of Our Lord, 2020, has revealed quite a few things about us. The recurring theme is that it’s high time our greatest institutions must die. The mighty must fall.
Like every generation before us we Gen Xers are watching those institutions and practices that defined our first and second chapters of life fade to dust or be torn down like old casinos blown to pieces.
Gone are the Blockbuster Videos we flocked to for movies.
Gone are prank calls, Playboy magazines in your stepdad’s sock drawer, and the illusion that in presidential politics, the best man will win.
Gone are the malls we hung out together within, playing Dragon’s Lair in arcades (gone), seeing the latest blockbusters in multiplexes (gone), drinking Orange Julius and eating Sbarro (not gone because that shit has so much preservative the only thing missing from The Planet of the Apes is Chuck Heston gnawing down on a slice of that crummy pizza and washing it down with that odd concoction of Orange and Nuclear Waste).
David Bowie? Dead.
Eddie Van Halen? Deceased.
Keith Richards? Still kicking but soon a young Brendan Fraser will dig him up from a sarcophagus and he’ll open his mouth and scarab beetles will issue forth like a plague.
Ethan Hawke and John Cusack are playing grandfathers now.
Madonna acts like the new stereotypical Karen.
Ferris Bueller is now a representation of white male privilege.
In Chicago, the Second City comedy behemoth is now in a fire sale and I suspect Himmel is right about its fate as well.
The Second City will likely be bought up by an investment firm, similar to Cirque du Soleil. And you know how those investment folks love to shred the arts to bits in the dishonorable pursuit of making more money as fast as possible while squeezing every last ounce of authenticity from long-lauded brands like The Second City.
I came to Chicago in 1989. I auditioned for classes the following year. It was at that Piper’s Alley location that I met Joe Janes, Jeff Hoover, Lori McClain, Kevin Colby, Alina Vitas, Katie Caussin, Jason Meyer, Bob Wilson, and so many others who defined my life in the ‘90s. After two years in classes we branched out to do that thing improv comedians did—start our own group. Like an idiot version of Steppenwolf, we had those big dreams and it was the long legacy of Second City that fueled them.
Across the street where the McDonalds is located was the Stagecoach Diner (we called it the Roachcoach for reasons that seem obvious). It was in that diner, in full view of the famous Second City archway, that we created our live version of Attack of the Fifty-Foot Woman and the earliest versions of WNEP Theater. It was in Donny’s Skybox that Joe and I performed the first of our Locked in a Room with Don Hall and Joe Janes sketch shows as well as productions of Grotesque Lovesongs and Joe’s A Hard Day’s Journey Into Night with a young Jason Sudeikis in the role of Ringo.
I took classes in the Training Center as well as taught them. I saw Chris Farley’s final performance in Chicago there as well as performances by Carrel, Colbert, and Fey. I produced a few weird shows for Kelly Leonard in those hallowed halls and laughed a lifetime’s worth in the theaters.
It is wholly dismissive of the tainted legacy that others bring to the nostalgia table (they certainly have an axe to grind even as it is not mine) but I had a great time at Second City. I figure that some people got really ill eating at the Roachcoach but I never did and my recollection is every bit as valid as theirs.
Yes, our institutions must die in the same way that Kansas farmers burn their fields every few years so that the ash improves the soil. My guess is that the current crop of performers and teachers, so fully in throe of the humorless pursuit of justice and equity, will bury the place rather than regrow. It takes a sense of humor to build a comedy space and, unfortunately, unending outrage burns through humor like a wildfire torches pretty much all of California.
They may try and I wish them well. As a cautionary piece of unsolicited advise I’d tell them to embrace the history of the place rather than erase it. The New Testament only exists in the presence of the Old Testament and all that.
I won’t miss so many of the institutions of my early chapters because some of them have been updated in better ways while others proved to be less necessary than they seemed at the time. Updated and better include gyms, microbreweries, and grocery stores. Less necessary include start-up theaters, coffee shops, and mega-events like EDC in Vegas or Taste of Chicago.
The best and worst part of getting old is that the memories of a life lived are with you until you get COVID, go to Walter Reed, and take a bunch of experimental steroids that make you a drooling idiot. That, and at some point, there are more memories than there is life left to live.
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So I’ve known for a while now that Kellan Hawke figured out who Quentin’s O was long before the point it’s revealed in canon–Kellan and Orsino have a more regular correspondence between Acts II and III than Hawke and Orsino do in-game, and it didn’t take long for Orsino’s handwriting to jog Kellan’s memory back to the note he found in Quentin’s lair.
And then I was thinking about Companion!Kellan and realized he’d figure it out even sooner, because he’s been writing back and forth with Orsino since the end of Act I. The following happened. Marian Hawke belongs to @robotslenderman, borrowed with much love.
The Gallows at night is even more forbidding than it is during the day. He’d thought the slaves hung in bronze along the walls had been tasteless and misgiving in sunlight hours; in the dark, lit from beneath by torches, their tortured faces seem half-alive, their eyes staring after them as they pass. Ethan is here, somewhere, asleep in his new dormitory with the east-facing windows and five other Harrowed mages. Ethan, who used to crawl into his bed crying about monsters in the dark, who couldn’t sleep unless his wardrobe doors were tied shut. Kellan keeps his eyes fixed on Marian’s back and tries not to think about the years his brother has spent locked in this slave-pen of a prison. Or about what Ethan would say if he knew Kellan was here, had come here, not to steal him away, not to set him free, but for this. What Ethan will say if Marian decides…
It could be worse, he reminds himself, grimly. At least he’d persuaded Marian not to involve Fenris. At least she hadn’t insisted on taking the letter straight to the templars. At least she isn’t me. If it had been his mother—well. Dear Uncle Alester knows how that tune goes. At least Marian wants to confront Orsino before deciding, give him a chance to explain.
The door to the first enchanter’s room looks very much like all the other doors they’ve seen on their way up the tower: heavy, sturdy oak with space for a bar to slot into place and—judging by the lack of a keyhole—no locks to speak of on the other side. Isabela stows away her lock picks; Kellan hadn’t even bothered to reach for his. Marian eyes the door up with more consideration than Kellan has seen her spare for foes twice her size, then takes a long, slow breath. “Alright, let’s get this party started,” she says, all painfully false good cheer, and pushes the door open.
Inside is little more than a cell—a long, thin room already overcrowded by the wardrobe in one corner and the narrow bed along the opposite wall; the addition of four more people makes it seem downright claustrophobic. There are windows—barred, the glass dingy, but still letting the moonlight in—and a desk squeezed in beneath them. What counts for luxury in the Kirkwall Circle, Kellan thinks, bitterly, and shakes himself. Not right now. He leans back against the wardrobe, out of the way, and tries to steady his nerves. If he’s right—if he has the true measure of the man—everything will be fine.
He thinks.
He counts his breaths while Varric pulls the door shut behind him and Marian makes a complicated gesture at it; one of Anders’ contributions to this fit of recklessness, presumably, the muffling spell that will keep anyone from hearing what happens in the room. That thought prickles uncomfortably up his spine, and Kellan reluctantly turns his attention to the dim outline of the man still sleeping peacefully in the bed.
Marian takes a step forward, and another. It’s too dark in the room even with the moons outside to see her face clearly, but Kellan can imagine her tight-jawed determination easily enough. He’d seen it before, in her big empty estate, when he’d—
She is just reaching down to shake Orsino when the man’s eyes snap open, glowing faintly with the light of the moons. For a long moment, they just stare at each other. Then Marian says, “What, the first enchanter keeps a bedwarmer? The Rose always tells me they don’t do house-calls.” The luminous eyes narrow, and before Kellan can process just what the hell Marian’s on about, Orsino speaks.
“I am the first enchanter,” he says, with an extraordinary amount of dignity for someone who has just woken up in the dead of night to find himself surrounded by four strangers. His accent is—not what Kellan had been expecting; it’s flatter, bolder, richer even than Varric’s. “What is the meaning of this?” Marian ignores the question, pivoting smoothly at the hips to look at Kellan, hanging back in the deeper shadows of the small, neat bedroom. He thinks Orsino might follow her gaze; his eyes flash oddly in the dark, the motion too quick for Kellan to truly follow. He fights the urge to press back against the wall.
“You never told me he was an elf,” Marian accuses. Kellan stares at her. Of all the things he could have failed to mention, this was the one that got her?
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
“Except I just called the man a prostitute. To his face!”
“Enough.” The word is softly spoken; Orsino doesn’t raise his voice. But it still cracks like a whip in the dark room, silences Isabela’s muffled snickering and Varric’s muttered Maker’s breath. “I suggest you explain yourselves—now—before I call the guard.”
“They won’t hear you,” Marian says.
Orsino exhales sharply. It’s a small sound, but loud in the otherwise quiet room; as if Marian had kicked him in the chest. Kellan isn’t close enough to see his face, but whatever Marian sees has her hastening to add, “We just want to ask you some questions, that’s all.”
For several long seconds, there’s only the sound of Orsino breathing, slow and controlled. Then he says, “You’ll find I keep office hours for the express purpose of answering questions. I suggest you come back tomorrow and make an appointment.” There’s a tremor in his voice, maybe, so faint it could be nothing more than Kellan’s imagination.
Fire flares along Marian’s hand, blinding in the previously unlit room. Kellan’s eyes ache even after he’s squeezed them shut; he can only imagine what the sudden light must be like to elven eyes, but Orsino doesn’t make a sound. Marian says, “Few too many templars around then for my tastes,” and whatever else happens tonight, at least she appreciates the man’s dry wit; he can hear it in her tone. Kellan opens his eyes again, blinking away the after images, and gets his first clear view of the first enchanter.
By firelight, Orsino is pale, his eyes a silvery green when they aren’t reflecting the flames dancing along Marian’s arm, his receding hair mussed from interrupted sleep. He looks—younger than Kellan had expected, though perhaps that is just down to his race. He is also tensed like a coiled spring, handfuls of his thin coverlet balled up in his fists, his breathing far too rhythmical to be anything but a deliberate exercise. But he is watching Marian and her fire, curiosity beginning to overtake wariness.
“… This makes for quite the interesting reversal. We don’t get many mages breaking in to the Gallows.”
“Yeah, well. For some reason templars get really twitchy about letting apostates leave again,” Marian says. “Go figure.” The flames burn low, the light in the room dimming. Before they extinguish entirely, Marian flicks her wrist; fire arcs from her hand to the candle on Orsino’s bedside table, which lights cheerfully. “So, office hours are pretty much out for me.” Orsino’s thin lips twitch briefly in what is almost a smile.
“Very well; you have my attention. What is it you wanted to ask?” Kellan grits his teeth. He can read the growing stiffness climbing Marian’s spine even if Orsino can’t.
Marian pulls out the rumpled, faded letter, flutters it open before Orsino’s eyes. “Well actually,” she says, an icy edge to her playfulness, “I was wondering if this would look familiar at all.”
Kellan sees the exact moment Orsino recognizes the stained scrap of paper for what it is; his already-pale face seems to grey. He reaches for the letter and Marian twitches it back out of his reach. Orsino slowly lowers his hand.
“Where… where did you get that?” he asks weakly. Marian ignores that question, too.
“Only, see, a little birdie told me this is your handwriting,” she says, that unsteadiness from the night Kellan had first shown it to her back in her voice. ‘Dear friend’? ‘Fascinating’? What the fuck is he playing at? “Is it?”
“I—” Orsino stops, swallows. “Yes. It is.” At least one of the cold knots in Kellan’s chest loosens, then. That’s the first test passed.
Marian is stone still, barely even breathing, the fluttering of the letter between her fingers the only motion to her. Then, slowly, she lowers it, staring down at Orsino.
“So, what, this just—smuggling books on necromancy out of the Circle, that struck you as a good idea?” Orsino winces, his eyes flickering toward the door before dropping back down to his hands, now coiling in his lap. Marian’s jaw tightens. Give him a chance. Kellan bites back the words, forces himself to remember Leandra, the jigsaw of a corpse her head had been sewn to. She doesn’t owe him a chance. He, on the other hand…
“I made a mistake,” Orsino says finally, looking back up to meet Marian’s gaze. “A mage I had known for some time… left the Circle. I assumed he’d died, but eventually he contacted me again. We started a correspondence.”
“What, pen pals to the tune of necromancy for dummies?” Orsino winces again, lifting one fine-boned hand to rub at his eyes. When he sighs, Kellan can hear his breath shudder.
“Quentin—” Marian’s hand balls into a shaking fist, crumpling the letter; Orsino doesn’t seem to notice, “had always been a brilliant innovator, always pushing at the boundaries of what we know magic can do. What we think it can do,” he corrects himself, half under his breath. “Years ago, he wrote to me about an idea he had, a potential school of healing based on necromantic techniques. The idea was—intriguing, potentially revolutionary. I told him it couldn’t be done. He always loved a challenge,” Orsino adds, his lips twisting.
“… healing?” Marian asks. Orsino blinks and shakes his head.
“Yes, he—he proposed to use necromancy to reattach lost limbs. No more miners or tradespeople forced to beg because they’ve lost a hand and cannot afford a prosthetic, no more soldiers leaving pieces of themselves behind on the battlefield.” Varric whistles softly; Orsino half-turns at the sound, but stops partway through the motion, refocusing on Marian as she speaks.
“So, he was a healer?” Her voice is distant, almost sad. She turns away from Orsino, looking at the narrow, barred window, the moons hanging in the sky over the black sea beyond.
“Not when I had known him, in the Circle,” Orsino admits. He moves his hands when he speaks, Kellan notices, little circular gestures, flicks of his wrists, his fingers curling and uncurling. “I thought perhaps being out in the world, experiencing it… I wanted to believe him.”
“But?” Varric prompts, when Marian doesn’t speak. This time Orsino does turn toward the dwarf, glances curiously over Isabela. His eyes start to flick toward Kellan, but Kellan turns his head before they can settle on him, lets his hood hide him in soft shadows.
“But I started having doubts. There were signs, things that just didn’t make sense. His letters became erratic, he started asking for books that went beyond even necromancy into… much darker areas of study.”
“Darker than fiddling with corpses?” Isabela asks skeptically. Orsino shrugs.
“We have tomes and scrolls in the library dating back to when Kirkwall was still part of the Imperium. All under lock and key, of course, but we maintain a detailed catalogue of the titles and subject matter. Some of them are,” Orsino makes what is technically a smile, “truly breath-taking in their depravity.”
“Quentin,” Marian insists, and even the caricature rictus of amusement fades from Orsino’s face.
“As I said, I had concerns. Finally, I voiced my suspicions, questioned his research, told him I needed to know his process, in detail, before I handed anything else over.” Marian snorts and there is no humor at all in the sound.
“Bet he took that well.”
“Oh, very well,” Orsino agrees, with another painful-looking smile curling across his lips. “He accused me of being weak and narrow-minded, a willow-willed templar pet too frightened of my magic to seek its full potential. The usual raving one can expect from a mage who has lost himself.” He sighs, smooths down his blanket absently. “I broke contact with him after that—four, almost five years ago now. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“But you didn’t tell the templars,” Varric says, shrewdly. Orsino darts another glance at the door and then looks back at the dwarf.
“No. I did not tell the templars.”
“Seems a bit odd,” Varric persists, friendly, reasonable, and beneath that a hard edge to his voice. “Seeing as how you had all these suspicions that he’d fallen off the righteous path. Templars love chasing down rogue apostates, don’t they? I’m sure they would’ve been happy to make sure your old buddy didn’t hurt anyone with the knowledge you helped him get.” It’s a masterful bit of wordplay; Kellan can acknowledge that much, can appreciate how precisely the barbs are aimed to hit where they’re most likely to hurt. It’s the sort of thing he might have said himself, in different circumstances—the sort of thing he has said, to so many. But he feels no triumph in watching Orsino flinch.
“They would have been overjoyed,” Orsino says coolly, rallying. “Meredith in particular would have been ecstatic at the opportunity to brand me a maleficar. If I were lucky, she would merely have me executed; if not, she might have me sent to the Aeonar, where—” Orsino falters, his eyes going distant and unfocused. Aeonar, apparently, doesn’t bear thinking about. “In either case, the Gallows would have been left without a first enchanter, in the hands of a knight-commander who does not believe it needs one, and my people would have suffered for it.”
“That’s convenient for you,” Varric says.
“Perhaps.” Orsino shrugs. “But I know Meredith. She would punish all Circle mages for my mistake, if she knew. My people don’t deserve that.”
“You said you broke contact four, five years ago,” Marian says. She’s looking down at the letter in her fist, as though just noticing she’s all but crumpled it in a ball.
“That’s right.” Marian turns away from the window, back toward Orsino’s narrow bed, her eyes hard.
“So you’d be surprised to hear he’s been abducting and butchering women on some mad quest to rebuild his long lost wife?” she demands.
Orsino chokes. He doesn’t seem to notice that his mouth is hanging open; even his ears seem to wilt. Kellan watches closely, searching for any sign of duplicity, but all he sees is shock and horror, guilt and grief. I knew it.
“Maker’s mercy,” Orsino whispers at last, a strangled, heart-felt prayer. “I—who? How—how many—?” Marian crosses her arms.
“Oh, a good handful of people; I doubt you knew any of them. A couple of noblewomen named Ninette and Alessa.” Marian stops, her throat working furiously as she tries to swallow. “My mother,” she adds, raw and aching still. “Those were just the ones we could identify, mind.” Orsino bows his head, drops his face in his hands.
“I am—I—” Orsino shudders, and Marian watches while he fumbles. “Words cannot express—I am so sorry.” Marian stares down at him, her eyes like chips of ice, and then looks away.
“Varric?” she asks thickly. Varric sighs, rubs a hand through his hair.
“I don’t think he’s lying,” the dwarf says, reluctantly. Marian jerks around to look at Kellan. He nods. Orsino’s story was more or less what he’d expected to hear, knowing the first enchanter even as tenuously as he does. Marian heaves a huge, trembling sigh.
“Alright then,” she says, as though dredging each word up from an impossible deep well. “Thank you, that’s all I wanted to ask.” Orsino looks up, his eyes impossibly huge in his face. He seems to have aged somehow, the lines in his face deeper, more pronounced.
“I don’t understand. That’s—you’re just… leaving?”
“What, did you want me to kill you or turn you in to the templars?” When Orsino just stares, Marian sighs. “Look, I came here with questions and you’ve answered them. Let’s just… leave it at that, okay?” Isabela is already sliding toward the door, opening it just the smallest amount and peering out into the dim corridor. Marian turns to leave, then glances back. “There is one more thing, actually. If you ever need another set of friendly eyes outside the Gallows—just get word to Marian Hawke. Not all apostates are murderous psychopaths.”
She brushes past Kellan as she heads toward the door; he lets her feel him grab at the letter as she does. Marian pauses for the briefest of moments, meets his gaze. Then, with a shrug, she relinquishes the battered paper. “Go nuts,” she mutters, and follows Isabela out the door. Varric looks back at him uncertainly, but Kellan waves him off. This won’t take long. Varric shrugs and pulls the door shut behind him.
Kellan takes a steadying breath, then pushes his hood back and walks around to the side of Orsino’s bed, smoothing out the letter the whole time. The first enchanter focuses on him slowly, his eyes bloodshot and glittering and still catching the flickering light of the candle. After a moment, recognition blooms in that silvery-green. “Lord Venturi,” Orsino says, sounding very small and very tired. “I didn’t realize your brother resembles you so strongly.” Kellan swallows, looks down at the paper in his hands.
“I…” But what is there to say? I had to tell her; if it had been my mother—no. “I’m sorry for all this. Truly.” Orsino laughs, a fragile, delicate sound.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he murmurs. He doesn’t understand, Kellan realizes. He hasn’t pieced it together yet. He never has to know it was you who told me, Marian had said shrewdly, her eyes fever-bright while Kellan worked to turn her impulse to break into the Gallows into a viable plan. She really had thought it was that simple, as if merely not telling Orsino would undo the consequences of what Kellan had done when he brought the letter to her attention, as if it would erase his own knowledge of what he had done. That… had stung, a little. More than Kellan cared to admit. More than he will ever let her know—his reputation is his own doing; he can hardly complain if Marian thinks all lies come as easily to him as breathing.
That doesn’t make her less wrong, though. He has some integrity when it comes to his friends, else he never would have shown the letter to her. It would have been easier to ignore altogether, after all. Orsino is… not quite a friend. But he saved Ethan, all those years ago, and protects him now where Kellan cannot. He’s lost track of the number of times Ethan has extolled the first enchanter as good or kind or courageous. No, Marian. He has to know.
But he is oh so tempted to leave it be.
Kellan flickers the letter and Orsino’s eyes go straight to it. Slowly, he looks back up at Kellan. This time he knows; Kellan can see it in his eyes. “I recognized your handwriting,” he admits, just to be sure, dreading that faint flicker of betrayal in Orsino’s expression and searching for it nevertheless.
It doesn’t come. Instead, Orsino nods slowly, rubs a hand down his face, pinches the bridge of his nose. “You did nothing wrong,” he says, a touch of hoarseness in his voice. “Most people would have gone straight to the templars. I wouldn’t… blame you if you had. If Quentin truly…” His face crumples again. Softer, almost to himself, he adds, “What a fool you must think I am.”
“I think you trusted him, and he betrayed you.” Orsino startles, looks up from his coiling hands. Kellan smirks, slow and easy. “I’m a consummate liar,” he says, shrugging. “It seems hypocritical for a liar to blame someone for being lied to.”
For a long moment, Orsino just stares up at him. “You are very kind,” he says at last. Kellan fights back a bark of wildly inappropriate laughter. Kind. Kind.
“No one has ever accused me of that before,” he says, unable to entirely keep the laughter from his voice. Orsino’s thin brows furrow, and Kellan reminds himself that it’s late, that they’ve interrupted this man’s sleep, frightened him, burdened him with the consequences of the trust he’d placed in Quentin. “Will you be alright?” he asks, making his voice gentle, the way he had when Ethan was young and plagued with nightmares.
“I have to be.” He’s staring at the letter again, preoccupied. “… you should know,” he says carefully, reluctantly, as if he can’t stop himself, “if you were to give that to Meredith—”
Kellan moves without thought, bringing the letter to the flickering candle between them. The old paper catches at once, the room around them brightening as the flames kiss eagerly up its length. Like burning sins at service, he thinks, watching it curl and blacken. “Give what to Meredith?” he asks evenly, raising an eyebrow.
Orsino stares at him, the fire caught and reflected like wonder in his eyes, until all that’s left of his old mistake are ashes fluttering to the floor.
#dragon age fanfic#DA:2#dragon age 2#Hawke#Orsino#my writing#c: marian hawke#c: kellan hawke#c: orsino#lin manuel miranda voice: WHAT is a sleep schedule?
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WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND May 10, 2019 - POKEMON: DETECTIVE PIKACHU, THE HUSTLE, TOLKIEN and More
It’s Mother’s Day weekend and while Avengers: Endgame seems to holding strong, we get four new movies in wide release, two of which I’ve seen, both of which are pretty decent. Unfortunately, due to illness, I’m running a bit late on this column, but I’ll try not to cut too many corners.
The big movie this weekend is POKÉMON: DETECTIVE PIKACHU (Warner Bros.), starring Ryan Reynolds as the voice of Pikachu and Justice Smith from Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, plus the likes of Bill Nighy and Ken Watanabe, the latter who seems to be Legendary Pictures’ go-to Japanese actor. (He’ll be appearing in Godzilla: King of the Monsters later this month.) I’m hoping to still get around to reviewing the movie, but I will say that I generally enjoyed it, even if my connection to the material was the old TV cartoon rather than any of the games. (Look for that review before Friday, if I’m able to get my ass gear. In the meantime, here’s my interview with director Rob Letterman.)
I’ve been interested in the Anne Hathaway-Rebel Wilson comedy THE HUSTLE (U.A. Releasing) since it was called “Nasty Women” and was a straight-up remake of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, but I just haven’t had time to catch the one press screening, so it looks like I’ll have to catch this sometime down the road.
And then there’s POMS (STXfilms), a new Diane Keaton comedy featuring an ensemble of actresses in their prime, including Pam Grier and Jacki Weaver. While this doesn’t look like my kind of movie, I totally would have gone to see it if I could, but I’m less apt to see it than The Hustle.
The other movie opening Friday which I’ve seen and enjoyed is TOLKIEN (Fox Searchlight), directed by Dome Karukoski (Tom of Finland) and starring Nicholas Hoult as J.R.R. Tolkien and Lily Collins as his wife Edith Bratt. I’m hoping this finds an audience, even though it’s obviously competing with much stronger and more high-profile films.
Mini-Review: I began to watch this movie with some trepidation, because at least at first, it seemed to be a typical biopic, much like director Dome Karukoski’s previous film. At least as the film began, it cut between Nicholas Hoult’s Tolkien while on the frontlines during WWII and his early schooldays at King Edwards and then Oxford, where he formed a bond with three other students.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure I necessary needed to see a Dead Poet’s Society type way of getting the viewer to know more about the fantasy author, but that’s just a very small part of the film. Where the film really picks up is when Hoult and Collins take over their respective roles, because this is when the romance between Tolkien and Edith becomes a larger part of the story. It’s a bittersweet tale where Tolkien is forced to pick going to Oxford over continuing this romance by Colm Meany’s pries, who has become Tolkien’s guardian after his mother dies suddenly. The majority of the film bounces between Tolkien in the trenches and dealing with school issues, being a poverty-stricken orphan, but he finds an ally in Derek Jacobi’s headmaster.
I’m constantly impressed by what Hoult has been doing as an actor as he gets older, but Collins really brings more to their scenes together than any of the classmates or acting veterans.
Tolkien is a flawed film for sure, but the last half hour is so abundantly full of feels it’s easy to forgive the earlier problems, as Tolkien seeks out one of his school chums on the battlefield, a part of the movie where Karukoski is allowed to shine as a director. (Honestly, I think Steven Spielberg would be quite proud if he made this movie, and that’s saying something.)
I’m not sure this movie will be for everyone, even those who love Tolkien’s work as much as I do, but as a testament to what an amazing life he had before he started writing The Hobbit, it’s quite an amazing story with a worthy film to tell it.
Rating: 8.5/10
You can find out my thoughts on the weekend box office over at The Beat.
LIMITED RELEASES
There’s actually some decent movies opening this weekend, but the one that I want to give special attention to is John Chester’s doc THE BIGGEST LITTLE FARM (NEON), which is all about how he and his wife Molly left their California apartment living behind to try to develop a 200-acre sustainable farm outside L.A. For months, my favorite doc of the year was NEON’s Apollo 11 about the 1969 moon launch, but this quickly took it over after I saw it, because it’s amazingly educational in terms of what it takes to make a farm work. It also looks absolutely fantastic, and seeing the trailer in IMAX in front of Apollo 11 made me really want to see it. If you want to see a great doc that hopefully will be in theaters over the summer, then definitely look for this one. I’m sure it will open in a few cities Friday but hopefully NEON will do another great job getting out there as they did with Apollo 11 and Three Identical Strangers last year. This movie is a MUST SEE.
Kenneth Branagh directs and plays William Shakespeare in his new historical movie ALL IS TRUE (Sony Pictures Classics) which also costars Dame Judi Dench and Ian McKellen. It follows Shakespeare on his return home to Stratford after the Globe Theater has burned down, as he tries to reconnect with his older wife (Dench) and his two estranged daughters. This is a fine film if you’re a fan of Shakespeare’s works and were interested in knowing more about his last days, because it features a great script by Ben Elton, and fine performances by Branagh and Kathryn Wilder as his younger daughter Judith, who gets caught up in controversy while trying to find a husband. It will open in New York and L.A. this weekend, and you should look out for my interview with Sir Kenneth over at The Beat in the next couple days.
Opening at the Metrograph this week is Abel Ferrara’s PASOLINI (Kino Lorber), an amazing look at the Italian filmmaker as played by Willem Dafoe. I’m not particularly familiar with Pier Paolo Pasolini’s work, although the Metrograph did a pretty extensive retrospective last year. Like with All is True above, the movie covers the last days in the filmmaker’s life, and it proved to me that Dafoe is doing some of the best work of his career these days and like a few others (Woody Harrelson and Ethan Hawke, for instance), you can put Dafoe in your movie, and it will immediately make it better. I haven’t seen much of Ferrara’s recent work but I feel it’s been a while he’s been at the height of his greatness with Bad Lieutenant and King of New York, so it’s nice to see him creating a new movie in that general vein. Apparently, Ferrara’s movie premiered at Cannes many, many moons ago, but I think it was a smart move by Kino Lorber to save the movie and give it a release. By pure coincidence… or not… MOMA has been having a Ferrara retrospective (see below), so if you haven’t been able to get up there and see the movie, then you now have a chance with Ferrara and Dafoe doing QnAs after a few showings this weekend.
Matt Smith plays cult leader Charles Manson in CHARLIE SAYS (IFC Films), the new movie from American Psycho and The Notorious Bettie Page director Mary Harron along with her frequent collaborator, writer Guinevere Turner. As a huge fan of their previous moviesand with interest in the subject matter, I’m not sure why I never got around to watching the screener I’ve had for months, but much of it has to do with how generally busy I’ve been. Anyway, it will open in around 35 theaters and be on VOD this weekend if you have similar interest.
Opening at the Film Forum Wednesday is Almedea Carracedo and Robert Bahar ‘s doc THE SILENCE OF OTHERS (Argot PIctures). Executive Produced and presented by Pedro Almodovar, this is an amazing film about the horrendous crimes committed under the Franco regime in Spain by people who were able to get away scott-free when it was decided to create an Amnesty Pact of “Forgiving” after Franco’s death. The thing is that there are people who had been tortured or had loved ones killed who are hoping to get justice or just get their bodies back from mass graves, and this doc covers those amazing efforts. Frankly, I found this film to be far more interesting than Joshua Oppenheimer’s similar films about the crimes by the Indonesian government in The Act of Killing and The Look of Silence.
The Quad Cinema will have two new exclusive releases starting Friday, beginning with Christian Carion’s French thriller MY SON (Cohen Media), starring Guillaume Canet as a man whose son has been kidnapped, so he travels across France to where his ex-wife (Melanie Laurent) lives to try to solve the crime.
Also, the Quad will be showing Nicolas Brown’s doc The Serengeti Rules (Abramorama), which looks at five ecologists who broke new ground with scientific concepts we take for granted, and it looks at how the Serengeti might be the place to look for civilizaton’s sustainable future.
Amy Poehler makes her feature directorial debut with the comedy Wine Country (Netflix), which is getting the usual nominal theatrical release in a handful of theaters but mostly will be on the streaming network. It co-stars long-tie Poehler pals Maya Rudoloph, Tina Fey, Ana Gasteyer and Paula Pell, but I’m excited to see it for Maya Erskine from the Hulu show Pen15 and the upcoming rom-com Plus One, which was one of my favorite movies at Tribeca. (Don’t worry.. I’ve started writing something about that festival, too, so stay tuned!)
Opening in New York at the Cinema Village and in L.A. at Arena Cinelounge is Akash Sherman’s Clara (Screen Media), starring Patrick J. Adams as Isaac Bruno, an astronomer looking for life beyond Earth. This becomes more of a reality when he meets Troian Bellisario’s artist Clara, who shares his interest in space.
After years of problems and lawsuits, Farhad Safinia’s The Professor and the Madman (Vertical) is finally seeing the light of day, no thanks to a lawsuit put on it by star and producer Mel Gibson, who plays Professor James Murray, who begins compiling the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, receiving 10,000 entries from Dr. William Minor (Sean Penn), who is a patient at a asylum for the criminally insane. I have no idea how bad this movie must be to be buried as long as it has, but it has a great cast including Eddie Marsan, Natalie Dormer, Stephen Dillane, Jennifer Ehle and Ioan Gruffudd, so how bad can it really be? Good luck finding it in theaters but it will prbobably be on VOD as well.
This week’s major Bollywood release is Student of the Year 2 (FIP), directed by Punit Malhotra. As you might guess, it’s a sequel to the 2012 romantic comedy, this one involving a love triangle between a guy and two girls, and it will be released in about 175 theaters on Friday.
STREAMING AND CABLE
Amy Poehler’s directorial debut WINE COUNTRY will begin streaming Friday, though I haven’t seen it yet, so instead, I’ll recommend Dava Whisenant’s fantastic doc Bathtubs over Broadway, which will premiere on Netflix Thursday. I missed this movie last year but I got to catch-up when it screened at the Oxford Film Festival in February, and it’s fantastic. It follows Letterman writer Steve Young as he follows his passion to find rare records featuring industrial musical numbers presented at corporate events throughout the ‘50s and later to energize employees.
REPERTORY
METROGRAPH (NYC):
I’ve already mentioned how Playtime: Family Matineeshas become this cinematic comfort food that’s helped me relive my childhood, but this weekend, the shit gets real as they screen the 1977 action-adventure Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, featuring the stop-motion animation of the late Ray Harryhausen. I still remember first seeing The Golden Voyage of Sinbad at a drive-through in Framingham, Mass. when it first came out and I loved it so much I picked up the novelization. I wonder if I still have that somewhere. (I’m pretty sure I saw this sequel as well.) Late Nites at Metrographwill screen Lukas Moodysson’s 2002 film Lilya 4-Ever, as well as the not old enough to be repertory film Climaxby Gaspar Noe. (Lots of cool movies coming up in this series, as well.) Another series starting Friday is the first-ever New York retrospective of Japanese filmmaker Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, whose new movie Asako I & II will have its theatrical premiere at the Metrograph starting next week. I’m not too familiar with Hamaguchi’s work – though I’ve seen Asakoand generally liked it -- but I don’t think I’ll have the time to see his 5-hour long 2015 family drama Happy Hourany time soon. The series features seven of his movies, almost all of them shorter than Happy Hour. (2012’s Intimacies, showing a week from Thursday, is four hours long.)
THE NEW BEVERLY (L.A.):
After showing the Judy Garland version of A Star is Born (1954) today at 2pm, the New Bev has double features of Claudia Weill’s Girlfriends (1978) and It’s My Turn (1980), the latter starring Jill Clayburgh and Michael Douglas, on Weds and Thurs. Kathryn Bigelow’s Strange Days (1995) and Lizzie Borden’s 1983 Born in Flames will screen on Friday and Saturday and then the 1933 film Christopher Strong (starring Katharine Hepburn) and Anybody’s Woman (1930) will screen Sunday and Monday. The weekend’s KIDDEE MATINEE is the animated The Chipmunk Adventure (1987) while the 1995 anthology Four Rooms (featuring one room by Tarantino) is the Friday midnight and Anna Biller’s 2016 film The Love Witch will screen midnight on Saturday. On top of that, there’s a special Cartoon Club on Saturday morning at 10AM and Gina Prince-Bythewood’s Love & Basketball (2000) will screen Monday afternoon.
FILM FORUM (NYC):
It’s the last full weekend of Film Forum’s“Trilogies” series and on Thursday, they’re screening Whit Stillman’s (Is this a real title for the trilogy?) “Doomed. Bourgeois. In Love” trilogy Metropolitan (1990), Barcelona (1994) and The Last Days of Disco (1998) with Stillman doing select intros and QnAs that day. Friday is Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s “BRD” Trilogy, including The Marriage of Maria Braun (1978), Lola (1981)and Veronika Voss, and this weekend is a Carol Reed Post-War Noir Trilogy, including The Third Man (1949). Saturday also sees a Michelangelo Antonioni trilogy including L’Avventura (1960) and two other films from the Italian master. Sunday and Monday sees a very rare screening of Wim Wenders’ “Road Trilogy” including Kings of the Roadfrom 1976 and Alice in the Cities. Also, on Wednesday and Saturday is a repeat of a John Ford trilogy, including Rio Grande and Fort Apache, plus don’t forget the weekend’s family-friendly Film Forum Jr, which this weekend shows a bunch of cartoons from Bugs, Daffy and Friends. Obviously, there’s a lot going on at this venerable NYC arthouse and I hope to get to some of these now that Tribeca is over.
EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):
If you live in L.A., you can spend a good part of your weekend at Maltin Fest 2019, taking place at the Egyptian Theater, which includes a really incredible series of screenings and events with special guests. Friday is Nicole Holefcener’s Please Give with Holefcener and frequent collaborator Catherine Keener on hand, plus a screening of Sing Street! Alexander Payne and Laura Dern will be there Saturday afternoon to screen the filmmaker’s early work Citizen Ruth, plus lots more! I also want to pay special attention to them showing the late Jon Schnepp’s doc The Death of “Superman Lives” on Saturday night.
AERO (LA):
Thursday is a Christopher Munch double feature of The Hours and Times (1991) and The Sleepy Time Gal (2001) with Munch and the great Jacqueline Biset in person! Then it goes right into Starring Europe: New Films from the EU 2019 i.e. new films, not repertory but still interesting.
IFC CENTER (NYC)
Waverly Midnights: Parental Guidance shows James Cameron’s Aliens (okay, am I crazy or do they show this every other month?), Weekend Classics: Love Mom and Dad shows Martin Scorsese’s Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974) and Late Night Favorites: Spring is the Coen Brothers’ Fargo (1996).
BAM CINEMATEK (NYC):
In the midst of Black 90s: A Turning Point in American Cinema, which will include Ice Cube’s Friday (on Friday, of course), as well as Set It Off, New Jack City, Belly, Straight Out of Brooklyn and Menace II Society over the weekend. Also, the late John Singleton’s Boyz n the Hood will screen twice on Sunday as well as on Monday as part of the series.
MOMA (NYC):
Abel Ferrara: Unrated continues this week with repeats of 1998’s New Rose Hotel, 1993’s Body Snatchers and more recent films like 2017’s Piazza Vittorio and 2007’sGo Go Tales, and this series will continue next week. The current Modern Matiness will conclude with Pixar’s Up on Wednesday and Vincente Minnelli’s Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) on Weds and Thurs, respectively.
MUSEUM OF THE MOVING IMAGE (NYC):
Panorama Europe continues through the weekend but that’s all new stuff, not repertory.
LANDMARK THEATRES NUART (LA):
Friday’s midnight screening is Wes Craven’s Shocker (1989) with a QnA… but not with Craven.. unless they plan the creepiest movie tie-in possible!
That’s it for this week but next week, we get John Wick Chapter 3 and more!
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