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goblinchivalry · 1 year

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Summary of Oren Cohen’s Neverafter Interview with Brennan Lee Mulligan

The full interview is available on YouTube here! Brennan talks with Oren about just how scary this season is, how the cast and crew stayed genre-savvy and more.

“Fear not. Except in very small moments where we would ask you to fear.” Brennan Lee Mulligan about Dimension 20: Neverafter

This season is still very much seven people telling a story, and it won’t be abandoning comedy for horror. Brennan doesn’t want people to be nervous about that, though the fact people brings him a little bit of villainous delight. Dimension 20 is still first and foremost a comedy show, and this season honors all of the genres in this horror fairy tale mashup.

There’s gonna be a scene Brennan will definitely jump out of your laptop screen at you, The Ring-style and shout “Roll for Initiative!!!”. There will be scary moments, but they will be in the spirit of making entertainment and not trying to antagonize people.

One way Brennan and the players prepared to tell a horror story was by trying to invest in a richness of character that firmly puts them in a certain type of horror, that being one that a ~20 episode series could sustain. This meant going beyond just the external-facing, primal horror of something like a slasher flick and looking towards internal-facing horror such as the horrifying _aspects _of how people react/respond to horror, and relationships to the unsettlingness of this “freaky world”.

“There are some moments of actual “fright” but even more than that, there’s whole beats and thematic chapters of dread.”

This season is 20 episodes, a first! (Other than FHSY) Brennan thinks this might be a new normal for the most part. With a new studio space and investments from Dropout it seems like we can expect more episodes from the longer seasons.

The entire crew popped all the way off this season! You can see some ofit now with the crazy dome lighting in the trailer, and prepare to getblown away by the technical side of this season. They’ve got people working to bridge the art department with the camera department, more projectionists for the dome, and even in-studio sounds that the players can react to. Brennan himself has some control over the dome too for those necessarily time-finessed horror moments.

This is the first Brennan-DM’d season to jump back to physical minis! [The miniature sets on Coffin Run were so cool!!!] The sets allow some of the verisimilitude that A Crown of Candy had in its gritty, challenging combat. The degree of Ominosity evoked in the battle sets is something to look forward to.

The world-building in this season is so important that Brennan says talking too much about it starts to verge on being spoilery :0 “The Neverafter is indeed wrapped within the times of **shadow **and will take its dreadful time in revealing its true nature to our audience.”

What Brennan can tell us about the Players

They’re all classic fairytale characters: Pinnochio, Puss in Boots, Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Mother Goose, and the Frog Prince

Some strong vocal choices were made and committed to. (Looking at you, Lou Wilson!)

.This season is very driven by the players and the PC’s perspective in terms of accompanying them through the sense of dread in the world is important.

There were some of the funniest moments of side-wracking laughter in this season.

There was enough real-life stress in some episodes that there are some Adventuring Parties of which Brennan says he has never been in a more chaotic interaction space anywhere in his life. Expect the chaos of people cutting loose after 2 hours of creeping dread. Tune into the APs!

Brennan was unceasingly roasted by the players this season. (by the players at the table, but also by some of their mechanical play!)

Fan Questions

How scary is Neverafter? Are there more relaxed moments to breathe each episode? Brennan says there will be moments to breathe. He recommends maybe talking to friends after they watch episode 1 to gauge it. Fundamentally though, it is a comedy show, and it’s still got _fairy tale _elements in it. “More than 50% of it is the Intrepid Heroes having a ball”, and our desires for camaraderie and comfort and laughter and seeing friends hangout will be satisfied.

“Fear not. Except in very small moments where we would ask you to fear.”

Favorite episode or battle this season? Brennan loves them all and can’t pick a favorite amongst his children.

Can Brennan give us something that we can see and recognize later (if he wants)? “When you start to see the ink.”

What’s the most fun way you established ambience... ? The projections. It made it feel visceral and real; and rather than having the players have static focus on the table and other players, it made them look over their shoulder, and feel a bit smaller than the world in this looming horror season.

How did you check in and support the players after a heavy session AND how can I support my GM after a story ends?

Brennan checks in by saying “Hey, I’m checking in. How are you doing?”. Trust is huge. Having a relationship based around already doing that makes checking-in easier and makes it become regular rather than unusual (”It’s a good habit to have.”)

“Having emotional care be routine is pretty helpful. It’s like hygiene, and brushing your teeth, right? Are you already in the habit of, after a session ends, having a little 3-5 minutes just to babble and be excited and talk about how great it was. Do you have a little ritual around, like, "Hey I want to talk to you sometime this week before next week [...]"

If that’s a lot of work, you can always show your DM that you care ♥

How many NPCs are planned vs. improvised in a campaign like this? Certainly some are always improvised, but of course this season draws from source material, fairy tales! There were many amazing consultants this season with deep folklore knowledge. There was a huge list of fairy tale characters but not so much with written backstories as it was how they had been corrupted/changed by horror (Brennan’s got a good memory). Some were assigned ahead, others were kept up his sleeve.

Was this campaign high lethality, did the players have backup PCs at the ready? Brennan pauses and ponders before answering. He “cannot fault any of our logic in these observations”. That’s all he can say.

Did EXU: Calamity inspire the farther move from comedy? A Starstruck Odyssey was so wild and fun that a change was already on his mind before EXU:C scratched an itch that he wanted to try with the Intrepid Heroes. Of course EXU:C is tragedy, not horror, but the stretch of tonal difference was really engaging and exciting.

What kind of safety tools do you use?

Formally, X-cards, Lines and Veils, the classics. Additionally, if Brennan can anticipate something could be challenging he will hip his players in advance - avoiding spoilers - but as a way to communicate a level of comfort in advance & gauging collaborative enthusiasm for exploring topics that may be challenging. The formal tools are there for a reason (and recommended!), but are not used as a substitute for the main informal route of building trust, checking-in and communicating clearly.

There weren’t too many instances of that this season, most things were hashed out in pre-discussion, pitching the season, world-building, character creation, etc.

Making everyone feel safe and secure, even when exploring the scary topics, was always a priority.

On a scale of 1 to EXU:Calamity, how broken will this leave us? Brennan’s hope is that nobody is broken and that nobody was broken by EXU:C either! ...

“I think if you are broken... by Neverafter, it will be only to come back patchwork, pieced-together, re-glued, fused into something stranger and stronger than you were before.”

How did you balance horror and comedy elements? Creating atmosphere and leaving room to riff?

They go hand in hand! Monotony (being of just one tone) doesn’t really exist in nature and reality. Horror comes in to interrupt other things, and it’s not sustainable for very long. No one tone could persevere for 40 hours. How do you balance them? How do you not? Some people’s responses to fear is shock, and sometimes that means laughter!

[Brennan’s discussed similar things on podcasts he’s appeared on too. I recommend watching this question to see his full answer, it starts here]

How did character creation work for this season? Did the figures come first or did the PCs propose them? Character creation was them picking their characters. Each player brought a few and pitched them, their behaviours and their takes on them.

If you were a player this campaign, which fairy tale character would you like to play? Fearnot. A deep cut (though he appears in Jim Henson’s ‘The Storyteller’), about a little boy who cannot be afraid and went forth to learn what fear was.

#dimension 20 neverafter #d20 #interview #long post #neverafter #neverafter PCs #brennan lee mulligan #y'all: I cannot wait for this new season!!!

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nicoleanell · 6 months

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DEAR FESTIVIDDER,

Welcome and thank you in advance!! As I say every year (or every-other-year when I partcipate) these are just some thoughts, but feel free to focus on different characters/storylines/etc. I'm excited to see anything you're inspired to make from the sources below!

I also tagged all the fandoms so you can see how often I reblog stuff about them, consider it a vidding vision board. :D

If you're checking out any of these sources for the first time, content warning for some blood/gore in Renfield (played for comedy) and blood, jumpscares, animal death in Midnight Mass.

Film (Safety)

Renfield (2023) - Listen. Cinema peaked when Robert Montague Renfield decorated his little apartment in bright '70s colors and kitty cat bedsheets to Lizzo, and then peaked a second time when Ben Schwartz snorted a centipede. This movie is bloody camp nonsense but somehow also an earnest abuse recovery/revenge fantasy, and it gave me Emotions and a crush on Nicholas Hoult. His giant sad eyes and self-empowerment arc mean the world to me.

Television

Abbott Elementary - Wholesome sitcom in the vein of Parks & Rec following teachers in a Philadelphia elementary school (as a child of two public school teachers it hits close to my heart). I'd kinda like to see an Ava vid, she's so entertainingly terrible but then has great moments of growth as well. Or one centered on Janine, Janine/Gregory, or just any kind of fun ensemble thing!

The Afterparty - Murder mystery comedy with the twist that each episode, a character gives their version of events in the style of different genre parodies. Honestly I'd be fine with just a season 1 vid because I liked it more than season 2. (With the exception of S2 giving me the Sapphic Wes Anderson Movie of my dreams.) S1 had just about a perfect ensemble (Yasper being a highlight) and great execution of the Rashomon-style premise.

The Bear - Drama/dramedy set in the chaotic back-of-house world of a Chicago restaurant. I love how real the environment, relationships, and characters of this show feel. I adore Ayo Edebiri so I'd especially like a vid centered on Sydney, her ambitions and anxiety and passion, but again anything that inspires you about the show would make me happy! I love everyone in this dysfunctional restaurant fam. I don't really ship Syd with Carmy so I'd prefer not an explicitly romancey vid.

Midnight Mass - There's a venn diagram between Catholic Trauma and Vampires that Mike Flanagan seemed to crack like nobody else ever has lol. After Hill House (which I got an incredible vid for a couple years ago) this is my favorite of his horror-drama miniseries, I really love the mood and themes it explores about faith/religion a source of both comfort and harm. Pretty much a "do whatever you want with this source" request!

Web Series/Internet Content

Dimension 20 - There's a lot of source here and even I haven't made it through all the older intrepid heroes campaigns yet (not to mention all the side quests). I've basically seen everything from A Court of Fey and Flowers onward. Favorites include Neverafter, A Crown of Candy, and I'm really enjoying the current Burrow's End series. But honestly if there's any season or mini-season or general vibe YOU especially love and would like to focus on, feel free to do so! And if you want to incorporate stuff like art, minis, fan sources, or just rely on the player dynamics, go for it. I love basically everybody but special shout-out to Lou Wilson.

Amaury Guichon (the chocolate guy) (Youtube/Tiktok/he also had a Netflix show) - Guichon is a French-Swiss pastry chef known for making elaborate, edible chocolate sculptures, and posting usually wordless montage videos of his process. I'm just kinda curious what a Chocolate Guy vid would look like! Watching his videos and the work that goes into each piece is so fascinating, and he has a really charming and pleasant vibe. Love the technical skill, the commitment to the bit, and the fact they often look like they taste good on top of it!

#festivids #chef amaury #dimension 20 #midnight mass #the bear #the afterparty #renfield #abbott elementary

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oscopelabs · 4 years

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Unbroken Windows: How New York Gentrified Itself On Screen by Jason Bailey

It was 1972, and Lewis Rudin had a problem—specifically, a Johnny Carson problem. Rudin, a real estate developer and committed New Yorker, had founded the Association for a Better New York (ABNY), an organization dedicated to cleaning up the city’s image (and thus, its attractiveness to corporate clients) via aggressive campaigning and spit-shine marketing; the organization was, for example, instrumental in the development of the iconic I ❤ NY campaign.

But all the good work ABNY was doing, Rudin fumed to the organization’s executive director Mary Holloway, felt like pushing Sisyphus’ boulder when he switched on NBC late at night: “How can we change the image of New York when Johnny Carson's opening monologue every night is about people getting mugged in Central Park?”

As reported by Miriam Greenberg in her book Branding New York: How a City in Crisis Was Sold to the World, Rudin went to the trouble of meeting with network heads, imploring them to pressure personalities like Carson to lighten up on the “New York City is a crime-ridden cesspool” jokes. In 1973, Mayor John Lindsay himself called network executives and even some comedians to a City Hall meeting where he made a similar plea. This was in stark contrast to the usual modus operandi of the Mayor’s Office of Film, Theatre, and Broadcasting, which prided itself on avoiding censorship or editorial interference in the making of motion pictures in the city—indeed, several of the grimmest, grimiest portraits of life in New York (Death Wish, Panic in Needle Park, Little Murders, The French Connection) were borne of this period. But people had to go out to see those. Johnny Carson came into their living room every night to tell them what a shithole New York was.

Rudin and Lindsay’s efforts were ultimately unsuccessful. Johnny Carson continued to roast the city—especially after escaping it when The Tonight Show relocated to Burbank, California in 1972—and prime-time comedies like All in the Family, Taxi, and Welcome Back, Kotter mined similar veins of urban unrest. Meanwhile, gritty crime series from Kojak to Cagney & Lacey to The Equalizer presented a similar picture of the city—dirty, grimy, and dangerous—to that of films like Taxi Driver, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, The Warriors, and Fort Apache, The Bronx.

But in the 1990s, that all changed. And there’s a compelling case to be made that the change began with Jerry Seinfeld.

If we talk about Jerry Seinfeld, of course, we have to talk about Woody Allen, and not just their obvious similarities (roots in stand-up comedy, neurotic Jewish New Yorker persona, tabloid mainstay). In the 1970s and 1980s, while most New York movies were dwelling in the horrors and shortcomings of the city, Allen insulated himself in his upper-class Upper East Side neighborhood and made movies about people who were mostly untouched by crime, homelessness, and graffiti. In films like Annie Hall, Manhattan, Hannah and Her Sisters, and Crimes and Misdemeanors, Allen’s characters sip wine and trade hard truths and pointed witticisms at the city’s finest restaurants, parties, and apartments as the city burns around them; in Manhattan (which, by its own opening monologue admission, romances the city “all out of proportion”) he even edited out a joke about muggings from a Central Park carriage ride sequence, so as not to spoil the delicate mood. Allen’s New York was “not another world,” Martin Scorsese once said. “It’s another planet.”

That vision of New York—upper-crust, erudite, sophisticated—wasn’t entirely absent from the big and small screen in the ‘70s and ‘80s, thanks to films like An Unmarried Woman and Kramer Vs. Kramer, and such TV shows as Diff’rent Strokes and The Cosby Show. But Allen’s films, and even more so Rob Reiner and Nora Ephron’s Allen-esque When Harry Met Sally (a far bigger commercial success than any of Woody’s work), created a vision of comfortable, upscale, wise-cracking New York living that would reach a mass audience via Seinfeld, which debuted in 1989.

The first two brief seasons of Seinfeld (or, as it was originally titled, The Seinfeld Chronicles) struggled in the ratings, but it slowly built an audience and climbed in the Nielsens, and by season five (1993-1994) it was one of the top five shows on the air, anchoring NBC’s “Must See TV” line-up of Thursday night sitcoms. In September 1994, it was joined on Thursdays by another comedy, in which urbane New York pals joked, dated, and shared the horrors of city living. Friends, however, was a rating smash right away, and not only because of its killer schedule placement. It sanded away the rougher edges of Seinfeld; its characters were more likable (or, at least, intended to be), and its humor was less spiky. It ran even longer than Seinfeld, ten seasons, every one of them in the top ten, all but one in the top five.

Even as these New York comedies—and others that followed, like Mad About You, Caroline in the City, and The Single Guy—were topping the ratings, the face of the city was changing. “Don’t forget to in the late ’80s, you came off of a couple of financial crises, some bad times,” explains agent Chris Fry, of Elegran Real Estate. ”It was a little bit more affordable, things were dropping. And I think the shows that you’re talking about definitely had a positive effect on what people perceived New York City to be.”

Crime was on the decline across the country, but especially in New York City, a drop that began under Mayor David Dinkins and continued under Rudy Giuliani. The latter, in coordination with NYPD commissioner William Bratton, instituted an aggressive policy of enforcing so-called “quality of life” crimes like graffiti, turnstile-jumping, and panhandling; this philosophy, modeled on James Q. Wilson and George L. Kelling’s controversial “broken windows” theory, held that if these comparatively minor yet highly visible crimes were eradicated, the city would look clean and controlled, and thus psychologically discourage a lawlessness that would result in fewer serious offenses like murder, rape, and theft.

This vision of the city was certainly reflected in NBC’s Thursday night lineup. The early ‘90s comedies found fodder in the minor inconveniences of city life, but rarely trod into the seediness and crime that defined such earlier sitcoms as Night Court and Barney Miller. Paul and Jamie Buchman’s apartment wasn’t burglarized; none of the Friends were mugged in Central Park. When a blackout hit New York City in the summer of 1977, there were over one thousand fires, over 1500 damaged and/or looted stores, and nearly four thousand arrests. When a blackout hit NBC’s Thursday night New York City in the fall of 1994, Chandler Bing got trapped in an ATM vestibule with a supermodel.

If these sitcoms were the television reflection of the “broken windows” theory, their creators had a much easier time cleaning up New York City—in part because they weren’t shooting in it. Much like the films set in New York City before Mayor Lindsay established the Mayor’s Office of Film, Theatre, and Broadcasting, all of these series were shot on soundstages and backlots in California, with the exception of the occasional second-unit exterior establishing shot. So they took place in New York City, but the version of New York City they presented was highly fictionalized. Just as Paul and Jamie, Jerry and the gang, and the Central Perk crew were funnier and sharper than real New Yorkers (and lived in apartments far beyond their means), the New York they lived in was squeakier and clearer.

“I love Friends,” says Sire Leo Lamar-Becker, who was inspired by the shows of the ‘90s to leave California and move to New York, where he currently works in the fashion industry. “But Friends was so sterile. It didn’t feel real. And what Sex and the City offered was, I felt, a more nuanced portrayal of the city.”

Like the New York movies from the late 1960s onward, Sex and the City had the advantage of authenticity: It was shot entirely in New York, the exteriors and the sets (constructed and filmed at Silvercup Studios) and everything in between. “If you’re familiar with this series, and the movies, the city is integral to it,” explains tour guide Lou Matthews. “They've called it, like the fifth girl is the city. It's really crucial.” As a guide for the “Sex and the City Hotspots Tour,” which On Location Tours has conducted since 2001, Matthews has seen, firsthand, the psychological effect of that particular show.

“I've definitely met girls in their twenties, or maybe they’re still in college, on the tour who are saying, ‘Yeah, I fell in love with Sex in the City and New York City because of Sex in the City. And like, I’m already trying to figure out how I can get a job here.’ And then I’ve definitely met a few where the reason they moved here was because of Sex in the City, like they wanted the life that Carrie has. And here they are.”

The life they found was, in most cases, not exactly what these shows promised. “As someone who has lived here for 10 years,” laughs Lamar-Becker, “sure, there are some things that are unrealistic—like, Carrie being able to afford all her shoes. That’s unrealistic. But the feeling of the city is always captured well.”

And that indefinable but unmistakable quality, that feeling of the city, is what’s shifted most over the past quarter-century or so – through Seinfeld and Friends and Sex and the City into 30 Rock and Gossip Girl and Girls, through When Harry Met Sally and You’ve Got Mail to The Devil Wears Prada, Trainwreck, and even The Avengers. Some of that shift in public perception is merely a reflection of reality, of filmmakers and show-runners pointing their cameras at the city and capturing the gentrified, yuppified, Disney-fied mutation it’s become.

But some of that is also life imitating art. Every day, Lou Matthews’s tour bus is filled with people like Sire Leo Lamar-Becker, members of a generation of viewers whose impressions of New York were formed not by Taxi Driver and Kojak, but by the Sex and the City films and Netflix binges of Friends. They watched those shows and memorized those movies, and then migrated to New York City like so many immigrants before them. Their predecessors flocked to Ellis Island, lured by promises of a new world. These settlers came to the Magnolia Bakery, seeking not so much a new world as a better one, full of enviable careers, witty friends, and all the cosmos they could drink.

Lewis Rudin would have been proud.

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justforbooks · 5 years

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Rock music isn't dead, but it's barely hanging on

This is true in at least two senses.

Though popular music sales in general have plummeted since their peak around the turn of the millennium, certain genres continue to generate commercial excitement: pop, rap, hip-hop, country. But rock — amplified and often distorted electric guitars, bass, drums, melodic if frequently abrasive lead vocals, with songs usually penned exclusively by the members of the band — barely registers on the charts. There are still important rock musicians making music in a range of styles — Canada's Big Wreck excels at sophisticated progressive hard rock, for example, while the more subdued American band Dawes artfully expands on the soulful songwriting that thrived in California during the 1970s. But these groups often toil in relative obscurity, selling a few thousand records at a time, performing to modest-sized crowds in clubs and theaters.

But there's another sense in which rock is very nearly dead: Just about every rock legend you can think of is going to die within the next decade or so.

Yes, we've lost some already. On top of the icons who died horribly young decades ago — Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Elvis Presley, John Lennon — there's the litany of legends felled by illness, drugs, and just plain old age in more recent years: George Harrison, Ray Charles, Michael Jackson, Lou Reed, David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Prince, Leonard Cohen, Tom Petty.

Those losses have been painful. But it's nothing compared with the tidal wave of obituaries to come. The grief and nostalgia will wash over us all. Yes, the Boomers left alive will take it hardest — these were their heroes and generational compatriots. But rock remained the biggest game in town through the 1990s, which implicates GenXers like myself, no less than plenty of millennials.

All of which means there's going to be an awful lot of mourning going on.

Behold the killing fields that lie before us: Bob Dylan (78 years old); Paul McCartney (77); Paul Simon (77) and Art Garfunkel (77); Carole King (77); Brian Wilson (77); Mick Jagger (76) and Keith Richards (75); Joni Mitchell (75); Jimmy Page (75) and Robert Plant (71); Ray Davies (75); Roger Daltrey (75) and Pete Townshend (74); Roger Waters (75) and David Gilmour (73); Rod Stewart (74); Eric Clapton (74); Debbie Harry (74); Neil Young (73); Van Morrison (73); Bryan Ferry (73); Elton John (72); Don Henley (72); James Taylor (71); Jackson Browne (70); Billy Joel (70); and Bruce Springsteen (69, but turning 70 next month).

A few of these legends might manage to live into their 90s, despite all the … wear and tear to which they've subjected their bodies over the decades. But most of them will not.

This will force us not only to endure their passing, but to confront our own mortality as well.

From the beginning, rock music has been an expression of defiance, an assertion of youthful vitality and excess and libido against the ravages of time and maturity. This impulse sometimes (frequently?) veered into foolishness. Think of the early rock anthem in which the singer proclaimed, "I hope I die before I get old." As a gesture, this was a quintessential statement of rock bravado, but I doubt very much its author (The Who's Pete Townshend) regrets having survived into old age.

It's one thing for a young musician to insist it's better to burn out than to fade away. But does this defiance commit the artist to a life of self-destruction, his authenticity tied to his active courting of annihilation? Only a delusional teenager convinced of his own invincibility, or a nihilist, could embrace such an ideal. For most rock stars, the bravado was an act, or it became one as the months stretched into years and then decades. The defiance tended to become sublimated into art, with the struggle against limits and constraints — the longing to break on through to the other side — merging with creative ambition to produce something of lasting worth. The rock star became another in our civilization's long line of geniuses raging against the dying of the light.

Rock music was always a popular art made and consumed by ordinary, imperfect people. The artists themselves were often self-taught, absorbing influences from anywhere and everywhere, blending styles in new ways, pushing against their limitations as musicians and singers, taking up and assimilating technological innovations as quickly as they appeared. Many aspired to art — in composition, record production, and performance — but to reach it they had to ascend up and out of the muck from which they started.

Before rock emerged from rhythm and blues in the late 1950s, and again since it began its long withdrawing roar in the late 1990s, the norm for popular music has been songwriting and record production conducted on the model of an assembly line. This is usually called the "Brill Building" approach to making music, named after the building in midtown Manhattan where leading music industry offices and studios were located in the pre-rock era. Professional songwriters toiled away in small cubicles, crafting future hits for singers who made records closely overseen by a team of producers and corporate drones. Today, something remarkably similar happens in pop and hip-hop, with song files zipping around the globe to a small number of highly successful songwriters and producers who add hooks and production flourishes in order to generate a team-built product that can only be described as pristine, if soulless, perfection.

This is music created by committee and consensus, actively seeking the largest possible audience as an end in itself. Rock (especially as practiced by the most creatively ambitious bands of the mid-1960s: The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, and the Beach Boys) shattered this way of doing things, and for a few decades, a new model of the rock auteur prevailed. As critic Steven Hyden recounts in his delightful book Twilight of the Gods: A Journey to the End of Classic Rock, rock bands and individual rock stars were given an enormous amount of creative freedom, and the best of them used every bit of it. They wrote their own music and lyrics, crafted their own arrangements, experimented with wildly ambitious production techniques, and oversaw the design of their album covers, the launching of marketing campaigns, and the conjuring of increasingly theatrical and decadent concert tours.

This doesn't mean there was no corporate oversight or outside influence on rock musicians. Record companies and professional producers and engineers were usually at the helm, making sure to protect their reputations and investments. Yet to an astonishing degree, the artists got their way. Songs and albums were treated by all — the musicians themselves, but also the record companies, critics, and of course the fans — as Statements. For a time, the capitalist juggernaut made possible and sustained the creation of popular art that sometimes achieved a new form of human excellence. That it didn't last shouldn't keep us from appreciating how remarkable it was while it did.

Like all monumental acts of creativity, the artists were driven by an aspiration to transcend their own finitude, to create something of lasting value, something enduring that would live beyond those who created it. That striving for immortality expressed itself in so many ways — in the deafening volume and garish sensory overload of rock concerts, in the death-defying excess of the parties and the drugs, in the adulation of groupies eager to bed the demigods who adorned their bedroom walls, in the unabashed literary aspirations of the singer-songwriters, in mind-blowing experiments with song forms marked by seemingly inhuman rhythmic and harmonic complexity, in the orchestral sweep, ambition, and (yes) frequent pretension of concept albums and rock operas. All of it was a testament to the all-too-human longing to outlast the present — to live on past our finite days. To grasp and never let go of immortality.

It was all a lie, but it was a beautiful one. The rock stars' days are numbered. They are going to die, as will we all. No one gets out alive. When we mourn the passing of the legends and the tragic greatness of what they've left behind for us to enjoy in the time we have left, we will also be mourning for ourselves.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS

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pass-the-bechdel · 6 years

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Marvel Cinematic Universe: The Incredible Hulk (2008)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

No.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Two (20% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Eight.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

Not as bad as everyone seems to remember, but also, not good.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Martina barely has lines to start with, and she’s not even in the same country as Betty, so...no.

Female characters:

Martina.

Betty Ross.

Male characters:

Bruce Banner.

General Ross.

Joe.

Emil Blonsky.

Stanley.

Jim Wilson.

Samuel Sterns.

Tony Stark.

OTHER NOTES:

Bruce sees a bunch of guys harrassing Martina, and he almost walks away to avoid a conflict that could set off the Hulk, but then he thinks better of it and comes back to confront the guys and save the girl. It’s a shorthand way of showing the audience that Bruce is a good guy, not letting his own fear get in the way of doing the right thing, blah blah. I support that message, obviously, but I do wish they wouldn’t use ‘woman in jeopardy’ as their go-to method for proving something about a man. Martina only exists in the film for this purpose, she’s just a pretty prop so Bruce can prove his morals, and that’s not cool. Female characters existing only as props is not cool, and violence against women being used to demonstrate/further a man’s story isn’t cool either. Get a better lazy shorthand, movie.

Lou Ferrigno cameo is clearly the highlight of the whole film.

At least 60% of Betty’s lines are just her saying ‘Bruce’ with different intonations, usually as a question. “Bruce?” she whispers. “Bruce?!” she calls. “BRUCE!!!” she screams. She also almost definitely yells it in slow motion with the sound cut out during dramatic climactic points in action scenes. I don’t know, I didn’t think to take note of that.

Oh. This movie. It might be the first of the MCU films I ever saw, back before they had committed to the idea of actually doing a Cinematic Universe, so it was just ‘a Hulk film’ that I watched, filed as ‘bad’ in my brain, and never revisited again, even after the MCU got going in earnest and - years later - I got sucked into the vortex and wound up watching and re-watching all the movies in order. It’s easy to leave this film out of the chronology (and many people do); despite a totally pointless scene with Tony Stark at the end of the movie, it doesn’t actually tie in to the rest of the MCU in any meaningful way, and as an intro to the Hulk it isn’t really necessary: firstly, because most people who don’t live under rocks already know who the Hulk is from popular culture, and secondly, for anyone else, they get a perfectly serviceable introduction to him in his next film appearance (The Avengers), in which the role has been recast with Mark Ruffalo, who plays Bruce Banner/Hulk in every future MCU film and leaves this Edward Norton vehicle as a weird outlier better forgotten than incorporated into one’s understanding of the character. Edward Norton is a fantastic actor who has done so much great work over the years, but this was not a good role for him, and having rewatched this movie now nearly a decade after seeing it the first time, I’ll probably go back to giving it a miss whenever I trawl through the MCU. It’s a film with, basically, nothing to offer, neither as a standalone nor as part of a wider franchise. That’s a pretty sad indictment, but there it is.

Is this the worst film in the MCU pantheon to date? Probably. Not absolutely - I think the door remains open for debate (the other contenders for the title, we’ll get to in due time). The thing is, this movie is not as bad as history remembers it: most of it is actually fairly decent. Not remarkable, not impressive, but decent in the sense that it is stock-standard playing to expectation, it isn’t making any negative waves, it’s just there. The bad rep this movie has is owed almost exclusively to the way it ends, with an embarassing and meaningless Hulk/Abomination battle in which the CGI is absolutely not capable of upholding even the basic visual storytelling of two beast-creatures whaling on each other. Bonus features of that fight include: Hulk clapping his hands to put out a fire and SAVE HIS LOVE, and a truly abysmal use of the iconic ‘HULK SMASH!’ line. By the time the final fight mercifully ends, any and all goodwill the rest of the film had built up has been obliterated, much like the neighbourhood and the lives of all those poor collateral-damage civilians that no one cares about. Some beast-creatures whaled on each other in shitty CGI. That’s what we came for, right?

What makes this ending so particularly bad is how out-of-place it is in the rest of the narrative. Yeah, we 100% EXPECT a Boss Battle at the end, because that’s the formula for these things, but the movie does a really awkward job of not actually building up to that climax in a meaningful way that lets it feel earned rather than perfunctory. Let’s rewind; the premise of the whole film is that Bruce Banner is trying to keep his Hulky genetics out of the hands of the military, specifically a program overseen by General Ross, who happens to be the father of Bruce’s former co-worker/lover Betty, because of course he is. This detail is not actually important for any reason, it’s just an excuse for Bruce and Ross to conflict over Betty like she’s a cool shiny object, because ultimately she has no more narrative function than Martina the hot Brazilian chick. Anyway: Bruce is on the run from Ross, Ross is on the hunt for Bruce so that he can experiment on him forevermore, and Betty is there sometimes to say Bruce’s name as a question. Ross chases Bruce with lots of army guys, Bruce Hulks out at various points so that the action sequences can involve more than Edward Norton running away, and there’s a long-term goal for Bruce in the form of getting some Science to another Scientist so that they can Science a cure for his Hulky genes and he can stop running once and for all (it doesn’t work). It’s not a very inspiring script. It’s fairly straight-forward and predictable, but there’s nothing especially bad about it other than the pointlessness of Betty (the same as this is a front-runner for the MCU’s worst film so far, Betty is a strong contender for Worst Inclusion of A Useless Love Interest). Norton may not be a great Bruce Banner, but he does a solid job of giving weight to Bruce’s plight, and the overall effect is at least passable as a film, if forgettable. The problem here is Emil Blonsky, the marine tasked by Ross to head the operation to capture Banner, and the man who eventually becomes the Abomination whom Hulk battles in that cringe-worthy film climax. And the problem with Blonsky is not that he’s some kind of weak link in the script. The problem is, he’s the best character in the movie.

Maybe it’s just that Tim Roth is too good for the material (he is), but Blonsky is easily the most dynamic person in an otherwise flat film, and he’s the only character whose narrative arc isn’t instantly predictable the moment he steps on screen. He’s a consummate soldier, all about the job, and getting into the thick of things himself to make sure it gets done right. His road to becoming Abomination begins partway into the film, as Blonsky grapples with the aftermath of his first encounter with the Hulk - for which he was brutally unprepared due to Ross’ failure to provide essential mission intel - which led to the death of many of Blonsky’s men. As Ross comes clean about the super-soldier serum experiments that created the Hulk, he plucks at a few delicate nerves, noting the physical toll that years of service have taken on Blonsky’s body. Blonsky laments that he can’t take the experience he has now and put it into the body he had a decade ago; Ross suggests that, maybe, they can arrange something kinda like that. It isn’t played as outright manipulation - Ross has just told Blonsky that there were other experimental treatments in the same line as Banner’s work, and Blonsky knows what conversation they’re really having and has already seen what the side-effects could be if it goes badly - but there is plain prompting from Ross, to say nothing of the treatments he then actively facilitates, most notably the second dose which he offers despite having originally stated that if Blonsky experienced any adverse effects (which at that point he has, in limited capacity) the treatments would cease. It’s a situation in which Blonsky rapidly loses his agency, and for which Ross isn’t even a little bit blameless. What’s significant about this is not just that Ross is the ‘villain behind the villain’ in this case, but that Blonsky really...isn’t a villain in the first place.

Now, ‘villains’ in stories (and especially comics) who start out innocent/unlucky/well-intentioned and then become twisted are not uncommon, but the key to making those narratives work is that the story acknowledges the pathos of that journey; that this person never meant to end up as the villain, and it’s a sad turn of events that brought them down that road despite themselves. This is where things fall apart for this movie, because they kinda, oops, forgot to either (1) make Blonsky’s pre-serum behaviour clearly villainous, or (2) match his unwilling descent into villainy with a tone of empathy and regret for how his character has been turned astray. He isn’t presented as some paragon of goodness to be torn down, but he also doesn’t act maliciously or imply that he draws sadistic pleasure from his work. He consents to that first dose of serum, but it isn’t for evil reasons, he’s not bloodthirsty, he’s not going after the Hulk as a personal vendetta: the primary emotional motivation he displays is curiosity. He wants to get the job done, and he recognises the threat that Hulk represents, and he’s interested in finding out exactly what kind of a world he’s just been looped into. He may be antagonistically positioned against the protagonist of the film, but his intentions aren’t reprehensible from any angle. Thing is, the serum he takes is depicted as having a narcotic effect, impairing his judgment and fostering an escalating addiction that ultimately creates the Abomination; it’s all downhill for Blonsky after that first dose, the situation spins wildly out of his control, and he loses himself in the process. This is where the pathos should fit in as an essentially good (or at least neutral) person is lost to this drug, but it doesn’t. Instead, Blonsky becomes Abomination for the final act of the movie, and all of his characterisation evaporates so that he can just mindlessly smash things for no apparent reason. If he had been shown to be someone who engages in unnecessary violence and/or enjoys it at some prior point, then Abomination would be an escalation of existing villainous predilections, and it would work, but that isn’t the case. Where Hulk operates off an established base of anger/raised heart-rate/physiological response to heightened situations, and his destructive tendencies and absence of higher cognitive functions make sense in that context of reactionary hind-brain behaviour, Abomination has no established parameters or reasons for developing as he does, and searching the only information we have - Blonsky’s characterisation - for answers turns up no satisfactory results. Abomination’s rampage has nothing to do with ‘getting the job done’ (Banner is in Ross’ custody by that point in the film, in fact, so the job is already done), nor does it have anything to do with the Hulk himself - Blonsky and Banner never had specific personal beef with one another that would make a final confrontation meaningful (Bruce doesn’t even know who the Abomination is/was) - so Abomination’s entire existence feels pretty pointless. It’s just there so that Hulk can pick on someone his own size.

The final fight scene is objectively bad from a technical standpoint, with the dodgy CGI and the way-too-corny contrivances and the muddy uninspired visual mess of it all: it’s just plain bad to watch, but it is also not only devoid of emotional relevance or weight, it’s devoid of emotional logic. We’ve watched this process of Blonsky ‘becoming a monster’ in a literal sense, and it’s been the only part of the movie with any life in it (it’s not a deep well of complexity, but again, I think it works because Tim Roth is fucking making it work), but a boss fight is not a fulfilling conclusion to that narrative because we haven’t been given clear stakes in the outcome. Considering that Blonsky ends up a victim of Ross much the same as Bruce Banner is, it really should be Ross’ villainy that is ultimately defeated to bring us a satisfying conclusion, but the film forgets its own narrative in the course of pretending that Blonsky was the main bad guy all along, to such an extent that it bizarrely turns around and rewards Ross in the end. After transforming into Abomination, no one so much as suggests that Blonsky is still in there somewhere (his name is not even mentioned), he’s just a beast-creature now, and Ross gets to keep him and do all that fun experimenting that he wanted Hulk for this whole time, and no one challenges the idea. Remember how the whole movie was about Bruce trying NOT to get caught and experimented on forevermore by the military? Remember how that’s supposed to be a bad thing that Good Guys want to stop? Eh, who cares? Apparently not Bruce Banner, whose upstanding morals don’t extend far enough to want to save anyone else from the fate he has thwarted for himself. Not very heroic, just kinda leaving some other dude to take your place. As hardcore as Bruce was about keeping the formula out of Ross’ hands, etc, apparently he has no qualms about this derivative, and he just whistles on out of there, and that’s it. The end. Not a second thought for Blonsky’s fate, no fulfilling closure for Bruce’s ACTUAL villain beef with Ross, the bad guy gets what he wants and no one cares, the good guy completely forgets the ideals that he was fighting for the entire time and therefore kiiinda renders the whole journey of the film pointless, and worst of all, there’s no sense that the story comes to these conclusions deliberately, that it’s supposed to be off-kilter in any of these ways. It’s like they got to the final act and literally forgot everything that had happened in the film previously so they just stopped without actually closing any of the storylines, it’s a totally incongruous ending.

I’ve focused largely on how much they screwed over Blonsky in this process because I considered him the film’s saving grace the rest of the time, but really, the ending screws over every character, theme, and narrative thread in the whole story, and that’s the huge disconnect that leaves the audience remembering a bad film, not just a bad ending. Granted, it wasn’t a good film to start with, and if you were less engaged with Blonsky than I was and you didn’t latch on to one of the other slim elements the story offered instead, then the whole thing turning to shit in the end really can’t have been much of a loss. It’s not that they didn’t, at moments, have the makings of something that might be good, or glimmers in scenes that suggested a quality idea that might have shone if someone had polished it a little better. For anyone reading this and going ‘well, don’t you know they had loads of behind-the-scenes issues with redrafting the script and other bullshit?’, yes, I am aware of that. Thing is, it shouldn’t matter. A 150-million dollar major Hollywood franchise project doesn’t get to use ‘oh, we just didn’t really bother making sure the script made basic sense before we filmed it’ as a valid excuse. If everyone’s doing their jobs properly the way they should be at this level of the industry, then the audience shouldn’t be able to see your BTS issues bleeding all over the finished product; major script redrafts should be a Did You Know? trivia point, not an ‘oh, NOW I get what went wrong here’ explanation. At the end of the day, no one cared enough about making this a movie that would matter in the long run for an expansive Cinematic Universe. Tanking the whole film into a forgettable mistake that viewers would gladly leave out of their Marvel marathons was, ultimately, the one thing they did successfully.

#Marvel Cinematic Universe #The Incredible Hulk #MCU #Bechdel Test #female representation

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theliterateape · 5 years

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Hope Idiotic | Part III

By David Himmel

Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

A MONTH LATER AT WORK, JUST BEFORE LUNCH, CHUCK BURST FROM HIS OFFICE into the area where Lou and I sat. He ran his hands through his short hair, clawing his scalp.

“Fucking Jesus!” he said.

Lou and I swiveled our chairs toward him and leaned back ready for the meltdown.

“Department meeting!” Chuck said. “Now! Cuba Café! Neal, you drive!”

“I can’t. I have to get gas.”

“Good. Get it on the way back.”

In the car, Chuck kept ripping at his head and cursing under his breath.

“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Lou asked.

“I need a beer first.”

Our department was going to be dissolved. “A restructuring,” is what the Palm Gaming executives called it. Although the three of us loathed the corporate humping we had to do to earn a buck, we had a pretty sweet seat up. While our department was independent and served much like a communication agency to the four Strip properties, the restructuring would require each property to manage its own internal communications. We were being split up. Worst of all, our positions would fall under the umbrella of the Human Resources Department.

Beyond the occasional legitimate sexual harassment problems or veiled threats of retaliatory violence from a disgruntled former employee, HR served little necessary purpose. It existed mostly as an employee party planner. Companywide emails from HR regularly looked like they were written in crayon. Lots of big, colorful fonts and clipart and seasonal-appropriate .gifs of Cupid, leprechauns, jack-o-lanterns and Santa Claus. I once brought in a flyer I received from Stephen’s daycare about an upcoming event. The flyer for young parents with babies looked just like an email HR sent to 70,000 adults employed at a casino regarding changes to the Employee Dining Room’s soda fountain. (There would be two Diet Coke dispensers — part of a new health initiative.)

A lot of the information we dispersed was at the behest of HR, but knowing that we weren’t technically HR employees was important to us. The days of freelancing on the Palm dime, joking around and extended drinking lunches were numbered.

“Melvin Wilson is going to be my direct supervisor,” Chuck said. Melvin Wilson was the company’s diversity golden boy: A mid-forties black man with an ex-wife and five children under the age of seven. He was a reformed juvenile delinquent, having served a stint at age 15 for selling crack to an undercover cop. After prison, he found Jesus, and from there, a job in human resources. If HR had a cheerleading team for the company, Melvin would be its captain. “And they’re making me the senior manager of communications at Tigris. So I’ll have a more hands-on boss to micromanage me while I’m managing a smaller department. The upgraded title is bullshit.”

“It comes with more pay, right?” I asked.

“Fifteen hundred a year,” said Chuck. Lou and I laughed.

“So what does this mean for us?”

“Nothing is official yet, but you’ll probably stay with me at Tigris. I’m worried about you, Lou.”

“Are they going to fire me?” Lou asked.

“No. You’ll be sent to one of the other properties. And the whispers are that Lancelot’s Kingdom is gunning for you.”

Lancelot’s was Palm’s unloved, ugly stepchild of a property. Built to look like a medieval castle and themed as such throughout, it had become a glorified motel with rooms-by-the-hour since falling into disarray when Vegas outgrew its family-friendly identity. It was where hospitality careers went to die and where visitors checked in with hopes of hitting the jackpot but checked out emotionally empty and financially broke, having realized how hard exploitive capitalist dreams can crash.

“When does all of this take effect?” Lou warily asked.

“Probably by the middle of June.”

“Well then, I wouldn’t worry too much about me.”

“Why?”

Lou took a big bite out of his Cuban sandwich, which had just been delivered to the table. “I’m moving to Chicago at the beginning of June.”

“What the fuck for?” I asked.

“To make something of myself. Become a real writer in a real city,” he said with his mouth full.

“Are you saying I’m not a real writer because I live in Las Vegas?”

“No! Of course not. I was trying to be funny.”

“Because you’d be right.”

“What are you talking about? You’re a real writer. You just published your second book.”

“I write corporate masturbatory dreck and hump editors’ legs for twenty-five cents a word. My book is being outsold 500-to-1 by The Twinkie Cookbook. I’m not a real writer. I’m a hack with a dusty PhD who changes his son’s shitty diapers in his spare time. The only time I see my wife’s tits is when she’s feeding my son. Chuck, you can’t let him do this. He can’t leave us here.”

Chuck was a clawing at his scalp even harder. A few more ounces of pressure and he would have separated it from his skull. But there was nothing he could have done.

Lou’s mind was made up. He was in love and he was going to leave us behind for the big city and the girl. His commitment to the grand gesture surprised even him.

My book is being outsold 500-to-1 by The Twinkie Cookbook. I’m not a real writer.

He had sworn off the idea of love after his last serious relationship four years before. It’s not that he didn’t believe love existed, but that love was a hassle. Back then, he’d just bought his house and had settled in nicely to the bachelor life. Without a girlfriend, he was free of relationship trappings like constant accountability and awareness of someone else’s moods and feelings. Without a girlfriend, he was able to come and go as he pleased, do what he wanted, when he wanted, with whom he wanted. He liked being on his own — alone but never lonely. Girls came and went without much emotional effort from either party, which Lou found idyllic. He never felt anxious or hurt as a result of another person. When he was younger, he wanted to have a wife and kids, but after experiencing the spoils of bachelorhood, he had decided that he would have been perfectly happy never being married or having a family of his own, but rather always be free and available for the excitement of first kisses and the wonderful strangeness of sleeping with strangers. He figured that his friends would have kids, and he could be their cool Uncle Louie.

But then Michelle happened. In only a few months, her affection for him, and his for her, made him feel that real, workable love could exist. They had already been friends for eight years. That meant she knew who he was. She knew his idiosyncrasies, and she didn’t seem to mind them one bit. She may have even loved him more because of them.

And now, as for the move, Michelle was the perfect catalyst. Lou’s return to Chicago had been in his plans since first arriving in Las Vegas ten years earlier. Since he had a job straight out of college, he decided that as soon as his career had outgrown Vegas, he’d make his way home again. The decade was staring him in the face, his career was in the best shape it had ever been in, and Michelle would be at his side. He had what he referred to as trajectory.

“What about your house?” Chuck asked.

“Glad you brought that up. I’d like to sell it and use the money to buy a place in Chicago. Until it sells, how about you live in it and pay me rent? You’re moving out of your place now anyway, so what the hell? You won’t find a better place for the money.”

“And when it sells?”

“I’ll give you thirty days to get out.”

“I’ll talk to Lexi about it.”

“Lexi?” I asked.

“Yeah, we’re moving in together. Moving into your place, Lou, while we look for our own doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“Everything discussed at this lunch sounds like a bad idea,” I said.

We ordered another round of beers before driving back to the office in silence.

✶

AS LOU’S EXODUS APPROACHED, THERE WAS A SHARED ANXIETY BETWEEN THE THREE OF US and especially between Chuck and him. It was more than painfully apparent that their more youthful, troublemaking days were behind them and that their time together was limited. Therefore, every moment together had to be savored. So, on a typically bright spring Sunday morning in Las Vegas, Chuck and Lexi came bursting into Lou’s home while he made breakfast in nothing but white boxer shorts.

“Let’s go!” Chuck yelled.

“Good Christ! What’re you doing?” Lou demanded.

“We’re going to the Grand Canyon today. The three of us. Get dressed.”

“Nice boxers, Lou,” Lexi teased.

“You’re lucky I’m wearing anything at all.”

“I rented a Jeep. It’s goddamn gorgeous out. Come on. We’ll get breakfast in Boulder City.”

It was a day well spent. They walked out onto the new Skywalk and laughed at the magnitude of how disappointing it was. They threw big rocks down and took bets with each other on how many seconds it would be before they heard a thud. They reveled in the idea that they were making changes to the earth through destruction. Lexi took a photograph of Chuck and Lou standing at the edge of a ridge with nothing below it but the absolute bottom. They went off-road through the Joshua-tree forest, and Lou made his case against the band U2 — pompous and riding its own coattails. They stopped at a quiet desert bar for a few beers and a couple games of tabletop shuffleboard. Lexi asked Lou if he thought he’d miss Las Vegas. “I’ll certainly miss being able to have days like this,” he admitted.

✶

A WEEK LATER, CHUCK AND LOU WERE DRIVING THROUGH THE DESERT AGAIN, this time one-hundred-twenty miles north to the small mining town of Beatty, Nevada. This was a routine getaway location for the guys. It was on the edge of Death Valley, so there would usually be a couple of geology students from some university there studying its soil and plant life and temperatures. At night they drank at the Sourdough Saloon, situated on the main road just before the only stoplight in town.

The Sourdough Saloon had a large horseshoe-shaped bar where an Amazonian bartender served cold beers at two-fifty each, whiskey and tequila for four bucks, and generic frozen pizza from the supermarket for five dollars a pie. Old rifles and taxidermied heads of big-horn sheep adorned the walls. The jukebox was loaded with Dion and The Belmonts, and Johnny Cash.

This trip, like all the others, was a raucous spectacle. Lou drove them to Beatty in record time. When they walked into the bar, the bartender was in a shouting match with an equally large, though slightly less masculine, patron. From what the boys could tell, things were about to get out of hand.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chuck asked Lou.

Lou noticed a short, older man at the other side of the bar watching them. He must have sensed their confusion, because when he and Lou made eye contact, the man nodded slightly and began to walk around to them. He didn’t look like the average local. Instead of worn work jeans and a tattered undershirt with a trucker hat, this man wore khaki chinos, a blue button-down and a faded blue baseball cap. When he reached them, the bartender had a handful of the enemy patron’s hair and was shaking his skull the way a dog shakes a dead rat in its mouth. Lou whispered to Chuck, “I think this guy is going to fill us in.”

The old man smiled with one corner of his mouth as he reached into his pocket, then brought his hand to his neck and spoke in a slow, humming robotic voice. “iT’S oK. THeY’Re BroTHeR aND SiSTeR.”

Lou at first didn’t see the stoma in the man’s neck because he was too far away. And by the time he was close enough, Lou’s focus was on the battle at the bar. The man had to speak through a mechanized voice box. Chuck laughed. Lou thanked the man and offered him the barstool next to them. “Buy you a beer?” Lou offered.

“BuDWeiSeR. ThaNK YoU,” the man buzzed.

The fight ended shortly after that. Chuck and Lou drank heavily. When the old man was drunk enough and had left the bar, nerdy geology students replaced him. Chuck told the bartender he wanted her to show him her tits. She threatened to kick his ass. Lou offered to kick her ass instead. Then he apologized, bought her a shot and she backed down. They dropped twenty-eight bucks in the jukebox and played Dion’s “Runaround Sue” on repeat for an hour. With the little cash either of them had left — a couple of ones and a five — they scribbled messages on them and stapled them to the ceiling amidst other paper currency. They read:

Help! I’m lost. If found, please call Chuck Keller at 702-353-8068; This dollar bill was once touched by a real live Jew; Figure it out. – CK and LB, May 2007.

At one point, Lou escaped to the bathroom to vomit. When he returned, Chuck was gone. “Did you see my friend?” Lou slurred at the bartender.

“The little bastard was asking to see my tits again. I threw him out. Next time I’ll kill him.” Lou laughed. “Fuck you!” she yelled. “Get the fuck out of here!”

Chuck didn’t make it far after being tossed out on his ear. He ended up passed out in a heap in the street, using the sidewalk curb as a pillow. “Let’s go, asshole,” Lou said, as he kicked him. “We have to get off the street.”

They had enough sense to secure a hotel room before going to the bar, and once they found Lou’s car, which was in the Sourdough’s rear parking lot, Lou drove them to the hotel. He tried to anyway. All the booze rendered his short-term memory and global cognitive ability completely useless. He knew what the hotel looked like — a series of white, aluminum-sided trailers. He knew it was only two blocks from the Sourdough. But instead of driving there, Lou blew through the stoplight and drove away from town, north on U.S. 95 with Chuck comatose in the passenger seat. Where the fuck am I? he wondered.

After an hour of weaving the lane and the shoulder, he saw a small red light ahead and thought, Great, a whorehouse. I’ll pull in, and we’ll just sleep there. He and Chuck had been to brothels before. Not as customers, but as curious journalism students on a road trip to Lake Tahoe. He knew these places had what were called trucker rooms, which could be rented by the hour — much like the girl — for the long-haul truckers in need of sleep who passed by on America’s loneliest road.

But no one answered the door of the small house when Lou knocked. So he went back to the car and drove toward what he hoped was back to Beatty. An hour later, he was in town but still couldn’t find the hotel. He thought, Fuck it, I’m parking it right here and going to sleep.

He woke up to Chuck slapping him in the face. The late-spring desert sun was pouring through the car windows, cooking them both.

“Hey! Wake up, you fucking asshole. Why are we sleeping in the car? And in a gravel parking lot?”

“Because I couldn’t find the damn hotel last night. Drove more than an hour on the highway. Was just going to rent a trucker room for us at a whorehouse, but no one answered.”

“What do you mean, you couldn’t find the hotel?”

“I mean I have no idea where it is.”

Chuck pointed straight ahead through the windshield and laughed. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Lou had given up looking for their hotel in the hotel’s parking lot. The white, aluminum-sided trailers were about ten yards away from the car. It was morning, and they had to head home, but, since they spent the money, they figured they should get some use out of the room. They stormed the place like savages, ripping the bedding apart to get between the sheets catch some proper sleep for a few hours before showering and heading back to Las Vegas.

Dehydrated and hung over, the drive back felt much longer than the ride there the night before. Plus, they had reached the end of what was going to be their last adventure together for a while. Lou was leaving in a week.

“When did you know you loved her?” asked Chuck.

“Maybe when she first kissed me.”

✶

IT WAS THE DAY BEFORE NEW YEAR’S EVE 2006 — her birthday. Like always, Michelle was back in Vegas to celebrate the holidays and her birthday with her parents. After a birthday dinner at a steakhouse inside the high-end neighborhood casino resort with her parents, she invited Lou to join them at one of the casino bars. Her parents were both smashed and giving away twenty dollar bill after twenty dollar bill to the bartop poker machines. Michelle was drunk, too, but sober enough to refuse to get into the car and go home with her mom and dad in the sloppy shape they were in. Lou offered to give her a lift. On the way home, they made a stop at her favorite taqueria.

“You know, you really missed your window with me,” she said.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your window to be with me. All of those times we were each other’s stand-in dates to things, you never once tried to kiss me. And now it’s too late. You missed your window.”

“I didn’t know there was an open window.”

“That’s exactly your problem, Mr. Bergman. You. Don’t. Know.” She flipped her blond hair as she turned her head to look away from him out her window. This was how she flirted — by giving him a hard time.

When Lou pulled into the drive-thru, Michelle unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him, her back against the passenger door. “When you finish ordering, I’m going to kiss you,” she said.

Lou looked at her and laughed.

“Welcome to Los Tacos. Order when you’re ready,” the voice crackled from the intercom.

“I’ll have three regular tacos, two chicken soft tacos and…” he turned to Michelle who was still perched against the door. “What do you want again?”

“Two tacos and an order of nachos. And a Diet Coke.”

He turned back to the intercom. “Two tacos and an order of nachos.”

“And a Diet Coke!” Michelle said.

“I know. Relax. And a Diet Coke. Please.”

“That’ll be seven-fifteen. Second window.”

Before Lou could even depress the clutch, Michelle pounced. She swung her right leg around so that she was straddling him. It was a tight squeeze, and their faces were close.

“You’re kidding me,” he said.

She looked deeply into his eyes for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him. It was soft and slow and hard. It was deep and shallow. It was passionate. It was incredible. And when it was over, it left Lou dazed.

Michelle looked at him and said, “Okay. Now that that’s done, we can go back to being friends.” She swung her leg back around, plopped down in the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. The car in line behind them honked. Lou looked at her.

“You can do that again if you want.”

“Nope. That’s it. Just showing you what you’ve been missing out on.”

He pulled up to the window, paid and drove her home. As they divided the tacos in her parents’ driveway, Lou asked her, “You’re still going to be my date for my New Year’s party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. We’re friends. And friends don’t stand each other up. Besides, my parents are going, too. I’m not going to stay home alone.”

“All right. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Then I guess you will. Goodnight, Mr. Bergman. Thanks for the birthday tacos.”

“Thanks for the birthday kiss.”

She smiled at him and headed into the house.

By the morning, he was over the kiss. It was no big deal. He kissed girls all the time. But when she showed up at the party wearing a perfectly fitting little black dress, he felt butterflies in his gut. And at midnight, they kissed again. And when the party was over, they drank the last of the champagne on his bed. And she spent the night with him. And as they lay together, Michelle Kaminski took Lou Bergman’s head in her hands and said, “This face… I’ll never look at it the same again. What have we started?”

✶

“WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE?” Chuck asked. “To fall in love?”

“Just like you remember. Except better.”

They drove a few silent miles. Then Chuck said, “I met a girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her name is Gina Acerbi. She’s that pretty Italian girl who works up in sales and catering. Tiny little thing; great tits. She was in my diversity training class. I don’t know what to do.”

“What is there to do? Nothing wrong with knowing a cute girl.”

“There is if I’m fucking her.”

“Jesus Christ, Chuck. You and Lexi are moving in together in a week.”

“I didn’t plan on it. Jesus, man. Like Michelle, she just came out of nowhere.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I want to feel what you feel. I want to know what it’s like to love someone so much — and know that they love you just the same — that you’re willing to throw away your entire life just to be a part of theirs. I want that. I want that passion of making out in a fast-food drive-thru. I want those goddamn butterflies. You know what I get now? I get to move in with a girl — who I care about, and yeah, I love her — but a girl who reads the Bible in bed. You can imagine what my sex life has been like with her.”

Chuck had a point. He’d always been a sexual animal, often a crazed beast with an enduring tumescence. And whenever he and Lexi had a mini-breakup, he made sure to do as much migratory humping as possible.

“The Bible is sexy. In parts. Violent, too. That ought to turn you on,” Lou said.

“The Bible doesn’t give me butterflies.”

“And Gina does?”

“And Gina does.”

Part I Part II

#Novel #Novel Excerpt #Fiction #Chicago Fiction #Las Vegas #Las Vegas Fiction #David Himmel Author #David Himmel Fiction #Hope Idiotic

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keywestlou · 6 years

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CHILDREN SUFFERING POST IRMA

Who is feeding the children of the Keys post Irma?

Irma came and went 5 months ago on September 10. Things appear better in Key West. Duval booming. Though I suspect the tourist numbers are down. Down based on a fear that Irma’s effects still with us.

Physical damage more obvious as you move up the Keys. Especially from Cudjoe to Marathon. House damage, especially. Small tent cities evident. Cars visible housing whole families.

A food problem exists. Full employment has not returned. Too many businesses still closed because of Irma. Waiting for federal or insurance monies to repair or rebuild.

The food problem most evident with children. The schools have brought it to light.

I became aware via an excellent article in KONK E-Blast and the Key West Citizen editorial, both this morning.

The federal government ceased paying for school meals as of February 1. The kids still line up for food. Say, please charge it. The schools charge. Otherwise, many children would not eat.

The numbers shocking. Four thousand living units in the Keys damaged beyond repair. Prior to Irma, homeless children numbered 150. Now, more than 500.

Since February 1, it has been costing the School District $400 a day to feed the additional homeless and others whose parents have not yet returned to work.

The feds who cut off FEMA funding prohibit school food programs from acquiring debt or using surplus funding. The School Board has to figure out how the monies can be found administratively. In the meantime, donations are coming in to keep the children fed.

Another big evening last night.

Began with the Sons and Daughters of Italy’s scholarship fundraiser. Involved was a silent auction and drawing for a cooked and served Italian dinner for 8.

Free food at the event. Home made by the members. Outstanding! I could not have eaten better anywhere else last night. Dates stuffed with goat cheese wrapped in bacon. Meatballs in sauce. More. All mouth watering.

Blew my diet a bit. Only as to the stuffed dates. Enjoyed two.

Catherine was with me. We went over to Louie’s Backyard afterwards. Sat on the deck outside enjoying a couple of drinks.

I ran into Kate Miano. One of the finest persons in Key West. She told me she decided to run for Mayor. She will win. If she is able to run the City as she does her Gardens Hotel, Key West will benefit big time.

I was pleased and impressed with the announcement by Mueller yesterday that 13 Russians and 3 Russian companies had been indicted for screwing around with our Presidential election. Knocks the legs out of Trump’s claim that the Russians did not. Recall, he said Putin told him he and the Russians had nothing to do with it. He believed Putin.

I switched to FOX News immediately upon learning. Curious as to how FOX would be handling the news. Hannity was on. He seemed out of kilter. Unusual for him. Always damning things not Trump. He was obviously confused. He was suggesting the indictments were serious business and proof the Russians had committed wrong.

A couple of hours later when I returned to FOX, it was obvious Hannity had received other orders. Nothing good re the indictments was coming out of his mouth.

This morning FOX was the same. Three newscasters chatting back and forth. All negative re the indictments, of course. They lack backbone. They also don’t want to lose their pay checks.

I came across a Woodrow Wilson quote. Fits Trump perfectly: “All the extraordinary men I have ever known were chiefly extraordinary in their own estimation.”

Trump visited Parkland last night. Stopped at the hospital. Spoke to two of the injured children. A boy and girl. Focused his statements on first responders and the wonderful job they did. Failed to discuss the shooting itself, guns, and change to our gun laws.

Governor Scott and Senator Rubio were with him. It is reported Rubio spoke to the President emotionally re the impact on local families: ” This is a community and a state that’s in deep pain and they want action to make sure this never happens again.”

Trump replied: ” You can count on it.”

Good luck!

Trump recently submitted his proposed budget. The budget calls for a 30 percent cut to an Education Department grant program that supports safe schools. The budget also slashes public funds for mental health treatment.

The President speaks out of both sides of his mouth.

Seems to be a Trump morning for me.

Another Trump story involving the ladies. If this paragraph were titled, it would read something like Same Place, Same Week, Same Bungalow, Lake Tahoe.

It was reported that at the same 2006 golf tournament at Lake Tahoe where the President purportedly had a sexual liaison with porn star Stormy Daniels, he had another. She revealed herself yesterday. Her name Karen McDougal. 1998 Playboy Playmate of the Year. She received $150,000. Daniels settled for $130,000.

And no one seems to care. Morality out the window as far as this President is concerned.

Syracuse/Miami at noon. Vegas line has Miami a 6 point favorite. Syracuse needs the win. I will be watching.

Enjoy your day!

CHILDREN SUFFERING POST IRMA was originally published on Key West Lou

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successwize-blog · 7 years

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The 'Will and Grace' revival trailer is here and it'll hit all your nostalgia buttons, honey

They're back, honey!

Image: nbc

It's upfronts week in the TV world that magical time of year when the broadcast networks announce the new shows they've picked up and give us a first look at the trailers for their fall dramas and comedies. First up is NBC, which is debuting two new dramas and one new(ish) comedy for fall, with nine more that will premiere later in the 2017-2018 schedule. Check out the first trailers for the Will & Grace revival; the latest installment in Law & Order's new anthology series, True Crime: The Menendez Murders; and political thriller The Brave trailers for the other shows will be available at a later date.

Will & Grace - Thursdays at 8 p.m.

That's right, honey Debra Messing, Eric McCormack, Sean Hayes and Megan Mullally reprise their infamous roles as Will, Grace, Jack and Karen in a 12-episode revival of the hit comedy. The legendary James Burrows, director of every original Will & Grace episode, returns along with original creators Max Mutchnick and David Kohan, and a slew of razor-sharp jabs and dirty martinis.

The Brave - Mondays at 10 p.m.

While D.I.A. Deputy Director Patricia Campbell (Anne Heche) and her team of analysts wield the worlds most advanced surveillance technology from Washington, D.C., Adam Dalton (Mike Vogel) and his heroic Special Ops squad of highly trained undercover specialists use their unbreakable bond and commitment to freedom to save lives of innocent people and execute missions in some of the most dangerous places in the world.

Law & Order True Crime: The Menendez Murders - Thursdays at 10 p.m.

NBC's answer to The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story, this eight-episode true-crime installment of the Law & Order franchise delivers an in-depth dramatization of the notorious murder case that changed America forever. When the Menendez brothers were tried on national TV for brutally killing their parents in Beverly Hills, their story became a national obsession. Now, the first edition of this anthology series delves into the players, the crime and the media circus, detailing the day-to-day battles of the trial and unveiling the shocking truth of what really went down when the cameras stopped rolling.

Midseason

Good Girls

Retta as Ruby, Mae Whitman as Annie in 'Good Girls'

Image: nbc

When three suburban moms get tired of trying to make ends meet, they decide its time to stick up for themselves by robbing the local supermarket at (toy) gunpoint. But when the manager catches a glimpse of one of them and the loot is far more than they expected, it doesnt take long for the three best friends to realize the perfect getaway will be harder than they think. From executive producer Jenna Bans (Scandal) comes this comedy-infused drama that mixes a little Thelma & Louise with a bit of Breaking Bad. The cast includes Retta, Mae Whitman, Reno Wilson, Manny Montana, Lidya Jewett, Izzy Stannard and Matthew Lillard.

Reverie

Sarah Shahi as Mara Knit, Dennis Haysbert as Charlie Ventana in 'Reverie'

Image: nbc

From Mickey Fisher, the creator of Extant, this grounded thriller follows Mara Kint (Sarah Shahi), a former hostage negotiator and expert on human behavior who became a college professor after facing an unimaginable personal tragedy. But when shes brought in to save ordinary people who have lost themselves in a highly advanced virtual-reality program in which you can literally live your dreams, she finds that in saving others, she may actually have discovered a way to save herself. The cast includes Dennis Haysbert, Jessica Lu, Sendhil Ramamurthy and Kathryn Morris.

A.P. Bio

Glenn Howerton as Jack as 'A.P. Bio'

Image: NBC

When a philosophy scholar loses out on his dream job and goes to work as a high school Advanced Placement biology teacher, he makes it clear he will not be teaching any biology. Realizing he has a room full of honor roll students at his disposal, he decides instead to use the kids to his own benefit. The cast includes Glenn Howerton, Patton Oswalt, Lyric Lewis, Mary Sohn, Aparna Brielle, Jacob McCarthy, Nick Peine and guest star Vanessa Bayer.

Champions

J.J. Totah as Michael, Mindy Kaling as Priya in 'Champions'

Image: NBC

Vince, a charismatic gym owner with no ambition, lives with his younger brother Michael, a gorgeous idiot. Their simple life of women and working out is put on hold when the teenage son of Vince is dropped off on their doorstep by Priya (Mindy Kaling), one of his old high school flings.The cast includes Anders Holm, Andy Favreau, J.J. Totah, Mouzam Makkar and Nina Wadia.

Rise

From Jason Katims, writer and executive producer of Friday Night Lights and Parenthood, and Hamilton producer Jeffrey Seller comes a new drama about finding inspiration in unexpected places. When dedicated teacher and family man Lou Mazzuchelli (Josh Radnor) sheds his own self-doubt and takes over the schools lackluster theater department, he galvanizes not only the faculty and students but the entire working-class town. Inspired by a true story. The cast includes Rosie Perez, Marley Shelton, Aulii Cravalho, Damon J. Gillespie, Amy Forsyth, Rarmian Newton, Ted Sutherland, Casey Johnson, Taylor Richardson, Joe Tippett and Shirley Rumierk.

The Awesome Show

From executive producer/host Chris Hardwick, executive producer Mark Burnett and Silicon Valleys Singularity University comes a new series that will showcase the groundbreaking scientific and technological advances that are shaping the future, as well as celebrate the pioneers and communities at the forefront of this golden age of unprecedented discovery, innovation and opportunity. Each episode of The Awesome Show will be a rollercoaster ride through the world of innovation as told by the people who are shaping it and whose lives are affected by it.

Ellen's Game of Games

Ellen DeGeneres hosts a new game show that features super-sized versions of some of the most beloved games from The Ellen DeGeneres Show, as well as new trials. Contestants will be pulled from the studio audience to maneuver massive obstacles while answering trivia questions, all under the pressure of DeGeneres' mischievous antics.

Genius Junior

No stranger to young geniuses, Neil Patrick Harris hosts a new game show that celebrates the smartest kids in America. These talented genius juniors will team up to take on mind-blowing tests of logic, math, memory, spelling and more. Through escalating rounds, they will be tested in each area of the brain, culminating in an ultimate challenge to be crowned the smartest and brightest. The winning team will take home a life-changing prize setting the stage for a big, bright future ahead.

The Handmade Project

From executive producer and host Amy Poehler and co-host Nick Offerman comes a lighthearted competition celebrating the creativity and craftiness in all of us. Each week, eight amateur makers will take on a series of projects they must complete in their own unique way. As the competition escalates, the amateurs will be challenged to master progressively difficult skills, culminating in a final craft-off between the most creative and tenacious contestants. And here are the returning favorites that will be back on NBC next season: The Blacklist, Blindspot, Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Chicago P.D., Dateline NBC, The Good Place, Great News, Law & Order: SVU, Little Big Shots, Shades of Blue, Superstore, Taken, This Is Us, Timeless, The Voice and The Wall.

WATCH: Yes, this TV really is transparent