#the death of cinema and my father too
Photo
Olavi next to his dying mother 1/2
Laulu tulipunaisesta kukasta (1938) dir. Teuvo Tulio
#laulu tulipunaisesta kukasta#the song of the scarlet flower#teuvo tulio#kaarlo oksanen#finnish cinema#suomi-filmi#cinematography#the story of olavi is really a tragic one actually#his father is a harsh man who used to be a womanizer too#his mother learns that her son is alike so she gives words of wisdom#olavi respects her so her death is tough for him#the love he missed from his parents he seeks in other women#my caps#own post
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Do you know why Spider-Verse Miles is my favorite Spider-Man?
He, without having a choice, had to do in two days, what took all the other Spider-Sonas in the multiverse weeks, become Spider-Man, all under the unimaginable pressure of being the successor to the previous Spider-Man of his universe, which left the bar too high, having to meet everyone else's expectations, and having to go through a tortuous journey while learning from his mentor.
Even when the spider-gang not only didn't trust him but even seemed to dislike Miles at first (Except, of course, Gwen and Peter B, who are very special cases)
And pressing him to see if he was ready and treating him like just a kid (Even Peni).
All so that he then went to his uncle, who was like a second father to him and someone who truly understood Miles, only to find out that he had always been a hitman, going so far as to almost end with the life of his nephew, until he realizes what he was about to do and... well, tragedy happens.
The death of Uncle Aaron, due to the depth and history behind it, remains the most tragic "death of Uncle Ben" in all of cinema... ever.
Miles stopped being the same since then, and even when a hurricane of emotions possessed him, he learned that no matter what, Spider-Man always gets up and keeps going, at the same time he learned to take his leap of faith. Before becoming Spider-Man he had a normal and happy life, but after being bitten by that spider his whole life fell apart, but of course, Miles is someone truly strong and full of determination thanks to the people close to him.
In two days, he surpassed almost the entire Spider-gang, and in a year and a half he become almost a professional as Spider-Man, even giving lessons to everyone else, and making it clear to Gwen and the others what truly means being Spider-Man, not standing by crossed arms while someone is in danger, but trying to do everything you can to save everyone, doing both things, even when it seems impossible, Spider-Man should always try, because everything it's possible.
At the same time that Miles felt stabbed in the back by the same people to whom he wanted to dedicate his entire future just to see them again since he felt alone and sad inside in the world without them, and, specially, without Gwen.
And let me remind something, Miles actually thinks she doesn't even love him and only sees him as a friend, but he still wants to see her
On the ATSV betrayal, he release all that hurricane of emotions that he had to swallow and accumulate inside during ITSV and during that entire year and a half for not having time for ALL those things said before, leading him to have anxiety and panic attacks (Something confirmed in the synopsis of the short "The Spider Within")
All so that they later reveal to him that he was a mistake, an anomaly, that he should never have been Spider-Man, that he killed the Peter of his universe, causing everything that gave MEANING to his life fell down in just a few minutes, leaving Miles more traumatized, mortified and with more trust issues than he already had before.
He really became one of the most tragic character of all the saga (Along with Peter B and, put it in some way, Miguel O' Hara)
And just because Miles looks with a cool and chill personality doesn't mean he's any less traumatized and mortified on the inside (An example is Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man).
Even though in the comics that nickname is only used because that is what his universe is called, in the movies, on the other hand, even though there are people on the internet who deny the fact that he is currently becoming an unstoppable phenomenon that is marking an entire generation and will mark future generations, Miles Morales proved to be, without a doubt, the Ultimate Spider-Man.
As a bonus, even though she always screwed up with everyone around her, both the living and the dead, Gwen showed that she really loves Miles and that he truly is the love of her life, however, needless to say, she has a lot of work to do in her redemption arc to be able to fix things with Miles, which will be very difficult but not impossible, even more so taking into account all the hate she received for everything that happened in ATSV.
Now she has to PROVE not only to him, but to all of us viewers, that she truly deserves to be with Miles, that they can have a life together by her own merit, and that all the hate towards her after the ATSV release it's truly unfair.
However, I have to be realistic, there are characters like Peni or even Peter B who should not be anything more than simple 'acquaintances' or 'partners' for Miles, since, with what they did, the term "Friend" It's too big for them.
In any case, Miles has the last word.
#miles morales#across the spiderverse#spiderverse#spiderman#spiderman: across the spiderverse#spider man across the spider verse#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spider verse#spider man#spiderman into the spiderverse#spider man into the spider verse#into the spiderverse#spideverse#into the spider verse#spider gwen#gwen stacy#ghostflower#gwen and miles#miles and gwen#gwen x miles#miles x gwen#peter parker#itsv#spiderman atsv#atsv#gwiles#beyond the spiderverse#btsv#atsv analysis#character analysis
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TKATB - Theories, wahoo.
This will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).
This is mostly based off things I've picked apart and/or kinda pieced together. If you feel I'm incorrect, or am missing something; hell, if you have any theories of your own, please share!
Anyway, the actual theories (apologies in advance if the rambling is...uh...too rambly).
- Okay, so considering the fact Jess was moved into the ‘Lower Class’ school, it means that she either failed a class or got a ‘violation’ (those are the conditions for being moved down, according to Hyugo). Brittney mentioned how ‘confident and loud’ Jess is when she’s angry, and Brittney apparently was popular at some point, but lost it at the party (it was mentioned a few times by Deryl) 2 years ago due to an incident. I think maybe Brittney was being bullied and Jess lost her shit, maybe even got physical? And that led to the duo being sent to the ‘Lower Class’ school.
- Subaru (Geo) and Hyugo are mentioned to be brothers, but Hyugo says “Subaru! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”, which could mean Geo (due to him being rich af) was moved down as well??? Hyugo and Geo are brothers but have different surnames, so I have a feeling (also because Geo is said to have daddy issues by Fantasia herself), that maybe Subaru Oogami and Hyugo Sugimoto aren’t related.
- Continuing that, Hyugo is the ‘traitor’ that the ‘Rough-Voiced Man’ was looking for in the cinema, so he’s obviously affilated with some dodgy people, and we know he hates injustice, so perhaps he is a mercenary or assassin of sorts (he did canonically kill somebody, with Sol witnessing it, check Fantasia’s twitter); and that could be why Geo avoids him? Hell, why does Subaru even go by Geo? Is it a codename, like Geo Sugimoto, is he hiding his real identity?
- With the person who threatened MC and their father with taking the farm, and the Marie Antoinette references, maybe the ‘handsome man’ is Crowe’s father? Hell, maybe even Eries, the fuchsia-eyed celebrity Jess loves. Along with that, the 'moral' I suppose of her biography was along the lines of: change is inevitable, either you deny it, or accept it. It'll happen anyway, what changes is your role and reaction to it (say you choose Crowe, Sol'll lose his marbles; if you choose Sol, Crowe might move on...unless he's also insane but I doubt it).
- Flowers seem to be important symbolism-wise, like the carnation and passionflower mentions made by Crowe (carnations can mean love for someone, or purity if white, or rejection/disappointment if yellow. Passionflowers mean renewal and hope I think). Brugmansia is also a poisonous flower, so it hints to Sol being a ‘poison’ that could kill us.
- I've seen this mentioned by @sweet-herbal-peach-tea (I'm sorry for tagging you anon, I wanted to credit you; also check their theories out as well anons), but I'll add it here anyway: With the prominence of Edgar Allan Poe's 'Annabel Lee', it could hint to Sol having loved us either in a past life...or...maybe we - the MC - look identical to a past lover of his, one who maybe passed; and he's deluded himself into thinking we are them?
Now for my favourite ones:
- The Hallow’s Ball, the event Deryl mentions on the groupchat, is on Friday. Assuming the game will be 7 days long and that Day 1 is Monday, that means Day 5 is crucial. It could be a catalyst, hell it may even decide what ending you get (Fantasia said there’ll probably be about 5, 1 true, 2 good, 2 bad; albeit that could change). Geo mentions he doesn’t want to go, neither does Brittney, but I think she will due to the fact Jess is. It may decide whether you choose Crowe or Sol, along with finalising relations with the other characters.
- Hyugo also mentions ‘taking care of Sol for him’, implying his absence…or even death. Hyugo pulls a gun on a person who seems to know him, maybe the boss of a crime syndicate? Hyugo hates injustice, so maybe the missing persons cases are being caused by people Hyugo knows, and he wants to stop them? I think if Hyugo vanishes (hell, it’s already known that he doesn’t always show up to class), it might be a way to get more info out of Geo.
That’s all I got off the top of my head lol, if it seems janky, I'm sorry. ;^
And uuh...yeah. This is my first Tumblr post so yeah. Love this Visual Novel and cannot wait to see more! (Especially of Geode lmfao).
#the kid at the back sol#geo subaru oogami#sol brugmansia#the kid at the back#tkatb sol#crowe ichabod#jericho crowe ichabod#hyugo sugimoto#tkatb hyugo#the kid at the back hyugo#geo oogami#tkatb vn#brittney claire#jessie sitrus#deryl helianthus#i love this visual novel so much#repost#reminder that geo is superior#geo(de)
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Hi! I've been checking your saiouma Cinema au and I love it, I'd love to hear more if it isn't much trouble 👉👈
Sure!! Despite what it looks like they have a lot more in common than they initially thought and more than Ouma is comfortable with admitting :3
Edit: rereading tags it appears i've ALREADY said this so I don't have the privilege of being too vague anymore, my bad!
To futher elaborate, Shuichi's relationship with his mother was. Strained at best and downright hostile at worst. She loved him and he loved her but for lack of better words she was.. sick. Eventually she would end up passing away with a lot of questions surrounding her death which left Shuichi to be moved into with his Uncle and Aunt, whom he enjoys the company of much more.
Kokichi and his mom live by themselves, She works but, not very well. It's a constant struggle to make ends meet, her forgetfulness doesn't help whatsoever. So, Kokichi has taken it upon himself to take care of her, even at her worst. Even if it's painful. Because he refuses to abandon her like his POS father did, not when she's given him so much.
#Mommy issues central they are#Drv3#danganronpa v3#cinema au#Oumasai#saiouma#saihara shuichi#shuichi saihara fanart#ouma kokichi#kokichi ouma fanart#danganronpa fanart#drv3 fanart#Dw shuichi lives with his aunt n uncle now#totally not.. because his mom is dead#for reasons unrelated to him#totally...#anyways ! ^_^#trans shuichi saihara#not mentioned or rlly shown but HEY it's real#tw: implied abuse#tw: implied child abuse
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i have to say, as cute as the percabeth heart to heart in the intro was (although upsetting that it didn’t happen in the zoo truck and percy doesn’t find out about how athenian reproduction works mid-labyrinth), r*ck is once again giving frederick FAR too much credit and diverting all the blame to annabeth’s stepmom. ‘my father treated me like a gift until he met a woman who saw me as a problem so i ran away’ like first off, she IS a gift, and secondly, only a father who never made his daughter his number one priority in the first place would be complacent in the emotional abuse inflicted by his wife. his full heart was never in it because, at the end of the day, a baby he didn’t consent to showed up in a golden cradle on his doorstep. both frederick and his wife are awful, neglectful parents and with the way annabeth does understand that her father loved her (in his own kind of detached, antithesis of sally jackson way) and was maybe decent enough pre-stepmom, i feel like the way the conversation is set up is to give percy the room to later on encourage annabeth to reconnect with her dad, however undeserved. it always rubbed me the wrong way how much her home situation was undermined at points in the book and how annabeth went back to being close with her dad by the post-hoo era despite years of neglect. BUT…
percy hearing all this and later understanding why annabeth places as much faith in her mother as she does, and not belittling her for it, was very sweet and shined a light on the kind, empathetic part of percy we’ve been missing thus far. annabeth HAS to believe that athena will protect her because who else does she have? percy, on the other hand, doesn’t believe for a single second poseidon will protect him because he knows his mother as his protector and when has poseidon ever protected her? and to see the distraught expression on annabeth’s face and the guilt on percy’s face when she realizes percy sending medusa’s head to olympus embarrassed athena enough to punish her 12 year old favored daughter to a likely death…i’m losing my mind!! athena abandoning annabeth despite her unwavering faith juxtaposed with poseidon showing up for percy despite his complete lack of it…insanity!! and the way percy was so ready to throw himself in harm’s way thinking ‘there’s no way my dad will help but idc i’m not letting annabeth die for me’ by tricking her and pushing her down the stairs without hesitation like the reason he initially picked her on the quest for…true cinema. annabeth being willing to do the same so percy and grover could escape despite knowing she’d lost her mother’s support…so true to her character. her teasing him about asking dumb questions and having friendly banter and him saying he’d rather fight by her side than his dad’s as a parallel to what annabeth will hopefully tell him on in the zoo truck and then annabeth warning him he’s about to call her a friend…i will say this episode was short as hell and the action sequences are still not as extensive or climactic as i hoped, but i believe it did more justice to percy and annabeth’s and the larger trio’s dynamic a lot more than past episodes.
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Often I feel very angry. It is hard to explain this even to my progressive Jewish parents – my Ashkenazi father, and my convert mother who frankly is more observant than I am – sometimes easier with fellow third generation millennials, depending on their milieu. My goyische husband, believe it or not, grasps it quite well because he grew up in Scarsdale. For the 18 years that we lived on East 70th our mezuzah was on the wrong side of the door. We never kept kosher. And yet I went to Hebrew school at Park Avenue Synagogue followed by Or Zarua which are both conservative congregations, a step up from reform and a step down from orthodox. We observed Shabbos, the high holidays; for a while I had a basic comprehension of the loshn-koydesh.
After I was bat mitzvahed I had no desire to see the inside of a temple again. This remained the case for many many years. You know what I learned about besides Torah? (Torah study, the ritual of Saturday morning services, was actually the good part.) Israel. At length. A country I felt no connection to whatsoever, that I had no desire to ever visit, that alienated me from my own Jewish identity as a diaspora New Yorker growing up in (what was, then, much more so!) a diverse neighborhood with kids from every ethnic and religious background imaginable.
You know what I learned NOTHING about? Yiddishkeyt. German expressionist cinema. Postwar American Jewish literature. Philosophy and psychoanalysis and dialectics and dialogics. Art, literature, theater, folklore. You would think that institutions theoretically devoted to the preservation of Jewish life in America would take a greater restorative interest in what the Nazis attempted to wipe from the historical record. You would be wrong.
The irony doesn’t end there. According to Dad my grandfather would not speak a word of German in the house – understandable after they've gassed your entire family to death – and he was resentful, for a little while, that on account of this he did not grow up bilingual. Why Martin refrained from speaking Yiddish around his American children had nothing to do with a rejection of Jewishness per se and everything to do with the guarantying of a more prosperous future. Metallurgy and manual labor sentenced him to a hard life and an early death. Despite chronic exhaustion and physical pain, he would bring my young father to public lectures at Yale on anything and everything related to the space program. He supported and cultivated his two sons’ every personal and intellectual interest. He ferried my grandmother to and from her performances along the Borscht Belt circuit, which back then was still a thriving scene. He was a state-raised orphan who lost everything and nevertheless managed to give everything. When she grew too old and infirm to do so herself any longer, he even cared for the cranky old bitch of an aunt who turned him away when he first washed up alone as a teenager on a totally foreign shore. I have tears in my eyes just typing this.
It is my parents and grandparents whose memory I hold sacred, the culture they swallowed or sacrificed in the hope of a new beginning – not for themselves, but for their loved ones. That a certain continuity could be transmitted and traced despite all efforts to either disguise or remake it, that there is an inextinguishable spark of recognition in language and expression and sensibility, is miraculous. It defies the nation state. And it will outlive the nation state.
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2023 poetry rec list
technically a day late but who cares! i don't. it's gonna be a long one this year too despite not having read or written as much poetry as of late; i'm putting my overall fifteen favorite + poetry book recs up here and the rest below a cut to spare your dashboards :)
2022
2021
books:
calling a wolf a wolf (kaveh akbar)
cinema of the present (lisa robertson)
dictee (theresa hak kyung cha)
pilgrim bell (kaveh akbar)
prelude to bruise (saeed jones)
the crown ain't worth much (hanif abdurraqib)
top 15:
abecedarian requiring further examination of anglikan seraphym subjugation of a wild indian reservation (natalie diaz)
about eight minutes of light (robert king)
at luca signorelli's resurrection of the body (jorie graham)
ginen the micronesian kingfisher [i sihek] (craig santos perez)
gods, gods, powers, lord, universe-- (chen chen)
kupu rere kē (alice te punga somerville)
look (solmaz sharif)
ode to the 9,000 year old woman (@/goodbyevitamin)
one art (elizabeth bishop)
petitioning the patron saint of childbirth (danielle boodoo-fortuné)
so mexicans are taking jobs from americans (jimmy santiago baca)
the death loop (jon lovett)
the difficult miracle of black poetry in america: something like a sonnet for phillis wheatley (june jordan)
the madwoman as rasta medusa (shara mccallum)
vocabulary (safia elhillo)
& the gun echoed for centuries; interlude with drug of course; & the light devours us all (yasmin belkhyr)
a brother named gethsemane (natalie diaz)
a map to the next world (joy harjo)
between autumn equinox and winter solstice, today (emily jungmin yoon)
cherish this ecstasy (david james duncan)
coffins (derick thomson)
conflict resolution for holy beings (joy harjo)
failing and flying (jack gilbert)
ginen tidelands [latte stone park] [hagåtña, guåhan] (craig santos perez)
how to be a dog (andrew kane)
i love you to the moon & (chen chen)
i'm sorry birds (@/quezify)
insomnia and the seven steps to grace (joy harjo)
i was sleeping where the black oaks move (louise erdrich)
i watch her eat the apple (natalie diaz)
moth wings and other things (@/grendel-menz)
my father (ollie schminkey)
my soldier, my stranger (scherezade siobhan)
new year's day (joan tierney)
october (louise glück)
praise song for oceania (craig santos perez)
praise the rain (joy harjo)
real estate (richard siken)
sharing a cigarette with joan of arc (dante emile)
song of the anti-sisyphus (chen chen)
table (edip cansever, transl. richard tillinghast)
tear it down (jack gilbert)
temporary job (minnie bruce pratt)
the blue dress (saeed jones)
the lesson of the moth (don marquis)
the universe, as in one last song for the lonely hearts (michelle hulan)
throwing children (ross gay)
untitled (joan tierney)
voices (naomi shihab nye)
when i die i want your hands on my eyes (pablo neruda)
why i am not coming in to work today (jess zimmerman)
wolf moon (nina maclaughlin)
yes, it was the mountain echo (william wordsworth)
#2023#last post of the 2023 tag :)#here's to another year of gay poetry#to be is to be backlit#poems#poetry#croidhe#poetry recs#poetry rec list#writing
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Is It Really That Bad?
Disney and Dreamworks have been locked in combat since day one, and honestly, can you blame them? The Katzenberg/Eisner feud is pretty legendary, with both men taking potshots at each other in films, and the drama behind stuff like A Bug’s Life and Antz has been done to death. The thing is, in the early years of Dreamworks, it was pretty clear that no matter how hard they tried, Disney was the one who was taking the Ws when it came to the cinemas. Stuff like Sinbad and The Road to El Dorado were flopping pretty hard, and while The Prince of Egypt was a success, the failure of the former two ended Dreamoworks’s hopes of ever competing with Disney in the 2D animated market. What’s a studio to do in a situation like that? Well, someBODY ONCE TOLD ME...
Shrek didn’t just solidify Dreamworks as a contender, that movie changed the course of animation in the 2000s all on its own. With its snarky humor, pop culture references, awesome pop soundtrack as opposed to musical numbers, and celebrity cast, Shrek codified many trends for animation going forward—for better and for worse. But whatever impact the film had pales in comparison to one simple, unignorable fact: This movie came out on top over Disney. It won the first ever Academy Award for Best Animated Picture, and considering how long Disney was in that game that must have really fucking stung. While Disney spent the early 2000s floundering and releasing flops that would only become cult classics later, Dreamworks was riding that green wave Shrek produced all the way to the bank. What’s a studio to do in a situation like that? Well, someBODY ONCE…
Oh no.
Chicken Little was Disney’s blatant attempt at making their own Shrek (with blackjack! And hookers!), but to say that things didn’t pan out well for Disney there is a vast understatement. Michael Eisner made sure to meddle as much as possible, turning a more straightforward adaptation of the fairy tale into a snarky, self-deprecating comedy about baseball and aliens, which certainly is a choice. This choice had some dire consequences; while not a bomb by any means, the film ruined the already-struggling career of The Emperor’s New Groove director Mark Dindal, producer Randy Fullmer left Disney with Dindal and went into making guitars, and ultimately Eisner himself became a victim of the film as well, with it being the final blow to his tenure at Disney after a decade of failed investments. Eisner ended up passing the torch to Bob Iger, who turned out to be a better leader than Eisner who never did or said anything quite as stupid!
Audience reaction to the movie has always been pretty mixed, to say the least. Reviewers on YouTube such as Schafrillas, Doug Walker, and Mr. Enter have used the film as their punching bag at various points, with the latter in particular helping shape the image of Buck Cluck as Disney’s most vile father figure. Audiences these days aren’t particularly receptive to it either, with most people considering it Disney’s absolute worst film, though there are nostalgic viewers with a soft spot for it. I first watched the film myself a few years back, and I was thoroughly disgusted and unimpressed by what I saw; for the longest time, I had it higher than Doogal on my list of the worst films ever. Fucking Doogal! Can a film really be that bad?!
Well, I decided to give it a second chance and find out if maybe my perception was just colored by all the negative reviews. Is Chicken Little really that bad, or is this just a so-so Shrek ripoff that people overreacted to?
THE GOOD
Most of the characters in this movie are actually decent, even if they’re a little cringe. Chicken Little himself is a likable dork, which only makes all the suffering and setbacks he goes through that much harder to watch; I think they made him too likable, y’know? His friend group is pretty solid as well, with Abby being an okay love interest, Runt being a nice guy (or maybe I should say Nice Guy considering what he does with a bimbofied Foxy Loxy at the end), and Fish Out of Water being a cute “lol so random XD” character. They aren’t the best thing ever, but they’re all pretty decent. I can see why Zach Braff likes voicing the title character so much, and it is cool he got to be in the best Kingdom Hearts game, so that’s something!
Though of, course none of them hold a candle to the absolute Chad that is Morkubine Porcupine, a character so fucking cool that he refuses to give this movie the dignity of more than three single words out of his mouth. If he had more dialogue, the whole movie might collapse under the sheer power of his voice. He’s like Black Bolt, except a porcupine, and in a marginally better piece of Disney media.
There’s a great sequence at the end of the movie that has a Pee-wee’s Big Adventure-esque film within the film about Chicken Little’s exploits… except he’s a ridiculously buff rooster voiced by Adam West in a film that looks like an insane version of Star Fox from the brief clips we see of it. Runt is in there as a hardcore, ugly warthog and Abby is an overly-sexualized space bimbo, but I’m not even particularly bothered by the fact they gave the girl chicken breasts because Adam West’s chicken breasts are so much more massive.
The entire scene, as brief as it is, is delightful thanks to West being West, and it honestly makes you wish that the whole movie was just a ridiculous space battle adventure… And everyone’s wish was granted when they released a pretty good video game based on this silly concept!
Of course, as is typical of any Disney movie, the best part is without a doubt the villain: Buck Cluck, Chicken Little’s own father.
In his youth, he was a strapping sports star, and because of this he feels a deep sense of shame at his son’s wild antics and is completely unable to relate to him. He constantly puts him down in front of others to try and salvage his own reputation, throwing him under the bus at every opportunity and refusing to support him. And even after Chicken Little pushes himself to the limit and becomes a baseball star all so he can earn even the slightest smidgen of his father’s respect, Buck is quick to cast him aside once more all so that he can try and keep the dignity among the townsfolk he mooched off of his son’s victory. Buck Cluck is the proto-Mother Gothel, a distant and absent parent for the ages, and one of the most despicable foes the studio has ever produced. Hell, I might even go as far as to say he’s one of the greatest villains of all ti-
Wait, hold on. I’m being informed that Buck… isn’t intentionally a villain? He’s supposed to be… sympathetic…?
THE BAD
I’VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT! BUCK “THE CUCK” CLUCK’S A BITCH-ASS MOTHERFUCKER!
Ok, ok, let’s be serious for a second. I’m gonna get a bit controversial here, but Buck Cluck isn’t nearly as evil as people make him out to be.
Let me explain: While the film’s narrative completely and utterly fails to make his redemption feel earned at all, it’s not like he was ever really intentionally or even physically abusive like Frollo, Gothel, or Lady Tremaine were. Buck Cluck has a very real problem a parent can have, in that he has a hard time relating to his son while being a single parent that is likely still dealing with the loss of his wife. The issue is the movie doesn’t bother trying to flesh him or his feelings out and tries its damndest to make him look like a good guy all while he emotionally neglects his child.
All this being said, his vocal performance from The Princess Diaries director Garry Marshall is actually pretty great, he gets a few good jokes here and there, and it’s actually really endearingly goofy when he overcompensates with loving his son in the third act. While I’m never going to stop treating the character like he’s Chicken Hitler, I want it to be clear that my jabs at him are very much in the same vein as someone like Huey Emmerich. The difference, of course, is that Huey is an intentional case of making a character you love to hate, while Buck is accidental. And that’s why this segment is here, in “The Bad” part of the review: The movie failed this man so bad that he is put alongside characters like Shou Tucker, Ragyo Kiryuin, and Fire Lord Ozai in animated parent rankings. How do you fuck up that badly? Mainly by deleting the scenes where he actually gets development or characterization beyond being a lousy parent, that’s how!
These writing issues don’t just affect Buck, though; literally the entire movie is as messy as that Kentucky fried bastard’s characterization. The main issue is with the story itself. Now, when you have a movie called Chicken Little, you kind of expect an adaptation of the fable of the same name. And since this is Disney, you wouldn’t be stupid to assume that’s what they’d do, considering adapting fables, myths, and fairy tales is basically their bread and butter. But that is decidedly not what they did here; instead, they decided to make Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius by way of Shrek, because movies like that were popular at the time, and what we’re left with is a film populated by mean-spirited jerkasses who do nothing but dump on our likable main character as he takes part in a story to win the love of his dad via baseball that suddenly, out of completely nowhere, turns into an alien invasion movie about halfway through. Absolutely none of these elements work well together, and the film comes off felling like it was stitched together from unrelated scripts and turned into an unholy Frankenstein of bad ideas.
Not helping helping the disjointed story are the desperate attempts to seem cool. I like Morkubine Porcupine, he’s one of the better gags in the film, but he is so plainly a desperate attempt at creating an ensemble darkhorse that it hurts (the fact it actually worked in spite of this is nothing short of miraculous). The humor is very much aping Shrek, with lots of snarky humor and mean-spirited characters which ends up not working because it’s too cruel, and even ignoring that the pop culture references (a staple of Dreamworks at the time) just all come out of nowhere. Why is the fish reenacting King Kong? Why are these animals watching Raiders of the Lost Ark, and why is Indy still a human? Why did Disney think referencing the lemming suicide myth was a good idea when they literally perpetuated that myth by driving lemmings off a cliff for a movie?
Then there’s the animation. It is so blatantly obvious that this is Disney’s first time making a fully computer animated movie without Pixar’s help. A lot of characters look really unpolished, and even worse is that a lot of the characters are extremely overanimated. If you wanna see what I mean, watch Abby at the end of the dodgeball scene when she’s talking to Chicken Little. She just never fucking stops moving! Once you notice it, it becomes really distracting.
But by far the worst thing this movie does is the constant needle drops. This movie would make The Super Mario Bros. Movie blush with its overuse of licensed music, and it sure feels like Suicide Squad took notes from this because they cram so many tracks in here it’s not even funny. Sometimes they even just have thew characters sing them because… who fucking knows. Barenaked Ladies gets a pretty fat W with their song “One Little Slip” playing over our introduction to Chicken Little, but after that we either get the most obvious songs possible for any given seen (“It’s the End of the World as We Know It” plays over the alien invasion at the end, because of course it does) to “what the actual fuck is this doing here in the movie” (“Wannabe” by the Spice Girls is sung by Runt and Abby during a karaoke session, proving that canceling the Spice World review was not enough to save me from this band).
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IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?
Alright guys, here comes my hottest take ever: Chicken Little… isn’t that bad.
Now, don’t get me wrong! This movie is still not really good at all. It’s disjointed, mean-spirited, confused, and stuffed to the brim with the tropes and trappings of every bad animated movie of the 2000s. But all of that is also what helps make this so genuinely fascinating! When Dreamworks did stuff like this, it was whatever, that studio is a rising contender in the animation game… but this is Disney! This is THE animation studio, the biggest around, and they’re making every single mistake possible because they want to try and beat Dreamworks at their own game, and they are failing at it! It’s honestly so funny that they tried to make their own version of Shrek without any sort of understanding of what made Shrek work.
But even beyond that, even though this movie is bad, it’s not really worse than Shark Tale is, and that is a premier so bad it’s good film. Really, this movie is the opposite of that film in many ways. Where that film had a world that was too overly nice and propped up the shittiest main character animated at the time, this movie has an insanely cruel world where the sweet, charming, heavily traumatized child is incessantly beaten down and belittled to the point you half expect him to try and dive headfirst into a deep fryer; where that film had a single generic plot that was at least remarkably consistent, this film has two separate plots that don’t go together at all and just end up making both halves of the film feel stupid and pointless; and where in that film Oscar is desperately seeking love from his peers due to his sheer selfishness, Chicken Little just wants the love and respect of his father. Pile on that the mountain of similarities, from the overuse of lame pop culture references for the sake of pop culture references gags to the bland love interests, and you have the Awesomely Bad Animation Double Feature of your dreams.
So yeah, I think the rating it has is about what it deserves. This is easily one of Disney’s weakest entries for sure, but it’s not without its moments and it has some amusing jokes, charming characters, and Adam West as a buff space chicken. If you go in with lowered expectations, you might be amused, but honestly I get why this film is so absolutely despised. It really isn’t great at all, and is firmly in the “so bad it’s good” category. You can’t really expect much more from a movie that presents a character whose biggest crime was just being an asshole getting their personality overwritten with a girly-girl one that the comic relief fat guy insists is perfect as a hilarious joke and then leads into a dance party ending where the whole cast sings Elton John.
...Or you could expect more if it weren’t for that son of a bitch Buck Cluck. Fuck that guy.
#Is it really that bad#Chicken Little#Disney#review#movie review#Zach Braff#animation#animated movie#Disney animation
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Yi Yi by Edward Yang
Kaili Peng (wife of Yang) + Haden Guest, Sean Yang (son)
This film has been on my watchlist for ages. When I saw the Harvard Film Archive was doing an Edward Yang retrospective, I waited to watch a glorious 35 mm print. The film was introduced by Yang's wife, pianist Kaili Peng, and son, Sean Yang. Sean spoke of his father's early death, about only getting to know his dad through his films. After the screening Kaili describe Yi Yi as a "prelude to his own passing," his last "love letter to the world." She described Yang as a moody and passionate person, prone to bouts of anger. Yet while making Yi Yi, he was always in a good mood--that "sweetness" (her word) is captured in the tone of the film.
Why is it that the films of the Taiwan New Cinema + Second New Wave (especially Tsai Ming-liang) capture urban alienation so powerfully? What is the root of this melancholia? You'd think Taipei was the loneliest place in the world. I don't know. Maybe it is. I've never been, even though my father immigrated from Taiwan and I've long wanted to go there to scatter my grandfather's ashes.
Yi Yi contains sadness and levity in equal measure. In that sense it is true to life. The adult characters are haunted by their disappointments. Min-Min is plagued by a lack of meaning she tries to counter with Buddhist retreats. NJ is troubled by the counterfactuals of his life—the career he did not pursue, the great love he abandoned, who he encounters 30 years later. The children repeat the disappointments of their parents, continuing the cycle, ad infinitum. Strange, the night before watching Yi Yi, I watched Abbas Kiarostami's Where Is the Friend's House?. Both films stage an encounter between a child and an elderly person as a way to meditate on life and time. In both films there is affinity between the child and old person, who exist on the outer edges of the life cycle. Yes, you can't help but feel, watching Yi Yi, that the little boy Yang-Yang is an old soul (see the films final lines). Yang-Yang is the film's comic relief. I love what that boy sees—the photographs he takes of the backs of people's heads, how I dreamed them (see the photos that open my Sunflower book).
Ting-Ting, too, is beautiful in her loneliness. Her guilt, her insomnia. She dreams of relief: "Now that you've forgiven me, I can sleep."
How am I supposed to address the dying? Every soliloquy to the comatose grandma is the character confronting themselves. NJ mumbles that speaking to someone in a coma is like praying. Do they hear you? Are your words sincere?
The way the film is shot, too, adds to the feeling that the characters are self-enclosed. Much of the action takes place in cramped interiors. The camera is often placed outside the building or train, just beyond the windows, giving you the feeling the they are ensheathed by glass. The window becomes a nexus between the interior and exterior: in the glass we can see what is happening outside at the same time we are observing the facial expressions of the characters. The headlights of the nighttime traffic dance on a woman's face. This is truly the hand of a director with a powerful vision.
Kaili said, after the screening, that Edward's autobiography is manifest in many of the characters. Edward was turned down from piano lessons, as was NJ. The music only meant something to him after the first time he fell in love.
What can I say. It's a beautiful film. Watch it.
[Read more film reviews on my Letterboxd.]
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Having just come back from seeing Thor: Love and Thunder for the second time (once in IMAX and once at my local independent cinema) I’m now ready to mercilessly deconstruct the top five dumbest criticisms of it that I’ve seen floating around so far...
1. It’s too short - Being the first Marvel film I’ve seen in ages to be under 2 hours, I can’t believe the amount of people citing this as a reason they didn’t like it. Not everyone wants to spend hour after hour fossilizing through fight-scenes which could have been significantly shorter and still good. Keeping the film to a reasonable length meant I didn’t have to hire a dog-sitter/be racked with guilt about leaving my 20-month-old samoyed by herself all evening.
2. There are too many jokes - Before I’d even seen it, I saw someone claiming it was like 80% jokes and only 20% plot and my response was “So?” I can now confirm it’s more of a 50/50 split at least, and it’s actually, genuinely funny. The entire cinema was in stitches both times for at least half the film. I’m so sorry if you watched the Nolan Batman films when you were like twelve and decided all superhero films had to be dark and edgy, but some of us would take joyful himbo Thor over intense brooding Thor any day of the week.
3. The scene with Heimdall’s kid was somehow transphobic - This is by far the dumbest one, because there is nothing about it which suggests it’s a dig at self-IDing trans kids. Heimdall’s son decides he wants a more earth-sounding name, so he wants to be called Axel. Thor is quite understandably miffed and wants to keep calling his dead friend’s kid the name his father gave him to honor his memory, but eventually relents. There is no evidence what-so-ever that Axel was afab, or that it’s a gender thing, it’s a freakin’ Guns n’ Roses reference, you morons.
4. Ragnarok was better and/or Taika was somehow the wrong choice of director - Actually, this is the dumbest one, because it seems to be echoed consistently by people who A) Didn’t like Ragnarok either B) Haven’t actually seen it C) Have never watched a Taika Waititi film that wasn’t in the marvel canon or D) All of the above. You’re entitled to your opinion, but if it’s based on any of the premises above, you’re wrong, and I’d like to counter it by saying I don’t ever want to watch another Thor film that wasn’t directed by Taika Waititi. Though I really hope Loki is in the next one.
5. Some nonsense about Jane Foster’s character arc, idk - I‘ve seen people claiming Natalie Portman must have been disappointed with her role, because, of course, I’m sure she preferred it when she was purely there as a love-interest or spent half the film in a frickin’ coma. I’ve seen people claim she didn’t look sick enough (a criticism that was never made of Peter Quill’s mother in the first GotG film, despite her being literally on death’s door) and while it’s a valid point, Hollywood films rarely allow women to look anything below fully made up and gorgeous with a few dark circles under the eyes, so what were you expecting? Weird hill to die on I guess.
#thor love and thunder#tlt#marvel#thor love and thunder spoilers#taika waititi#natalie portman#chris hemsworth
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SFW Headcanons—Donny Donowitz | Inglourious Basterds
Link to my IB Masterlist
Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)
PET NAMES. Doll, Baby, Sweetums, Honey, you name it. I don’t think you’ve ever heard him say your government name since y’all got together. Even when you’re arguing with him and he gets frustrated he will still call you by a pet name. The only time your name is ever spoken is if it’s a life and death situation where you’re hurt and he’s loosing his mind.
This man will protect you with his life. Don’t ever think you’ll go through something alone or not have back up. Before y’all were an item, you were each other’s wingman. Of the Basterds Donny took to you quickly and he’ll be dammed if you got injured.
Donny loves to cuddle—simple as that. Holding you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your neck and feeling the warmth radiate off you brings him joy. Especially with being in high stress situations on the war front, he’ll pass an opportunity of getting to relax with you. “Donny, I need to pee.” “Just hold it for a few more minutes. Please, doll?”
Back home in the states, Donny spoils you relentlessly. He is a romantic at heart. You two run the Barber shop together with his brothers after his father retired and Donny puts his portion of profits into savings to be able to buy you nice things. Sometimes he’ll surprise you with Sox tickets, a nice dinner, or going to the cinema. He just loves spending time with you and he does that by taking you out anytime he can.
In the mornings, you two usually sit out on the porch with a cup of coffee—which tasted like heaven compared to the watery shit Aldo used to make—and talk about the future. The past is left behind with neither of you wanted to discuss the horrors of war, instead you two just want to move forward. During the day you work at the Barber shop before coming home in the evening to make dinner together. Afterwards you both clean up to settle on the couch with a glass of wine or whiskey and listen to the radio or dance to the gentle tune of Frank Sinatra records.
I can see you two adopting animals together or taking in the neighborhood strays. Whether it be dogs or cats, eventually you two have a full house where you basically take in more than you bargained for. “Not another one, honey—don’t you see we’re drowning in cat hair and the yard is full of dog shit?” “But this one is just a baby, Donny!”
After the war you two keep in touch with the Basterds. A lot of them were on the east coast or not too far so at least twice a year you guys make plans to visit them. Usually it’s around the holidays or to celebrate big announcements. Aldo always writes letters, Wicki and Hugo send postcards, and sometimes Smitty and Omar will call you on the landline. “They reaccepted me into NYU! I’m starting this spring.” “That’s amazing, Uti! We’ll have to take a trip out there to celebrate!”
Expect Donny to propose shortly after y’all return to the States. He already knew he wanted to marry you shortly after becoming official, but considering you guys went through hell and needed to re-assimilate into society, he figured it was best to wait. So in the meantime he saved up every penny to get you the best ring that would have all the dames and studs envious. Then when the moment came he got down on one knee in a spot that meant something to the both of you and simply says, “baby doll, you are my world. You’re my past and present, now i want you to be my future. Would you do this Basterd the honor of marrying him?”
When y’all argue the aftermath usually lasts no longer than an hour to allow you both to cool off. Honestly Donny hates it when you argue so he tries to make it up quickly. And he’ll never let you go to sleep angry at him—you both will sit down at the table and talk before sleeping to make sure you guys are okay.
You two are well beloved in your neighborhood. The kids love coming over to throw baseballs with Donny, the man joining in on a game when they beg him to play. You offer tutoring lessons to help them in school and always have cookies with lemonade prepared. All the parents are like, “you two see our kids more than us! How do you not lose your heads watching all of them when they’re over?” “We just have a magic touch.”
#donny donowitz headcanon#donny donowitz x reader#donny donowitz imagine#donny donowitz x y/n#donny donowitz#inglourious basterds headcanons#inglorious basterds fanfiction#inglorious basterds imagine#inglourious basterds
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For @lastfire427, who requested something special. Found here. Chapter 1/?
Do you think if she knew how easy it would have been to bring Sam home, that it was as simple as her getting hurt, that she would have done something drastic?
Tara's 18 and lying on her bed with a dimming laptop perched on her legs. Amber, freshly 17, is pacing around Tara's room, ranting – once again – about Stab. She doesn't think she's ever heard anyone complain about something they claim to love with so much vitriol as her best friend does. It got pretty old after the first few times… years ago, and Tara’s long since learned to tune it out.
Her mind drifts instead to her sister, as usual. Ok, so Tara's consistently repetitive in her thoughts too, but at least she has the acuity not to bore everyone with it constantly. Amber likes to think she’s so smart, so clever. She’s always trying to appear calm and collected and better than everyone else around her. (Sam never had to try so hard, it was effortless for her.) But here she is, raving about some stupid movie and calling it ‘the death of cinema.’ Secretly, Tara agrees, although she’s sure their reasons differ greatly.
It's been around four years since Tara last saw her sister, last spoke to her. She thought she’d be back by now. She’d promised. She’s been waiting and waiting and waiting. How much longer does she have to wait? Tara’s tired of it. She’d ask Sam herself if the bitch hadn’t blocked her the moment she skipped town. “I’ll always be there for you,” my ass.
Sam had promised to come back for her. She’d whispered it to Tara’s sleeping – or so she thought – body and kissed her on the cheek, and vanished like a ghost. Tara shouldn’t be surprised; it runs in her blood after all. Being a ghost. Tara’s tired of ghosts too, haunting her home, this town, her own mind. She wants to get out of here, she wants her sister.
“Are you even listening to me, Tara?”
Amber’s voice cuts through the fog she had settled in, demanding her attention. Amber likes to have attention. “Of course,” she responds, demurely. She especially likes to have Tara’s attention. She resists the urge to roll her eyes as Amber flashes her a smug grin that she thinks is charming.
She should borrow someone’s phone and call her. Remind Sam that she has a little sister, responsibilities, promises to keep. Maybe she just forgot? Mother’s like that, forgetting she has children. Out of sight out of mind. And Sam’s always been a lot like their mother. Too much like their mother. If she’s still using as much as she was when she left, it’s not so outlandish to believe. Time moves differently when you’re high… or so she’s heard.
Amber joked once that Sam was probably dead in a ditch somewhere. Tara refused to acknowledge her for a month. It had been a hard lonely month, but by the end of it, Amber had been begging for her forgiveness, and she’d ceased talking – bitching – about Sam all the time as well, so it had been worth it in the end. Tara wonders if all these years away are worth it to Sam. She wonders if being reunited will wash away all the years and memories her sister should have been there for, or if it would be bitter, if she’d discover that the memory of her sister was nothing more than a blurry shape behind rose-tinted glasses, that she was just another mother, another father, just another person who couldn’t love Tara. Another disappointment.
Much to Tara’s disappointment, Amber was still going on about Stab.
Tara sighs, closing the laptop and moving it onto the sideboard. “Sounds like you just want them to remake the first movie again,” she jokes, feigning interest. If she entertains it, maybe it’ll be over sooner.
Amber swivels to stare at her incredulously. “You can’t just remake the first movie, Tara! It’s based on a true story! Like, hello! Woodsboro history 101!” Tara just shrugs back at her, already regretting speaking.
As always, Amber is free to do what Tara is forced to hold back, and rolls her eyes. Unfortunately, she then goes on to give Tara an extensive summary of the events of Woodsboro 1996 (and the genius of the first movie), as if Tara wasn’t already so painfully aware.
The reminder of Sam’s father makes her chest ache. Her continued absence is like an open wound that just won’t heal. Her ribs are twisted, skin torn open to reveal a mutilated heart. Everyone keeps reaching inside the cavern to prod and poke at it, as if they have any right.
Amber’s the worst offender.
There’s a part of her that delights in Tara’s pain, she thinks; that relishes the opportunity to leave a mark on her that Sam can’t touch. If she stitches her chest closed, if she erases the evidence of Sam’s departure, then it can be like she was never there at all. She’ll have won the weird little pissing contest the two of them would engage in.
It’s a pointless endeavour. If she wants to leave a mark on Tara, she’ll have better luck actually stabbing her. Then again, Amber would probably like that, given the enthusiastic recounting of every death in the movie and how they compare to police reports from the real attacks.
Tara drowns her out again as she begins to talk about some artist she met on Reddit who’s bringing their deaths to life or some shit, and thinks about the last stabbings in 2011 instead. The way Sam had held her close and refused to let her out of her sight. How Sam had kept her in her room, taught her where to hide; in case of emergencies, she’d told her. The knife taped underneath her desk, the bed, in her wardrobe. Sam had known then, about her father, about what it all meant, although Tara hadn’t learnt that just quite yet.
She’d been so terrified of Tara getting hurt, of her becoming another victim to the Ghostface scourge. She wonders if she would still care. Would she still rush home to hide Tara away? Would she still hold her tight with desperation to keep her safe?
Does Sam Carpenter even remember who she is?
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Things I noticed watching Bullet Train a second time at home so my family could see the movie too (spoilers):
Tangerine tells lemon to wear a vest to protect his chest and lemon says it gives people a false security cause you can still get shot in the neck; lemon gets shot in the chest and lives BUT LATER tangerine gets shot in the neck and dies
The first time I watched it my heart was shredded by Dominic Lewis’ cover of bubbles that plays when lemon finds tangerine’s “corpse” (I’m DL’s #1 Spotify listener, he also worked on OSTs for violent night and spirited this year) but the song also plays when the brothers are counting their kills in its original form and in a rock cover when they slow-no walk to find the thief
Ladybug has bad luck but not only does little prince constantly talk about good luck but her father does too, seeing how he keeps forcing and winning Russian roulette on his enemies
Ladybug has long hair and a beard, looks homeless and is forced to face all the misfortunes of the world so that others can rest in peace, and for once it’s nice to see a Jesus allegory that isn’t shoved in our faces by the movie
The elder and the white death both worked under the same boss, both lost their wives, both have two descendants one of which is affiliated with crime and another which is kidnapped to get to their parent; the prior spent most of the movie in the same scenes
“He shot my brother” “you shot my son” both of these where also caused by little prince manipulating the shooter into thinking they’re the victim
The nurse that kills the child’s assassin is in the background of every shot showing the assassin
Almost no one in the movie is known by their real names but by symbolic nicknames: even agent carver alludes to an assassin with butcher-like instincts
In the bottle flashback you can see lemon and tangerine changing clothes from their countdown scene to the ones they wear on the bullet train
First ladybug pretends to be tangerine’s twin and later lemon taunts him as not being a replacement to his brother
Lemon says Logan Lerman’s character looks like a “Percy” alluding to his famous PJO role
The wolf’s envelope is shown earlier when ladybug searches his coat for a gun and has to exes to represent cartoon dead eyes and two suspects that were at the wedding undercover: ladybug and hornet. The contrast between these two is shown by how one kills the conductor to steal their clothing whilst the other pays bisexual icon Channing Tatum to exchange clothes
I might be dumb but I realized that the Wild West stand off between hornet and ladybug was also her waiting to see if he succumbs to the poison in thirty seconds
Lemon tells an old lady she is fucking excused and ladybug later tells the same lady to eat a bag of dicks
Tangerine is at first suspicious of little prince because he knows all the seats were sold out by the white death but that knowledge dies with him
I still don’t know how the elder psychically knows his son is fine can someone please tell me if they know
I swear this is my favorite movie after EEAAO there’s so much rich detail even it has to remind the audiences by re-showing earlier scenes it literally made me forgive Brad Pitt for straight washing Troy I watched it in cinemas just cause I didn’t feel like waiting for the movie I went to watch without planning it and I hope this artistic masterpiece is never forgotten in the corridors of cinema history if there’s anything more you can think off feel free to add your thoughts
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Bengiyo Queer Cinema Syllabus
For those who are not aware, I have decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s Queer Cinema Syllabus and have officially started Unit 3: Faith and Religion. The films in Unit 3 are: But I’m a Cheerleader (2000), Prayers for Bobby (2009), Latter Days (2003), Blackbird (2014), The Wise Kids (2011), Henry Gamble’s Birthday Party (2015)
Today I will be writing about
Prayers for Bobby (2009) dir. Russel Mulcahy
[Run Time: 1:30 , Available on: Hulu or Lifetime with memberships (i thought I saw Hulu in a list of companies to boycott because #zionist but it is the internet and I tried to research and could not find anything…either way I watched it like someone who sails the high seas) , Language: English]
Content Warning: suicide
ADDITIONAL WARNING, THIS IS BASED ON A TRUE STORY
Summary: True story of Mary Griffith, gay rights crusader, whose teenage son committed suicide due to her religious intolerance. Based on the book of the same title by Leroy Aarons.
Cast:
* Sigourney Weaver as Mary Griffith, religious homophobe turned gay rights activist after the death of her son
* Ryan Kelley as Bobby Griffith (this actor was the voice of Ben Tennyson in Ben 10!)
* Scott Bailey as David, Bobby’s boyfriend
* Dan Butler as The Rev. Whitsell, reverend for a Methodist Church Bobby starting attending because the church was safe for gays.
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I have a feeling that this reflection may get more personal than usual. It was strange watching this movie and seeing Bobby’s experiences with his family and finding points of familiarity in my experience with my own, despite the fact that I did not grow up religious.
And to be clear here, when I came out, I did not get sent to conversion therapy, I was not subjected to 90% of what Bobby went through in his household but, I recognize myself in him. Bobby’s sister calls him the family favorite, Bobby’s sister calls him perfect. Bobby knows the pressure and the isolation that comes from being seen that way and knowing you are anything but. It always feels strange to complain about being the known favorite, but the slight hint of bitterness from family that you love feels fucking terrible, especially because you have no say in how people see you. A fall from the pedestal is scary, the scrutiny you are under is intense.
Bobby has The Knowing, I did not. I didn’t realize or at least admit that I was queer until I was 22, Bobby is still in high school, Bobby is hearing his grandmother say queers should be lined up and shot. I was hearing my uncle say the same. I was seeing my father literally recoil and cover his eyes the first time he saw gay sex on screen. I knew who his friends were, and what their beliefs are, and there was never room for me to ever entertain the question.
Bobby’s family finds out, in ways Bobby has no control over. My mother forced a confession from me about my gender identity. Bobby’s father tells him he probably hasn’t met the right girl yet, when his father hears he’s gay. My mother told me I probably hadn’t found the right boy yet after she found out I was bi.
Bobby’s family is desperate to save his soul from hell, they put him through so many things, when he moves to Portland, his mother hands him a new Bible. I knew someone who learned that I was queer, and came back with a copy of their holy book.
At the beginning of the film, Bobby is established to have a good, strong, and loving bond with his mother. As a kid I did too. Bobby’s family tells him that they love him, they say it all the time, and then they learn he’s queer, and they still tell him that they love but they do not acknowledge or accept his identity, they do not listen to him when he tries to share his feelings, his parents never grow. My mom has not used the right pronouns for me once since she made me come out to her two years ago, despite several conversations with me, and with a friend of hers who has a nonbinary child.
All of which to say I know what Bobby is feeling when his parents say they love him, but make no action to change it. I feel within my soul the resignation when his cousin tells him “you all seemed so close” and when he replies “well, that’s over with”. Bobby’s mother told him she would not have a gay son, Bobby knew she meant it. My father told me once that he could live perfectly happily without me, and I knew he meant it. I see echos in Bobby.
But I was not raised religious, I do not believe in heaven or in hell, and as a result, I do not know what it is to be told, to grow up with The Knowing, hearing that no matter what, no matter who you are, or how much good you do, you are doomed to suffer for all eternity for something that you cannot change. I do not know what it is to have a fear of hellfire held over you for all your life.
I do not know, and cannot understand what it must feel like to know that your mother believes so adamantly that she can ‘heal’ you, absolve you of this sin, and understand that all the harm she is doing to you, comes from a corrupted place of love. When Bobby dies, does he think his mother loves him?
“I know my mom means well, but I don’t know if she’ll ever accept me,” Bobby tells his boyfriend, and David replies “Just don’t stop trying”. I don’t know what David went through, I do not know what he relationship to his parents was like when he came out. But having to break yourself open time and time again, having to basically beg to be seen is fucking exhausting. I do not know if David knows that.
I both love and hate these little hints that Bobby is approaching a suicide attempt, giving away his parachute pants to his brother, dissociating during work, reaching out to people who are supposed to be in his safety network, leaving his work keys on the table. The camera work itself, they switch from a steady cam to a shaky cam as he calls David. His world is unstable, he can’t find solid ground. I like that the movie warns you that this plot point is coming right at the beginning of the film, when we see Bobby stroll along the overpass. I think it is important that Bobby thinks of moments of joy mixed in with moments of sadness as he contemplates for just a little longer whether or not it is worth it to stop trying. And honestly, because I am petty and his mother was fucking cruel, I am kind glad that the last thing we see before he decides to fall is his mother telling him she will not have a gay son. No parent should ever had to suffer the loss of their child, Bobby should not have had to die for his mother to make these changes in her thinking, but for as much as the Reverend tells Mary she did not kill Bobby, the narrative does not absolve her of the role she played in hurting Bobby.
Now, I famously had an extremely strong reaction to a moment in 180 Degrees Longitude Passes Through Us because it hit too close to home, so I was actually somewhat surprised that I was not having stronger emotional reactions to the first half of the film, watching Bobby be hurt. Maybe that’s because it was familiar, maybe it is because I knew to expect it, maybe it’s because I was shell shocked at hearing that Bobby’s therapy only cost $60 an hour). But hoo boy did I start having strong emotions after Bobby died.
I was downright seething as I sat there, listening to this Reverand give a eulogy for Bobby, where he calls Bobby lost, says that he has strayed, says that he gave in to temptation.
AT HIS FUNERAL
AT THIS YOUNG MAN’S FUNERAL
And that anger just sat, it sat there in my chest as I heard Bobby’s mother ask Bobby’s grandma if she thought that Bobby was in heaven or in hell. Mary loves her son, Mary can not imagine a world where her son burns for all eternity, Mary needs to hear from someone that her son is at peace in heaven, where he is safe and where she can see him again. But no one will tell her that. Not her family, not her church. And it struck me too, that the way Bobby’s grandmother speaks about queer people, the way Bobby’s grandmother cannot find it within herself to say “Of course he is in heaven” is part of why I never came out to my grandmother. Now, I do not envision a world where my grandmother would have as intense a response to my queerness as Bobby’s grandmother did, but she was old southern, and my dad’s side of the family is fairly traditional. My grandmother passed away last month without me having shared my whole self with her. One of the last things she said to me before she died was that she was proud of me, I was never willing to risk losing that. I saw that fear in Bobby’s eyes when he heard his grandma say queers should be killed. I hated Bobby’s brother for not understanding how much Bobby was set to lose if he outed him.
Initially I thought, because this movie was relatively short, that Mary would have a faster growth arc. I thought that what would make her question her faith, her belief that homosexuality is sinful, was the fact that David, a gay man, was the only person to praise her son, “he was an amazing young man”, without qualifiers. The reverend, his grandmother could not remember only the positive things about him, they had to focus on how much of a sinner he was. This dead boy.
But I honestly much prefer that it takes Mary time to reckon with everything. That we think perhaps the needle is moving forward when she takes David’s hand, only to throw out the plate he touched and wash her hands the second he has left the house. I like that she goes to her church, and she does not find the answers she wants, I love that she goes to the church Bobby popped in to from time to time, the one that was accepting of gay people, and that she immediately picks a fight with the reverend while also needing him to calm her grief.
You know what I love? Visible and intentional acts of empathy from someone who is very much having to put in some effort. One of my absolute favorite scenes in this entire film was the second conversation Mary has with Reverand Whitsell. He’s setting up for a rummage sale at the church, and this random, homophobic lady comes walking in to essentially debate him about his interpretation of the Bible compared to hers. And you can tell from his voice, from the stiffness of his movements, from the way he interacts with Mary that he is annoyed. I don’t think it is explicitly stated that Rev. Whitsell is queer, but he reads that way to me, because the way he handles Mary very much feels like a gay person having to explain for the 20th time why they deserve to have rights. But he is a holy man, he view’s God as compassion, and so despite the fact that he is clearly not wanting to have this conversation, he has it anyway. Because he knows that Mary is lost, and confused, and that she has no life line. And it would not be very Godly of him to turn her away.
For/By/About
This movie was made as a learning tool for homophobic Christians. It provides debate around the book of Leviticus a la West Wing. It feels very preachy, and I think that is because it is supposed to be.
So I would say this is a By and About piece at most, because this movie is adapted from the book, and Bobby makes the story. The director is queer as well.
Favorite Moment
My favorite moment of the film is a tragic one, Mary is at work when the Griffith’s family gets the news that Bobby has passed. I like the build up to that scene for Mary, who is told by her coworker that her husband wants to speak with her, and that she should bring her purse. The audience at this point knows Bobby is dead, and so we know that the purpose of the visit is to break the news, and that she needs her purse because they are going to have to go recover the body. But Mary does not know this, and so, it is another average boring day at work, and one of her kids is probably here because they need money. There is no hint of anxiety or concern around this divergence from her typical work day. And she is literally in the process of pulling money out of her wallet when she sees her husband.
My favorite moment in this movie is when Mary learns that Bobby is dead, and she cannot get out of work. Like, obviously, she is not going back to work, but physically she works behind metal gate with a mechanical locking mechanism that has to be unlocked by someone in a different location. And so she is trying to get out, she is screaming “help me, let me out, let me out, my son is dead, let me out” and all we see is Mary’s face desperate, her hands clutching at the door handle desperately trying to leave…
…and all you can see is that she’s caged. She is stuck, she is trapped. And this is a motif from Bobby’s voice overs. Bobby talks multiple times in this film about feeling alone, about wanting to be free. And here his mother is, alone, and wanting to be free. I think it is a really beautiful visual metaphor for this harmful belief Mary is stuck in, one that she needs to break out of.
We end with Mary attending P-FLAG events, speaking at council meetings to argue for a pride day to be recognized by their town, and marching in the San Francisco Pride Parade, and it feels earned, because they didn’t rush her growth. She had to go to the Reverend so many times, she had to talk to so many people, she had to listen to so many people, before she was able to wholly change her views on homosexuality.
Favorite Quote
“She smiled at something I said, and I saw in her eyes that for a second she forgot what she really thinks of me. The anger never erupts. My timid nature would never allow a full fledged thunderstorm to occur. But it’s there, on the horizon…”
Like I said, there are experiences Bobby has that feel familiar to me, that ignite these little sparks of recognition, and there was no place in the film I saw myself reflected back as strongly as when I heard Bobby talk about his anger.
Bobby holds anger, it sits around his edges, he holds his anger in. And that is me. I grew up in a household with a father who never capped his anger, he erupted all the time, he left shrapnel in his wake. I have my father’s anger, I hate that, over the years I have dedicated a large amount of energy towards tending to that horizon.
I have never been more angry in my entire life, than the first time I came home after talking with my mother about my gender identity, and having her misgender me for weeks straight. I have never wanted to erupt more, to blow up more, to scream, cry, or die more than when she asked me to do things for her, for the household, for my grandparents, every single day, while refusing to acknowledge my identity (and not expecting any labor from my brother, but that’s beside the point here).
I am not suicidal, I have never been suicidal, but the way the anger that festered when so much work, hours of manual and emotional labor were asked of me in my disabled, burnt out body, while my family could not be fucked to fix a pronoun, fucking scared me.
I will never know how Bobby truly felt, I will never know how much Bobby truly suffered, but I can guess, I know what emotions I carried in my body when I was being told some of the same things Bobby was, I know the toll it took on my mental health to hear my mother, two years after I told her I was bi, say that she doubted that was the case, because I just hadn’t found the right man yet. And it fucking sucked.
And I love being queer, there was a part of me that felt hollow for so long that was filled when I realized who I was. Bobby had to deal with figuring out self-acceptance and self-love from a very different starting point than me. Bobby did not want to be gay, Bobby was willing to try to be “healed”, so I cannot imagine how deep his anger, loneliness, and hopeless ran.
Score
10/10 for how much it made me reflect on my own experiences with family and queerness. Bobby seemed like a wonderful person, and it is nothing but a tragedy that he is not with us today, just like all the other people we have lost far too soon.
#cw: suicide#prayers for bobby#prayers for bobby (2009)#queer cinema syllabus#lgbtq films#bengiyo queer cinema syllabus#unit 3
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TRUST THE FORCE
SUMMARY: Years ago, Jyn Erso's mother tied a kyber crystal around her daughter's neck. Little did she know, this small act would save her daughter's life.
Ever since rewatching Rogue One in the theater as a preamble to Andor, I’ve been a bit obsessed. The scene of Jyn and Cassian on the beach is one of my favorite moments in Star Wars (and possibly all cinema!). I heard a head canon years ago that suggested maybe Jyn’s kyber crystal protected her and Cassian and brought them into the afterlife or preserved their spirits or something like that. I’ve always LOVED that idea, and was very inspired by this gorgeous piece of art by @sempaiko
I don’t really add anything new to the scene…but I felt a strong need to write this. So here you go! LOL! Enjoy this arbitrary retelling of my fav scene FULL OF PAIN 😭
Trigger warnings: nothing graphic, canon compliant sadness and pain
Rating: general
——————–
The light was almost beautiful, a pale orange-white streaking across the sky. But nothing could quite capture the horror those colors represented. A wall of water, steaming vapor, and pure energy moved toward them at a steady rate. This time no one was coming for them, no last-ditch efforts, no running away.
Their chances were spent.
And they both knew it.
Jyn and Cassian knelt in the sand at the water’s edge, watching their fate rushing towards them across the sea. Deep down they had known it would end this way. As K-2SO had used his last moment to smash the data consul, protectively sealing them in the vault, they knew their deaths were inevitable. Accepting that hard truth gave them the strength to carry on. Resisting the Force would only have gotten in the way.
They had both given so much, lost so much, been denied so much. Throughout their lives Jyn and Cassian had gone from one pain to the next, never stopping long enough to let the truth take root, for the truth was too ugly to face. But now, sitting in the sand next to an equal, having a partner that understood, was somehow a gentle comfort. They didn’t know each other, not really. But what was there to know? Favorite foods? Spiritual beliefs? Coffee or tea? None of that mattered. What Jyn and Cassian did know was how merely surviving could eat at your soul. Loyalty could be brushed aside by those in power, as though your sacrifices meant nothing. They understood how picking the lesser of two evils killed a little piece of who you were. They understood the fear of becoming a shell, of being lost to themselves—a result of drifting from one disparate, brutal task to the next.
As Jyn and Cassian looked into each other’s eyes, they felt certain that at least now, in this moment, their humanity was alive, their sacrifice counted for something. In this moment, they existed more deeply and more purely than they had ever existed before. Cassian existed in Jyn and Jyn existed in Cassian.
They were equals.
They intrinsically knew each other’s truth, not by a lifetime of friendship and minute detail but by this horrific moment distilling them both down to their rawest state. There’s no hiding who you are in a moment like this.
“Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn,” Cassian said gently, his steady gaze matching his unwavering voice. He knew how hard this whole experience had been for her, forcing her to relive heartbreak that she pretended didn’t affect her. She had proven to be more honorable and more dedicated than many Alliance members. He felt proud to fight by her side.
She smiled sadly. She knew Cassian was right, her father would have been proud, and she loved him for saying such a kind thing with his last few breaths. Jyn reached out and took his hand. They were in this together, all the way to the end. He’d been difficult to read at first, but she’d gradually come to see that Cassian was braver and more capable than most people. There was a gentle goodness buried under layers of ruthless grit. She understood him.
Jyn was scared, she couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t. The wall of death moving toward them was getting larger, taller, picking up momentum. She hoped it would be over fast. She looked at Cassian for reassurance. His gaze shifted back to the horizon and his eyes flashed with fear for a fraction of a second. He looked back at Jyn, his expression tight with the realization that there was nothing he could do to protect them.
They reached for each other at the same time, coming up on their knees and wrapping their bodies together. Cassian’s hand clutched into the back of her vest, holding her as tightly as he could, grounding himself as he squeezed his eyes shut. Jyn wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tightening against his back as tears welled up in her eyes.
Their bodies pressed together, their throats tight with emotion, as the air temperature grew warmer and warmer around them. Jyn began to tremble, her breath ragged as she clenched her teeth against a sob. Cassian’s grip tightened around her, responding to her fear. “I’ve got you,” he whispered into her ear over and over. He just kept repeating it, he didn’t know why. He knew he couldn’t save her, that holding her tightly wouldn’t stop what was coming. Jyn leaned her head against him, one last breath freezing in her chest. Cassian felt it; the roaring energy cloud was upon them and his eyes opened wide in fear right at the last moment.
——————–
It was like being plowed over, smashed, ripped, pulled backward and sideways at the same time. Everything evaporated into white, then red, then ruddy orangish-brown before going black.
After the initial violent shock, everything went deathly still, but then a strangeness took over, a sense of floating, of buoyancy lifting upward.
Cassian realize his eyes were squeezed shut, his body’s natural reflex, trying to protect itself. The fact that he even had eyes, or, for that matter, could construct thoughts, suddenly struck him as unusual. He extended his fingers but felt nothing, neither temperature nor sensation. He took a slow breath and opened his eyes.
What he saw overwhelmed his emotions.
Jyn floated across from him, seemingly unconscious. Beyond her was the galaxy’s vastness, empty and black, with distant stars glittering like fireflies. And there, floating between them, glowing with a gentle, warm white light, was the kyber crystal Jyn wore around her neck. It floated between her and Cassian, still tethered with the leather chord her mother had tied around it decades ago. An energy bubble encompassed their bodies, thrown out by the tiny gem. Somehow, the Force had protected them, transported them. Cassian didn’t understand, but he didn’t need to. He stared in awe, trembling with shock, his body weathered by what it had just endured. Everything he had suffered in his life, every pain and fear and heartbreak fell away. He intuitively knew that none of it existed anymore.
He watched as Jyn’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the curve of her mouth giving a slight flinch, as she sleepily regained consciousness. He watched fear flash over her face before her gaze settled on the kyber. Her chest heaved, tears falling down her cheeks as she realized her mother had saved her somehow. Cassian watched as she reached for the crystal, her fingers delicately outlining the ball of radiant energy without actually touching it. Then her eyes lifted to his, growing wide and gentle as she registered for the first time that he was there with her.
Jyn reached for Cassian instantly, their hands locking together, pulling each other close. He cupped her cheek in his right hand and wiped away her tears with his thumb. She clutched her fingers around his arm pulling him closer in an iron grip. “Don’t let go,” she whispered, her usually piercing gaze now unsure, yet still brave.
“I won’t,” Cassian said with conviction.
Her grip tightened, a sign that they shared the same sentiment.
The kyber still hovered between them, a beacon of protection in this strange in-between space where they floated. The Force was leading the way, slowly and steadily moving them toward someplace new.
They didn’t know where they would end up, but Jyn and Cassian took comfort in the certainty that at least they would be there together.
——————–
READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)
Likes and reblogs welcome here on Tumblr 💜
Thank you for reading.
Much love!
#rogue one#rogue one a star wars story#rogue one: a star wars story#star wars: rogue one#rogue one fanfiction#rogue one fic#cassian#jyn x cassian#cassian andor/jyn erso#cassian andor#andor#jyn erso#cassian and jyn fic#rebel captain#rebelcaptain#rebelcaptain fanfic#star wars#cassian andor fic#cassian andor fanfiction#jyn erso fic
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Movies I watched this week (#172):
"May I watch you eat?"
The taste of things is the latest French 'Food-porn' movie, following the recipe of so many before it, and paying homage especially to 'Babette's Feast', with Juliette Binoche playing the simple cook Stéphane Audran in a similar style. They knew what they were doing, romanticizing the 'olde thyme' vision of culinary bliss, making it like a summertime Renoir tableaux [but without any of the dozens of assistants needed to chop the wood, peel the potatoes, pluck the geese, and do the dishes]. Food as love.
I saw it on the same day I read this article about 'The Hottest Restaurant in France', which got me in the mood.
🍿
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please forgive me..."
Samsara is not Ron Flicke's film of the same name (him of the The Qatsi Trilogy). But this 2023 film too is a meditative, spiritual essay about life, death and change. It specifically tells about the Buddhist idea of re-incarnation.
Like the Italian poem 'Le quattro volte' it transforms the philosophical concept of 'Bardo' into a visual story about a bed-ridden old Laotian woman who turns into a new-born goat in Africa after her death. And like Philip Gröning's patient 'Into Great Silence', it follows the simple life in a monastery, quietly and poetically. (Photo Above).
It tells two separate stories: A young boy reads from 'The Tibetan book of the Dead' to a dying woman in a village in Laos. And exactly at midpoint, there's an unexplained, abstract 2001 "Star Gate" light show, where the (Spanish) director asks the audience to close their eyes, and get lost in the vortex with her for about 15 minutes. Long stretch of strobe lights and strange dead sounds, as her soul travels though the afterlife into new birth. Then her spirit transmutes into an another form, as a pet goat for a young Muslim girl in Zanzibar. It's a fragile, silent and unfocused vision about the circle of life.
🍿
Thoroughbreds, my second unsettling thriller by Cory Finley (after 'Bad Education'), his accomplished debut feature. It tells of two rich, psychopathic Connecticut girls who scheme to murder, a-la Raskolnikov, the mean father of the richer one. Terrific direction choices and well-made execution, but I can't stand the young, unlikable actresses (and actors!), and their emotionally-stunted upper-class coldness left me cold too.
I loved JunePictures's lovely animated logo at the beginning!
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Invention for Destruction, a Jules Verne steampunk'ish adventure fable. It was made by Karel Zeman, the "Czech Méliès", in 1958, and is considered "the most successful film in the history of Czech cinema". It's a fantasy sci-fi story that includes rollerskating camels, underwater biking pirates, a giant man-eating octopus, submarines with duck-foot paddles, Etc. It mixes real-life acting with special effect Victorian engravings and animation, including traditional, cut-out, and stop-motion, along with miniature effects and matte paintings. 4/10.
🍿
2 by French feminist Germaine Dulac:
🍿 Dulac was a radical, impressionist, avant-garde film-maker who had made ground-breaking surrealist silent films even before Buñuel and Dalí made 'The Andalusian Dog'.
The Smiling Madame Beudet (1923) is a strong feminist story of an intelligent woman unhappily married who's dreaming of killing her boorish husband. It includes a literal Chekhov's gun. [*Female Director*].
🍿 The Seashell and the Clergyman is based on an experimental story by avant-garde artist Antonin Artaud. A year before 'Un Chien Andalou', it's just as opaque & untamed. Anybody interested in early Buñuel, should visit her films. It's about the "erotic hallucinations of a priest lusting after the wife of a general." Distorted images, bizarre fantasies, impolite subversions... [*Female Director*].
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Another silent era classic, made by a towering pioneer, Alice Guy Blaché's 1906 The Life of Christ. [On IMDb, Alice Guy is credited with directing 464 (!) films, producing 32 and writing 18!]. Composed of 25 individual tableaux, telling of mostly his last days, and noted for her focus on his mostly women followers. The poor baby who had to play Jesus in the manger!... [*Female Director*].
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Crack-up, a confusing 1946 Film Noir, made by a second-rated director, with a terrible script and bad acting all around, including the miscast Pat O'Brien. A stolen art piece, not up to 'The Maltese Falcon' levels. 2/10.
🍿
"I was drugged and left for dead in Mexico, and all I got was this stupid T shirt."
A single re-watch this week: the sophisticated mystery The Game, again♻️. Still my favorite David Fincher film, even more than 'The social Network'. With the magnificent Memory montage opening, which was also copied successfully by the show 'Succession'. Chasing a "White Rabbit", a birthday present to remember...
🍿
2 more selections from the US National Film Registry:
🍿 I am somebody is a 1970 documentary about a strike by 400 black hospital employees (all but 12 women) for better pay in Charleston, South Carolina. Racist discrimination against poor blacks in Amerika is so appalling and so deep, it's hard to watch. The fight for equality and civil rights never ended. 9/10. [*Female Director*].
🍿 Jammin' the Blues is a 1944 Warner Bros. jazz short featuring Lester Young and (new to me) singer Marie Bryant. Oscar nominated in 1944. 'Smokin'!
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I used to really like British magician Darren Brown, and saw many of his shows. Pushed to the edge (2016) is a disturbing experiment in social compliance, a-la Stanley Milgram, taken to the extreme. With dubious morality, he manipulates an unsuspecting guy to push another man from the roof of a building. But the more elaborate the set up, the more uncomfortable it is to watch it.
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Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, a lame, loud, shallow music mockumentary by The Lonely Island. It had only one good number, "Fucked Bin Ladin" (which came at 46:00, exactly one hour before the end, so they did follow some script writing rules after all..) and about one million celebrity cameos, including Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney. 2/10.
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In They're Made Out Of Meat (2005) two aliens meet in a night Diner. One of them tell the other, dressed in St. Pepper-type uniform that he discovers that all people on this planet are "made out of meat". It's a cute concept, but that's the whole thing, and there's not more to it.
RIP, Terry Bisson!
🍿
Semiotics of the Kitchen was an angry installation piece by artist Martha Rosler, at the heights of the second wave feminism years (1975). A parody of a cooking show, where the host gets more and more agitated. [*Female Director*].
🍿
(My complete movie list is here)
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