#and that's when films/aesthetics started getting more modern and less traditional but still had a healthy dose of culture

[chameli]

hindi film soundtracks from the years 1997-2002 just hit different. the music sounded fresh & new but still melodious and nostalgic if you listen to it today. i was watching kahin pyaar na ho jaye the other day and the songs were so cute & fun. they didn't sound dated at all and the vibe was just great

[flufffysocks]

let's talk about andi mack's worldbuilding

sorry this took forever to make! i've been pretty busy with school stuff and i kind of lost my inspiration for a bit, but i ultimately really enjoyed writing it! i wish i could've included more pics (tumblr has a max of 10 per post), and it kinda turned from less of a mini analysis to more of an extremely long rant... but i hope it's still a fun read!

i've been rewatching the show over the past few weeks (thanks again to @disneymack for the link!), and i’ve been noticing a lot that i never did the first time around. this is really the first time i’ve watched the show from start to finish since it aired, and it honestly feels so different this time - probably a combination of the fact that i’m not as focused on plot and can appreciate the show as a whole, and also that the fandom is much, much smaller now, so there’s a lot less noise. so the way i’m consuming this show feels super different than it did the first time, but the show itself doesn’t - it’s just as warm and comforting to me as it was the first time around, if not more so.

i think a lot of that can be attributed to andi mack’s “worldbuilding”. i’m not quite sure that this is the right word in this context, to be honest, because i mostly see it used in reference to fantasy and sci-fi universes, but it just sort of feels right to me for andi mack, because you can really tell how much love and care went into constructing this universe. for clarity, worldbuilding is “the process of creating an imaginary world” in its simplest sense. there’s two main types: hard worldbuilding, which involves inventing entire universes, languages, people, cultures, places, foods, etc. from scratch (think “lord of the rings” or “dune”), and soft worldbuilding, in which the creators don’t explicitly state or explain much about the fictional universe, but rather let it’s nature reveal itself as the story progresses (think studio ghibli films). andi mack to me falls in the soft worldbuilding category. even though it takes place in a realistic fiction universe, there’s a lot of aspects to it that are inexplicably novel in really subtle ways.

so watching the show now, i’ve noticed that the worldbuilding comes primarily from two things - setting and props, and oftentimes the both of them in tandem (because a big part of setting in filmmaking does depend on the props placed in it!).

one of the most obvious examples is the spoon. it really is a sort of quintessential, tropic setting in that it's the main gang's "spot", which automatically gives it a warm and homey feel to it. and its set design only amplifies this:

the choice to make it a very traditional 50s-style diner creates a very nostalgic, retro feel to it, which is something that's really consistent throughout the show, as you'll see. from the round stools at the bar, to the booths, to the staff uniforms, this is very obvious. the thing that i found especially interesting about it though is the choice of color. the typical 50s diner is outfitted with metallic surfaces and red accented furnishings, but the spoon is very distinctly not this.

instead, it's dressed in vibrant teal and orange, giving it a very fresh and modern take on a classic look. so it still maintains that feeling of being funky and retro, but that doesn't retract from the fact that the show is set distinctly in modern times.

of course, this could just be a one-off quirky set piece, but this idea of modernizing and novelizing "retro" things is a really common motif throughout the show. take red rooster records. i mean, it's a record shop - need i say more? it's obviously a very prominent store in shadyside, at least for the main characters, but there's no apparent reason why it is (until season 2 when bowie starts working there, and jonah starts performing there). a lot of the time, though, it functions solely as a record shop. vinyl obviously isn't the most practical or convenient way of listening to music, but it's had its resurgence in pop culture even in the real world, mostly due to its aesthetic value, so it's safe to say that it serves the same purpose in the andi mack universe.

the fringe seems to be nostalgic of a different era, specifically the Y2K/early 2000s period (because it's meant to be bex's territory and symbolic of who she used to be, and its later transformation into cloud 10 is representative of her character arc, but that's beside the point). to be honest, exactly what this store was supposed to be always confused me. it was kind of a combination party store/clothing store/makeup store/beauty parlor? i think that's sort of the point of it though, it's supposed to feel very grunge-y and chaotic (within the confines of a relatively mellow-toned show, of course), and it's supposed to act as a sort of treasure chest of little curios that both make the place interesting and allow the characters to interact with it.

and, of course, there's andi shack. this is really the cherry on top of all of andi mack's sets, just because it's so distinctly andi. it serves such amazing narrative purpose for her (ex. the storyline where cece and ham were going to move - i really loved this because it highlights its place in the andi mack universe so well, and i'm a sucker for the paper cranes shot + i'm still salty that sadie's cranes didn't make it into the finale) and it's the perfect reflection of andi's character development because of how dynamic it is (the crafts and art supplies can get moved around or switched out, and there's always new creations visible).

going back to the nostalgia motif though, the "shack" aspect of it always struck me as very treehouse-like. personally, whenever i think of treehouses, there's this very golden sheen of childhood about it, if that makes sense. i've always seen treehouses in media as a sort of shelter for characters' youthful innocence and idealistic memories. for example, the episode "up a tree" from good luck charlie, the episode "treehouse" from modern family, and "to all the boys 2" all use a treehouse setting as a device to explore the character's desire to hold onto their perfect image of their childhood (side note: this exact theme is actually explored in andi mack in the episode "perfect day 2.0"!). andi shack is no exception to this, but it harnesses this childhood idealism in the same way that it captures the nostalgia of the 50s in the spoon, or the early 2000s in the fringe. it's not some image of a distant past being reflected through that setting; it's very present, and very alive, because it reflects andi as she is in the given moment.

some honorable mentions of more one-off settings include the ferris wheel (from "the snorpion"), the alley art gallery (from "a walker to remember"), SAVA, the color factory (from "it's a dilemna"), and my personal favorite, the cake shop (from "that syncing feeling").

[every time i watch this episode i want to eat those cakes so bad]

these settings have less of a distinctly nostalgic feel (especially the color factory, which is a very late 2010s, instagram era setting), but they all definitely have an aura of perfection about them. andi mack is all about bright, colorful visuals, and these settings really play to that, making the andi mack universe seem really fun and inviting, and frankly very instagrammable (literally so, when it comes to the color factory!).

props, on the other hand, are probably a much less obvious tool of worldbuilding. they definitely take up less space in the frame and are generally not as noticeable (i'm sure i'll have missed a bunch that will be great examples, but i'm kind of coming up with all of this off the top of my head), but they really tie everything together.

for example, bex's box, bex's polaroid, and the old tv at the mack apartment (the tv is usually only visible in the periphery of some shots, so you might not catch it at first glance) all complement that very retro aesthetic established through the settings (especially the polaroid and the tv, because there's really no good reason that the characters would otherwise be using these).

besides this, andi's artistic nature provides the perfect excuse for plenty of colorful, crafty props to amplify the visuals and the tone. obviously, as i discussed before, andi shack is the best example of this because it's filled with interesting props. but you also see bits of andi's (and other people's) crafts popping up throughout the show (ex. the tape on the fridge in the mack apartment, andi's and libby's headbands in "the new girls", walker's shoes, andi's phone case, and of course, the bracelet). not only does doing this really solidify this talent as an essential tenet of andi's character, but it also just makes the entirety of shadyside feel like an extension of andi shack. the whole town is a canvas for her crafts (or art, depending on how you want to look at it. i say it's both), and it immensely adds to shadyside's idealism. because who wouldn't want to live in a world made of andi mack's creations?

and, while it's not exactly a prop, the characters' wardrobe is undoubtedly a major influence on the show's worldbuilding. true to it's nature as a disney channel show, all of the characters are always dressed in exceptionally curated outfits of whatever the current trends are, making the show that much more visually appealing. i won't elaborate too much on this, because i could honestly write a whole other analysis on andi mack's fashion (my favorites are andi's and bex's outfits! and kudos to the costume designer(s) for creating such wonderful and in-character wardrobes!). but, i think it's a really really important aspect of how the show's universe is perceived, so it had to be touched upon.

[^ some of my favorite outfits from the show! i am so obsessed with andi's jacket in the finale, and i aspire to be at bex's level of being a leather jacket bisexual]

and lastly, phones. this is a bit of an interesting case (pun intended), because the way they're used fluctuates a bit throughout the show, but i definitely noticed that at least in the first season terri minsky tried to avoid using them altogether. these efforts at distancing from modern tech really grounds the show in it's idealist, nostalgia-heavy roots, so even when the characters start using their phones more later in the show, they don't alter the viewer's impression of the andi mack universe very much.

so, what does all of this have to do with worldbuilding? in andi mack's case, because it's set in a realistic universe and not a fantasy one, a lot of what sets it apart from the real world comes down to tone. because, as much as this world is based on our own, it really does feel separate from it, like an alternate reality that's just slightly more perfect than ours, which makes all the difference. it's the idealism in color and composition in andi mack's settings that makes it so unmistakably andi mack. even the weather is always sunny and perfect (which is incredibly ironic because the town is called shadyside - yes, i am very proud of that observation).

the andi mack universe resides somewhere in this perfect medium that makes it feel like a small town in the middle of nowhere (almost like hill valley in 1955 from "back to the future"), but at the same time like an enclave within a big city (because of its proximity to so many modern, unique, and honestly very classy looking establishments). it is, essentially, an unattainable dream land that tricks you into believing it is attainable because it's just real enough.

all this to say, andi mack does an amazing job of creating of polished, perfect world for its characters. this is pretty common among disney channel and nickelodeon shows, but because most other shows tend to be filmed in a studio with three-wall sets, andi mack is really set apart from them in that it automatically feels more real and tangible. it has its quintessential recurring locations, but it has far more of them (most disney/nick shows usually only have 3-4 recurring settings), and it has a lot more one-off locations. it's also a lot more considerate when it comes to its props, so rather than the show just looking garish and aggressively trendy, it has a distinctive style that's actually appropriate to the characters and the story. overall this creates the effect of expanding the universe, making shadyside feel like it really is a part of a wider world, rather than an artificial bubble. it's idealism is, first and foremost, grounded in reality, and that provides a basis for its brilliant, creative, and relatable storytelling.

tl;dr: andi mack's sets and props give it a very retro and nostalgic tone which makes its whole universe seem super perfect and i want to live there so bad!!

[m34gs]

Hi friend!!

For the ask game: 🧛?? ❤❤😊😊

Hey friend! Hope your day is going well!! Thank you for the ask :) (from this post here)

🧛- Favourite movie monster/character?

Ok, so I have to make a few clarifications, because...well...you see...I actually really enjoy scary movies/Halloween movies. So, I don't feel I can answer just one for this question.

In terms of what is viewed as the 'traditional' monsters in Western Culture, when it comes to movies...I'd have to say mummies, specifically the mummy in the movie "The Mummy". As I referenced in another ask game not too long ago, I absolutely love The Mummy, starring Brendan Fraser. And that's where I really had my introduction to 'mummies' as a 'monster' (if we're being honest, the fact the main villain was mummified is not what made him a monster. Yeah he had a horrible death, and that always terrified me, but I think what made him the monster was how obsessed he was with the woman he 'loved' and how hell-bent he was on killing and taking his rage and revenge out on everyone as he tried to get her back). However, I am not a huge fan of the cartoon versions of these kinds of characters.

In terms of a more modern representation of those 'traditional monsters', Dracula from Castlevania. Because I feel that. Like, he finally finds love and the church slaughters her? I dunno about you, but I'd be tempted to go on a killing spree for revenge. Also, I really enjoyed his aesthetic. (no one spoil anything, lol! I haven't watched season 2 yet. I know it's a game but i've never had the joy of playing it, either, so I truly don't know how it will end)

If we wanna talk less on the 'supernatural' and more in terms of human characters, or human villains from movies...hmmm...I'd have to say Papa Jupiter and his family from The Hills Have Eyes (1977 film). Honestly, I liked the idea of nuclear testing and nuclear warfare having horrible consequences and I found it interesting the way it shaped his life. Though, that sympathy pretty well ends where he starts killing and doing atrocities. Still, I think the fact that he was still recognized as a person in the film was important. It made it harder for the other characters to stomach because he could talk, he could reason, he may not look the best but he was a man, and yet he was doing horrible things. His sons definitely had more physical deformities, but they also still had language and reasoning capabilities. To me, the fact they retained some semblance humanity made them more terrifying. I will say I was a bit disappointed that their sister, Ruby, was not only not similar to them in physical appearance (because sexism says we can't have an 'unattractive' woman character who is meant to be 'good') and ALSO HER NAME. HER DAD IS 'PAPA JUPITER'. HER BROTHERS ARE 'MARS', 'MERCURY', 'PLUTO', AND THEY DECIDED HER NAME SHOULD BE 'RUBY'?! NO. THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE I WANT MY SOLAR SYSTEM VILLAIN FAMILY DON'T TAKE THAT OPPORTUNITY AWAY FROM ME!!!! (as for the reboot, haven't watched it. Have seen the sequel to the reboot, and I have to say it was disgusting and not in a good way. It was awful, the storyline sucked, the main characters sucked, the villains sucked, there was barely any plot to it and the way they portrayed the villains made them seem more beast like than anything which is incorrect because the POINT of the original film was that they were HUMANS affected by nuclear radiation, but still fucking human. Like, making them less communicative and more beast-like actually takes away from the terror of it all because it allows the audience to be like 'oh they're not really human they're just monsters, it's not real and never could be,' and like, no??? That's not it, fam. They are meant to represent the difference between the upper and lower class. The Jupiter family is literally struggling out in the wilderness to survive and take advantage of a situation where people with resources they could use come right into their territory. And the Carter family? They were warned, they didn't listen and assumed the man warning them was crazy, and continued on their merry way. Then they're *shocked* when they end up as targets. They go on a long road trip together, and they think they're above the 'crazy man's warning'. Like. You can't just strip that away from the movie. Stop it. I hate when reboots or sequels go after the wrong angle and try to scare simply with the shock factor rather than make an actual good movie.)

I...didn't expect my answer to get that long. Lol. Sorry, I got a little passionate in my rant about Papa Jupiter and family...but it was fun to answer.

Hope you enjoyed~

[filmhistorymptv1145]

In your first blog post of the semester, explore the tug of war in cinema between the “classical” in cinematic storytelling and those who try to subvert it. Drawing upon examples from the films we have studied thus far, define what “classical” cinematic storytelling is and demonstrate how it functioned in an earlier period of film history, as well as its continuing legacy. Where do you see evidence of the “classical” today? Then, consider how filmmakers working in subversive modes challenge the dominance of classicism, either through subtle, indirect means or by full-on assaults. What kinds of classical storytelling approaches do they reject? How do they do that? What changes in form and content defy the classical? The films we’ve seen will help, as will the various sources you’ve been given for study. Use examples from the films we have studied, and draw upon others that you think are relevant.

Cinema is often thought to be the highest form of art, since it combines storytelling, acting, and music all in one glorious attempt to do something that feels simple, but as we find in exploring the history of film, not so much: the art of telling a story. There are many different ways to approach conveying information in a visual manner, and although the direct method might seem to be the easiest, we find that directors can get away with telling their story in the most imaginative ways possible. From the use of flashbacks, forwards and sometimes even sideways, the viewer is taken on a journey through which they are given the clues needed to piece the entire story together on their own. Directors use these various methods of storytelling often to drive home a point, possibly about how the main protagonist sees the world, or how memories are often skewed through the lenses of either emotion or possible mental illness. Telling a story on screen involves a lot of elements that were cemented as ‘classical’ during the early days of Hollywood, and many directors still utilize these storytelling techniques to this day. Others have forged their own path in defying the classical model of film, whether by altering how the progression of the story is conveyed to the viewers, or simply casting away the norms all together.

As Hollywood began to come into its own in the early 1900′s, many of the silent films that were made followed a recipe for getting its message across to the audience watching the screen. It all started off with Alice Ida Antoinette Guy-Blaché, credited with creating the first directed narrative. Up until that point, most movies that were being made were what we would call by today’s standards ‘b-roll footage’. Images of trains coming into a station, workers leaving factories for the day, and horses running were what was most often seen in early day Nickelodeon’s. Alice was the first to use a three stage story arc when she directed her first short film Suspense. Illustrating the rising action with the mother seeing the robber in the alley below her bedroom window, the climax of the husband bringing the police home with him in time to save his wife and child, and the resolution when the family is safely reunited, and the would-be robber is taken away by the policeman. Using film to not only illustrate a story but take the audience on a journey that tugs at their emotions and leaves them sitting on the edge of their seat was not something that had been done before.

Alice paved the foundation for classical storytelling in early cinema, which was firmly linear for several decades once the Motion Picture Production Code began being firmly enforced by the Catholic Church. Since villainy was to be punished and goodness was to be rewarded in the rules, many of the films that came out between 1934 and 1965 followed the same formula. The man ended up with the woman he was in love with, and they were able to get through whatever troubles sprung up in their way throughout the movie.

We see this in Ninotchka, where a Soviet agent is tempted by the love of a Frenchman named Leon and driven to betray the Communist regime of her country in order to pursue it. Nothing can come between them, not even when she returns to Russia and Leon is barred from visiting her. Even when his romantic letters to her are censored by the Communists, the hope in the story is not completely lost. 

Through all obstacles, Ninotchka and Leon are happily in each other’s arms by the end of the movie. You would think that the Communist regime of 1930’s Russia would easily get in the way of two lovers, but in the glittering bauble of Hollywood, there was seemingly nothing that could prevent the linear storytelling model from rewarding the deeds of the good-doers. Not even a strong-willed, stony Communist woman can ignore the temptation of the love of a man, or the freedom that would come with fleeing her home land. Betraying their home country in the name of love isn’t something many people have to struggle with. Yet we see Ninotchka’s transformation unfold on screen in an almost eerie fashion, under Leon’s influence. At the same time, she doesn’t lose the core of who she is even after falling in love. We see this when she gets quite drunk while out with Leon, and she’s caught promoting Marxist ideals inside the women’s bathroom. At the end of the day, Leon still loves Ninotchka for who she is, Communist and all. 

However, some modern films still manage to follow a linear manner of storytelling, even if they are groundbreaking via other means. Take Donnie Darko for instance. Filled with strange imagery that represents Donnie’s visions of how to save the tangent universe from certain destruction, it can feel like a film that displaces the viewer. However, if you have watched it a few times, you can see that the strange, obscure events in the story are still told in the order as they happen. From the night that Frank appears to Donnie and warns him of the world’s impending doom that is to come in twenty-eight days, a countdown begins from that point onward. Even when Donnie is experiencing visions of his school flooded with water, or being egged on by Frank to burn down the house of a local celebrity, we see each day pass by in order until the film’s ending. Images of water and fire are placed against Donnie’s relatively normal, everyday life as a high school boy in a stark, brilliantly vivid contrast. 

While Richard Kelly could have chosen to present the film’s events out of order or utilize flash backs and forwards to communicate his vision, his unique and bizarre story was easier to understand since it was told linearly. Kelly still manages to subvert the norm by creating his own science behind what was happening to Donnie, between the tangent universe, living receiver and the manipulated dead and living. Kelly also did not feel the need to show the audience every last little detail of Donnie’s abilities and experiences, feeling that ‘less was more’ in his interview in The Donnie Darko Book. Rather than showing Donnie levitating off of the ground and swinging the axe into the bronze statue of the school’s mascot, Kelly instead cuts to the scene where the disfigured piece of art is discovered by both the police and the principal. 

Choosing to let the audience use their own imaginations to fill in the blanks allows the viewer to come up with their own creative ideas as to how events unfold, instead of being spoon fed them shot by shot. A cult classic, Donnie Darko still comes to mind all these years later whenever the topic of films that challenge the classical model through indirect and still wildly creative means.

Then there are directors which completely subvert the linear story model, turning it on its head and taking the audience through an unexpected, wild ride where they are never quite sure if they can trust what they are seeing on screen. Robert Eggers’ newest film The Lighthouse is a story that is difficult to grasp on the first viewing. Even in just aesthetic terms, Eggers goes against the norm in choosing the 4x3 aspect ratio for his movie, instead of the traditional widescreen. It brings us closer to the actors and their rapid descent into madness, giving off a sense of claustrophobia as the dread slowly builds on screen. The movie is shot in black and white instead of contemporary color film, which leads to our eyes having fewer things to be distracted by as we watch. It also adds to the otherworldly, nightmarish atmosphere of the movie, and gives the director more opportunities to use the lighting on set to convey the deeper messages that are found in The Lighthouse.

Eggers has a way of giving the viewer a creeping sense of foreboding without showing anything scary at all. The opening shot of The Lighthouse begins with a large ship cutting through dark and stormy waters, and then we see our two main characters shot from behind with the lighthouse towering above their heads, accompanied by tense music. There’s something to be feared in these beginning moments, even if the viewer can’t quite put their finger on just what it is yet.

The audience is not sure if the main protagonist, Winslow, is a reliable character or not. There comes a point in the movie where everything we are led to believe up to that point is turned onto its head, and from that moment forward the viewer can not tell if Winslow is of sound mind or not.

The night before their shift is supposed to end and the ferry will come to take them away from the lighthouse and the island, Winslow finally breaks his sobriety and he gets quite drunk with Wake. During what we think is the next day (any attention paid to how much time has passed feeling scrambled by this point), Wake informs Winslow that the rot has gotten to their salted fish. Winslow replies that they had only missed the ferry by a day, and there is no need to ration their food. Wake replies that it had been weeks since they had missed the ferry that was supposed to take them home, not a single day. Wake also says that he had been telling Winslow to ration their food for the past few weeks, to which Winslow does not believe him. Wake comments that he does not want to be stuck at his post with a lunatic, and bids Winslow to go with him to dig up their extra rations, which turn out to be comprised of nothing but more alcohol. Wake makes a few slip-ups of his own in recounting his sailor days with Winslow, having two different versions of how he lost his leg, or whether or not he had been married and had a family. Between Wake’s lying and Winslow’s seemingly unstable mental state, there is no reliable narrator to trust throughout the film.

From then onward, the film spirals into such madness that the viewer can only hope to retain their wits enough to follow what is unfolding on the screen and attempt to piece together what is real and what is not in their own mind. We no longer have any baseline for reality to cling to at this point, between the excessive drinking on screen, and the characters’ untrustworthy narrations. Eggers gives us only the briefest, pin-prick sized moments of normalcy, such as Wake and Winslow catching lobsters for their dinner, or Winslow attending to his various duties on the small outcrop of land that the lighthouse sits on. Even then it is difficult to pay close attention to these tiny seconds of peace after having been put through a dizzying whirlwind of stimulus only seconds prior, with visions of sirens washed up on the beach, or tentacles belonging to some great, terrible beast sliding across the top floor of the lighthouse.

The linear model of storytelling that was cemented in early Hollywood is classical for good reason. The early directors and screenwriters of that era paved the foundation that modern day films still utilize nearly a hundred years later, setting a standard that directors can either utilize, or subvert entirely. It is safe to say that there is no limit on creativity and ingenuity, no matter how the director may choose to tell their story on screen. Whether they follow the classical model, subvert it entirely or land in some sort of middle ground, we as the audience are given plenty of artistic content to work with and ponder about regardless of what they choose.

[yofavcocoa]

Amber Heard Plastic Surgery Before as well as After

At least that's what Dr. Julian De Silva, a London-based cosmetic surgeon, concluded when he examined the 33-year-old's features using computer mapping modern technology.

" The Phi ratio of 1.618 has actually long been believed to hold the trick for elegance," he states. After determining Amber and other superstars across 12 essential pens for the nose, lips, eyes, temple, chin, and facial symmetry and form, he discovered that Amber came closest to the old Greek principles for physical perfection thanks to cosmetic surgery! Visit Website and see pictures before and after plastic surgery!

" [She] has one of the most lovely faces in the world, racking up a high 91.85 percent."

Certainly, a cosmetic surgeon greater than any person would recognize that the supposed "best" face proportions can be accomplished by going under the knife. Interestingly sufficient, Dr. De Silva's formula scored Kim Kardashian 91.39 percent, as well as most of us, recognize there's nothing all-natural regarding her!

So did Amber additionally have a little aid? Allow's learn!

Amber in 2005

Our first shot was from back in 2005 when Brownish-yellow was 19 years old. She's got the same dirty blonde hair color, the same eyes, and also the very same lovely skin. What's various compared to now? I think it's generally to do with her mouth. We can see that her top lip was naturally a lot thinner than the reduced one, for starters.

Amber in 2006

In this more front-facing shot from 2006, we get a far better consider her initial nose. It appears a little broader and extra noticeable compared to more recent photos. Additionally, her smile doesn't have that "Hollywood" look yet; I think since she has a little bit of an overbite. Keep in mind the thinner brows, which got on the pattern back then.

Amber in 2007

In 2007, Brownish-yellow was still undressed (I think!). I'm rather sure I would not have acknowledged her in this shot. Again, the distinction is all in the mouth-- her overbite is triggering her teeth to protrude over her reduced lip slightly, and also, her top lip isn't almost as full. The makeup is additionally rinsing her complexion. I assume the structure is too matte and grainy and can make use of some measurement from bronzer or flush.

Amber in 2008

In 2008, she cycled via several hair colors. First, it was back to her natural dirty blonde-- however, styled in these stiff, retro curls. (There was a genuine old Hollywood moment around this moment, do you keep in mind? Scarlett Johansson made use of to use this type of appearance too!) Brownish-yellow's teeth are additionally brighter, although there are many more changes to find. When it comes to the "bunny lines" close to her nose, sometimes those can occur from Botox. However, she was only 22 at this time ... hmmm!

Amber in 2009

The black hair had actually faded right into this deep brownish by the list below year, which Amber paired with a spray tan and spiky false lashes. From this angle, I see two points. She still has that minor overbite appearance (which she does not have currently). Plus, her nose still has the same little bump on the bridge, similar to 2007.

Amber in 2010

After that came one more significant change in 2010. To accompany her initial film functions as the women lead (in Drive Angry and The Rum Diary), she upgrades both her hair color and makeup. This warm blonde is a lot kinder to her complexion, and the great smoky eyes and flushed cheeks are tranquil. I don't think she altered anything additional regarding her features at this time ... yet stay tuned!

Amber in 2011

The list below year, Amber was a blonde once more, but this time around, it looks a lot extra brightened. Although I'm still not fascinated by the color, the smooth styling makes her appearance equally the star. One more monitoring: spray tans were a whole lot extra obvious in this age! The same chooses the makeup, which is heavy-handed. When it comes to her teeth, they're whiter and brighter than ever before. She had veneers because the shapes and sizes are different from 2008.

Amber in 2012

At age 26, Amber had yet an additional hair color change, and also, this one's my favorite of all, a warm medium brown. I can bear in mind caring about this at the time, and I really feel the same way already! Orange lipstick was a huge trend that year, as well as Brownish-yellow is using it with attractive fresh skin. Her eyebrows have actually also completed rather, compared to 2006. But there could be something else adding to this look ... a little tweak to her nose. Bear in mind; celebrities typically change their hair at the same time to toss us off!

Amber in 2013

Amber's redhead hair was just as gorgeous in 2013. I really did a double-take with this photo-- initially, look, I thought it was Miranda Kerr! You have to admit that she looks extremely modelesque with the marginal makeup and side-swept, brushed-out waves.

Amber in 2014

I think 2014 was the year that Brownish-yellow truly "made it" as a star, ending up being a regular on the red carpet. The first thing that leaps out in this image is her top lip. Does it look fuller because the edge has been overdrawn with lip lining? Or did she have a little something infused? I'm not sure!

Amber in 2015

Okay, by 2015, I definitely assume Brownish-yellow was messing around with hyaluronic acid lip shots. See just how the bottom side of her top lip is quite lumpy? She also had this very same expression in 2007, and also, her top lip did not have this much fullness. I believe she finally arrived at her "Life Colour" with this blonde in other news. She has remained near to this color since!

Amber in 2016

Does Brownish-yellow get prettier and also prettier or what? She was 30 in this image, and I'm enjoying the off-the-face updo as well as glowy makeup. Red lipstick has actually started to become her point currently (it additionally makes lip injections less obvious!). You'll see that her mouth setting appears a lot more loosened up, perhaps since her teeth are no more protruding as much.

Amber in 2017

Hair and makeup always boost considerably as individuals climb the celeb ladder, and this appearance is no exemption. The tousled beachy hair, great brown smoky eyes, shaded brows, contoured cheeks, and matte tarnished lips are all extremely innovative (and were no question implemented by specialists). Notice how her top lip now matches the dimension of her lower one.

Amber in 2018

With a streamlined ponytail as well as red lipstick, this ensemble was perhaps Amber's most developed look today. See what I indicate about the red lipstick camouflaging the plumped-up lip( s)? Although she is putting on a heavier layer of the structure, the makeup is excellent. Her face also appears a lot more angular currently, possibly from age, weight-loss, or tension. Honestly, I think she looks a little tired. (Stars! They're just like us!).

Amber in 2019

That brings us to Amber's latest pic-- and even with red lipstick, these lips stick out. They're absolutely the plumpest she's needed today, as well as are what obtained me thinking of this Before & After, to begin with! Fortunately, they're balanced by extremely, very little makeup, an off-the-face hairstyle, and her max eyebrows yet.

Conclusion

Before I started this Before & After, I thought Brownish-yellow underwent a few cosmetic tweaks to rack up so high with Dr. De Silva's algorithm.

Specifically, I believed a nose job-- similar to the majority of celebs we have actually looked at in this column. Now that I've analyzed her red carpet images, I still think that procedure. But this is just one of the more difficult instances to inform without a doubt!

With her face angled sideways, there's not a considerable distinction in her account over the years, except perhaps a much less forecasted suggestion. When she's facing the electronic camera, she could have had some traditional sculpting to tighten her nostrils and develop a more button-like idea.

Something I bank on, nonetheless-- Amber made huge modifications to her lips as well as teeth!

There's no denying that she explores lip injections these last few years to boost her upper lip's dimension.

What made the largest difference was addressing her protruding teeth, probably with something like Invisalign's undetectable dental braces. Currently, when she smiles, her teeth no more overlap her bottom lip. She additionally has a much whiter, more even smile, likely because of a combination of teeth lightening and porcelain veneers.

When we consider plastic surgery, we do not generally think about aesthetic dentistry, yet Brownish-yellow's Before & After goes to show you exactly how transformative it can be!

[kateeorg]

Point-by-Point Scoob Analysis (second viewing, bc I’m bored)

Spoilers below!

Why Venice Beach, I have to wonder? And why this song? I don’t dislike it, but I’m curious about the reasoning

The gyro scene is really fun XD

Shaggy’s intro is perfect - the music, the “Casey’s Creations” and Mystery Machine aesthetics, just beautiful. You can see the little shake in his hand as he switches to the podcast - he’s so alone :(

“I lose a lot of balls” funny AND sad. And Young Sheldon being lonely is on point for him

Gyro meat  - convenient! But yeah, I can see how Shaggy’s weird lunch combos would be off-putting to others

Oh, he found him ON Halloween?? That’s so odd. (But on brand)

“Well mostly man. It’s mostly just the suit that’s falcon.”

“Like no way bruh” Really? That... sounds odd coming from Shaggy.

...Since when do young boys care about blood sugar? Also, “We’re okay with that” XD

Baby Fred, Daphne, and Velma are also perfect

...No. No no. RBG is not a Slytherin. But that, braces Velma and Hogwarts references very much modernize the series and put them firmly in modern day (without going too out there).

The kids are such badasses, it’s awesome

The replication of the original credits is *perfect* - they even got the original Space Creep sound 

Scooby handles the accounting? Also, how old are they supposed to be? If they’re expected to pay taxes and get called millennials, are they late 20s?

I’m really not convinced by the Simon Cowell bit, I’m sorry. They could have made him a bland British investor, not attached to the name. There really should have been some more time invested in this scene (but I AM glad Mystery Inc never agreed with Simon, or even considered he was right) (Also Simon - haven’t you heard of networking? Making friends to get ahead?)

Scooby bowling is such great physical comedy, and the chase is very Scooby Doo

Hyper-specific police code ftw

Falcon Fury!

You know Scooby and Shaggy are having a bad day when they’re *happy* to be in danger

The falcon entrance is admittedly funny

I really wish if Blue Falcon and Dynomutt had to have such a bug role, there’d been more about how Dynomutt feels about his original owner basically ditching him.  It seemed like that was supposed to have more significance, and then it didn’t.

The shake button XD and Dastardly is fantastic from the first

...right, because this script wasn’t also written by middle-aged men.

Also, how’d she know about the blue light?

Velma fanning out is fun

The robots make me uncomfortable, and I’m not sure why. 

Muttley <3

I appreciate that Falcon was trying to be resourceful.

“You’re now out of... everything.”

Scooby and Shaggy’s gift is to inspire - they’re the lucky charm

...And this is where I started to dislike Falcon. He’s just... he’s too dumb. The bravado is one thing, but  then Fred is a little too similar. I think Falcon is supposed to be a foil for Shaggy, but I don’t know... didn’t quite work for me.

OH! I didn’t get the connection between the Greek restaurant at the beginning and the Cerberus plot until now! Nice.

DeeDee deserves more credit, hands down. Honestly, make her Blue Falcon.

I love all the references in the arcade - Hex Girls, Hong Kong Phooey, LaffALympics

The fun house scene is really cool! And funny, so colorful

My mom really liked this bit with the Ferris Wheel and the bumper cars and the smoke cloud - more traditionally cartoony

And I started to dislike Falcon more here. -__- (Like you acknowledge Shaggy is hurting and then just decide let’s give the dog a super suit instead of focusing on the mission? 90% of what goes wrong in this move is his fault and I don’t like it)

Okay. I get that Shaggy is really insecure. And Scooby isn’t reassuring him at all. But it feels like there’s more going on here, and I wish he’d had the chance to talk about it more than he did to give us more context. (But I still maintain this is less contrived than Shaggy falling for that Mary Jane girl in the live action film, so I’ll let it pass)

I actually really like Daphne’s characterization as the people person (though I feel real bad Grey DeLisle wasn’t given a chance to voice her), and how the gang are quick to realize how much Shaggy and Scooby contribute. They were never down on them, but it’s still important. 

Messick Mountain :)

Velma as Dynomutt was great

I do really like the plot and how it ties to friendship. Also, Muttley is perfect, my parents loved him.

Poor man’s Hemsworth

I initially questioned whether Scooby would really be safer off the ship. But of course that’s not the point - this kicks off the conflict. Remember kids: NEVER give someone an ultimatum. 

I appreciate that this was the only poop joke in the movie. Unlike the original Scooby Doo movie...

And now Shaggy realizes he was an ass. But seriously - the “Shaggy’s refusal to change is tearing them apart” thing needed a little more finessing. I see where they were going, but didn’t quite make it home.

The Captain Caveman bit was a little... eh? Not sure what I’d put there instead. It does the point of showing Falcon and Scooby they’re not really traditional hero material.

Scooby looks so sad as he gets taken :(

See, this is where I feel like Falcon and Fred were too similar, though it is pretty funny

See... I don’t think this speech was earned. It’s beautiful. If I saw it in isolation it would be great. But something was missing in the buildup. I can’t see how Shaggy made it from “I screwed up” to “Friendship changing is okay.” 

This whole Athens bit is so beautiful and cinematic, I hope this gets a chance to be in theaters someday!

Flying mystery machine! 

FLUFFY!

Mystery Inc reunion <3 But poor Fred, his van up in flames

(Someone set this to “Your Wagon is On Fire” from Trail to Oregon!)

Dastardly and Muttley is actually pretty sweet, but not a Scooby-Shaggy redux. (My parents love the snicker)

THE ASCOT RETURNS! But this is usually the part where he figures out a trap.

Scooby and Shaggy growing and embracing their roles on the team <3

“I’m so weak” - my parents and I laughed hysterically at this

The Dynomutt-Falcon moment was nice :) (again, not sure it was earned). Also, cool wings are cool.

This really is a Scooby Doo Avengers

Shaggy becomes important in the worst possible way :( 

“Back when we were kids, you saved me. Now it’s my turn.” Damn with the feeeeels

Scoooby :( 

“But why would Alexander make a gate that would separate him from his best friend forever?” Martyrdom is not the only way, y’all

Aw, Dynomutt is trying

Had to throw in an unmasking

I guess they got backing after all! 

(Wait... was Dick Dastardly the Simon Cowell at the beginning??? That would make so much sense, actually!! Is this confirmed?! )

Don’t know how I feel about the new Mystery Machine, but Fred is happy :)

DeeDee deserves a raise

Falcon Force! Falcon realizes he needs friends too. But Dastardly is at large...

Okay, second watch was less off-putting. I do like it! It’s colorful and sticks to the cartoon, and there’s clearly so much love here, for Scooby and all of Hanna Barbara. Admittedly, this isn’t really a mystery - it’s a superhero origin story, which admittedly the trailers should have prepared me better for. But we’ve seen Scooby mysteries on the big and small screen, so I see why they had to change it up to justify such a blockbuster animation project. (Not unlike Recess: School’s Out going from middle school slice of life to save-the-world adventure.) And we do get mystery-solving shenanigans in the beginning.

But as a result, things do feel a tad bit dumbed down, particularly with Blue Falcon, Fred, and Shaggy’s development. I don’t love that aspect, but I can see why that compromise had to be made.

So all in all, I think it’s a solid film! It’s more Trolls than Pixar, but honestly? Not sure I’d have Scooby Doo any other way. 

[gojira007]

Movie Meme

Took me a bit of time, but I was tagged by @bunnikkila to list my nine favorite movies, and since I can’t help but be ridiculously verbose about that very topic, you can see them all under the cut 8D

As for who I tag?  Well, as always with the caveat that you are free to ignore if you don’t wanna, I’ll go with: @elistodragonwings @kaikaku @donnys-boy @robotnik-mun @sally-mun @fini-mun @werewolf-t33th  @cviperfan and @wildwoodmage​

and don’t worry, if you DO go for it, you don’t have to get as Extra as I did about it XD

9.) 

Look, the meme is about Favorite Movies, not necessarily the BEST Movies, OK?  And for the most part this list consists of films where that division is less meaningful in terms of how I evaluate the other movies on here.  But in this specific case, “Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie”, which is ultimately not all that different from the “Mystery Science Theater 3000″ TV show it spun off from and thus not particularly impressive as a work of Cinema Qua Cinema, makes the cut primarily because it’s a movie I know so well and have enjoyed so often that I can practically recite the whole thing to you by rote; I quote it all the time in my day-to-day life, I think about it often when I need a little smile, and it’s also become my favorite tool for introducing newcomers to MST3K as a whole since it was designed with a slightly broader audience in mind than the more willfully-eclectic series.  And given how much I love MST3K As A Whole, that’s an especially strong factor in its favor.

8.) 

Looky looky, @bunnikkila, we (unsurprisingly) have a pick in common!  I’m sure this is the one and only time THAT’S going to happen on this list. 8D

Y’know, nearly thirty years (and one fairly useless remake >_>) later, I think the thing that impresses me about “The Lion King” is just how much it is still able to grab me emotionally.  Some of that is unquestionably tied up with how strongly I associate this movie with my family, all of whom it became very special to as a Shared Experience.  But I also don’t know of a lot of people who haven’t had that same emotional experience with it, and that to me suggests there’s more going on here than just Nostalgia.  The mixture of Shakesperean plotting with Disney’s signature strength of Character, for one thing, granting the movie’s story an Epic Scope that never forgets the emotional inner lives of its cast.  The music for another, not only its instantly-iconic song-book but also its memorable score, armed with both Big Bombast and Gentle Sentiment.  And the unforgettably gorgeous animation, rendering every last element of its world with believable naturalism and strongly-defined personality.  All of it, together, makes for what I still personally consider the Crowning Achievement of the Disney Renaissance.

7.)

I think, if I had to name the thing I find most lacking in far too many modern Action Movies, it’s Clarity.  They all tend to lard their plots up with a bunch of unnecessary contrivances and complications in hopes of making themselves appear more clever than they actually are, and all it usually does is just dilute the impact of the whole thing.  “Mad Max: Fury Road”, by contrast, is all about Clarity.  I could sum up literally its entire plot in a paragraph if I wanted, because it is basically One Big Chase Scene from start to finish, never really deviating from that structure for more than a few minutes at a time.  And that, combined with its exceptionally well-crafted Action Sequences, means that the full weight of its visceral power hits you full force every time.  But don’t be fooled; that simplicity is not to be mistaken for shallowness.  Indeed, precisely by getting out of its own way, knowing exactly what it wants to do and why, “Fury Road” also delivers a story that is, in spite of what you might guess, genuinely subtle and smart.  Every character is immediately unforgettable and compelling because their role in the story is so well-considered and their personalities all so stark.  The world it crafts feels at once fascinatingly surreal and yet All Too Real at the same time because even its most Fantastic elements are ultimately just grotesque reflections of things the audience knows only too well.  And most of all, it tells a story with real, meaningful Themes that are deeply woven into each of its individual elements, such that the whole thing is deeply satisfying emotionally, but also piercingly Relevant in all the best, most affecting ways.

6.) 

Oh look, another pick I have in common with @bunnikkila!  This must be the last one, right?

But yeah, this is just a legitimately great movie, at every level, in every way.  Stylistically, it is one of the most radically inventive things to have ever been made in the world of Western Animated Movies, gleefully mixing together a vast array of Aesthetics and Techniques that are at once viscerally distinct and yet coherently connected, all rendered with a fantastic eye toward the world of Comic Book Visual Language that keeps finding new and extremely fun ways to play with that instantly-recognizable iconography.  For that alone, I would call it one of the greatest triumphs of 21st century animation.  But then, on top of that, the story it tells is one that is simultaneously Arch and self-aware, delivering some of the most fantastically hilarious punch-lines imaginable more than a few of which are at the expense of the very franchise it is working within...but also entirely earnest, sincere, and emotionally affecting.  It is, at once, a movie that manages to be about The Idea Of Spider-Man in its totality while also being about just one kid coming to grips with who he is, what he can do, and what his life can be.  I don’t know that I can remember the last time a movie so immediately and unmistakably marked itself as an Enduring Masterpiece, but “Into the Spider-Verse” absolutely pulled it off.

5.)

Ordinarily, I would cheat and give this slot to the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy in its totality.  But somehow, the fact that this is about “FAVORITE” movies instead of just what we think the BEST one is compels me to narrow it down to just one.  And if I had to pick just one, it would be the first of the three, “Fellowship of the Ring”.  It’s not necessarily anything that the other two movies get wrong, either.  All three of the LotR movies possess many of its keenest strengths, after all.  For a starter, there’s the keen understanding of how best to adapt the source material without being enslaved to it; capturing many of its most iconic moments while cleverly tweaking elements to make them more cinematic, knowing what scenes to focus on for the sake of more clearly focusing the emotional through-lines of the story, and knowing what scenes, no matter how good on the page, ultimately don’t fit to the shape the adaptation has taken.  There’s also its pitch-perfect casting, each and every actor doing a fantastic job of embodying the characters so well that even as your personal vision of them from the books may differ radically from what is on-screen, they nonetheless end up feeling Right for the part and a strong, compelling presence.  And there’s the deft visual hand of director Peter Jackson, who knows exactly how to craft a Middle Earth that feels at once lived-in and real but also Fantastic and magical.  “Fellowship”, for me at least, thus wins out mostly because it has the good luck of being adapted from the strongest of the three books, the point at which the narrative is at its most unified and thus has the strongest overall momentum.  But also because so few movies have so swept me away with the sense of stepping into a world I have always dreamed of in my mind’s eye, and that’s the sort of thing that can only happen at the beginning of a journey.

4.) 

Now here’s a movie that is literally sown in to my very being.  It’s the last movie my mother saw in theaters before becoming a Mom.  I grew up watching the “Real Ghostbusters” cartoon all the time and playing with the attendant toys; I had a “Ghostbusters” Birthday Party when I was, like, four years old.  It has been my annual Halloween Tradition to get myself a big Cheese Pizza and watch this movie for about as long as I’ve had disposable income to myself.  There is, quite literally, no point in my life where I don’t remember “Ghostbusters” being a fixture in it.  And as a nice bonus?  It is, legitimately, a Genuinely Great Movie.  I realize that isn’t quite as universally agreed upon these days as it was even a few years ago (thanks, Literally The Worst Kind Of Virulently Misogynist Assholes lD; ), but I still feel pretty confident in saying this one really is That Good.  I still find basically every one of its jokes hilarious; even now I could quote just about any one of them and get a laugh.  I still find its central premise, What If Exorcism Was A Blue-Collar Business, a brilliant, almost subversively clever one that takes The Supernatural out of the realm of The Unknowable and into a world where even you, an ordinary person off the street, can in fact fight back against it.  I still think it’s one of the all-time great examples of how to balance Tone in this sort of High Concept Genre Bender, by allowing The Story to be played relatively straight while allowing the comedy to flow naturally from the characters’ reactions to that story, allowing its Ghostly aspects to land as Genuinely Scary (or at least Worth Taking Seriously) without getting too Stern and Serious about it.  And I still listen to that unforgettable Title Song all the time!  So yeah, even if I could be more objective about it, “Ghostbusters” would almost certainly make this cut.      

3.) 

And so we come to the third and last pick I have in common with @bunnikkila, not coincidentally a movie that played a key role in solidifying our friendship, as bonding over our shared love of it was a big part of how we got to know each other on deviantART waaaay back in the day <3

By 2008, I really didn’t think it was possible for a movie or comic or TV show to really become “part” of me anymore, the way things like Sonic the Hedgehog or Marvel Super Heroes or Some Other Movie Character Who Might Be At The Top Of This List had.  And then “WALL-E” came along and proved that to be completely, utterly wrong.  I didn’t just love this movie, I was inspired by it, to a degree of strength and consistency that I’m still not entirely sure has yet been matched.  And to be sure, some of that is undoubtedly because the movie had already basically won the war before I’d even bought my ticket; Adorable Robots In Love is something like My Platonic Storytelling Ideal, after all.  But even setting that aside, “WALL-E” is a movie where even now I can’t help but be keenly aware, and gently awed, at the beauty of its craft; indeed, watching this movie in a theater did a lot to make me better understand why movies work on us the way they do, because I left that theater chewing so much on every last one of its elements.  Its gorgeous animation, the way it conveys Character through Actions more so than language, the dream-like quality of its musical score (even as i type this i get teary thinking about certain motifs), the clear and meaningful way it builds its theme and story together so harmoniously, and the particular perspective it takes on our relationships with each other, with our environments, and with our own technology...all of it speaks to me deeply and profoundly, and it’s no coincidence that I have seen this movie more times in theaters than any other on this list (twelve times, for the record, and I still remember each and every time XD).

2.) 

This one needs no personal qualifications, to my mind.  Yes, I have some degree of nostalgic attachment to it for having seen it relatively young with my brothers and being deeply moved by it then, but it’s not at all like the kind of Nostalgia I have for “The Lion King”.  “Princess Mononoke” is just flat-out, full-stop a complete Masterpiece, not just my personal pick for one of the single-best animated films ever made, but one of the best films period.  It’s almost difficult for me to put into words how great this movie is, certainly in a way that hasn’t been repeated to death by thousands of other smarter people, because no one of its elements quite answers the question of why it is so great, to my mind.  Yes, the animation is absolutely gorgeous with a design sensibility that brings Ancient Mythology to life so vividly that its influence can still be felt today (The Forest Spirit alone has been homaged all over the place).  And yes, the music is hauntingly beautiful, at once capturing the gentle rhythm of nature but also the elegiac tone of Life Moving On.  And yes, the story is an incredible mixture of the Broad Mythic Strokes of an Ancient Legend grounded in all too human Emotions and Ideas about the balance of nature, the full meaning and cost of Warfare, and perhaps most important of all, about how we determine Right and Wrong when everyone involved in a conflict is fighting simply for the right to survive.  But all of those things add up together to something even greater than a simple sum, because each one isn’t just good in its own right but because each element so perfectly reinforces the other.  And even having said all that?  I really could just carry on singing this movie’s praises.  Just...an absolute masterpiece, top to bottom.

1.) 

I don’t imagine any of you are terribly surprised at this, right?  I almost feel like it’d be redundant to explain my love for this movie, given how self-obvious I imagine it is to basically everyone who knows me Literally At All.  But heck, I’ve rambled on this long, why not go all the way?  Because the thing of it is, “Gojira” (to be clear, the original Japanese movie from 1954 rather than its American edit, “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” from 1956) doesn’t just top the list by being a Great Movie.  Though to be clear, it really is.  Flawless?  No; there’s a reliance on puppetry that even for the time can be a bit chintzier than the movie can really afford, in particular.  But brilliant, even so, a heart-wrenching example of Science Fiction Storytelling As Allegory, one that, in a rarity not just for its own genre but indeed for many movies in general, very meaningfully lingers on its deepest, darkest implications.  Many a film critic has pointed it out, and it remains true: the stark black-and-white photography heightens the sense of Implacable Horror at the core of the story, and the way the central Melodrama, a tragic love triangle that carries with it many aspects of Class Conflict and Personal Desire VS. The Collective Good, ties back into the main story is truly beautiful in its elegance and emotional impact.  Still, for me personally, it tops the list, now and always, because it is a movie that affirmed something for me, that the character I had fallen in love with as a child convincing his family to watch a monster movie with him on television to prove his seven-year-old bravery, really was as genuinely as powerful and meaningful a figure as I had always imagined him to be. 

[theparanormalperiodical]

A Short History Of Halloween

It’s the most wonderful timeeeee of the yearrrrrr.

Yep - it’s cold enough in the mornings to put on a jumper, but too hot for it as we reach lunchtime.

That can only mean one thing: October is officially here!

As we hurtle towards the spookiest day of the year, we prepare for the sugar-fest that is pulling on a polyester costume and failing to act your own age.

But pushing the various sexy costumes aside, and looking beyond the hyper kids and greedy teens, the history of Halloween is actually just as interesting as slapping on a Claire’s prosthetic to achieve that flawless zombie look. 

(If that’s even possible.)

Ever wondered where trick-or-treating comes from?

What about the intricate historical cogs of time that gave birth to the tradition of dressing as a sexy cat? Or a sexy catholic schoolgirl? Or a just-as-troubling alternative?

And did you know that apple bobbing has an origin story set to rival most X-Men films?

No?

Don’t worry, my little ghoul - I’ve got ya covered.

Today’s post is going to take you through the basic-bitch history of Halloween, all the way up to it’s modern-day American influences, and look at some of the wacky traditions we do - and do not - celebrate.

So, whether you're getting ready for that partay, or settling in for a scary movie, buckle up.

Let’s get spooky.

It all starts with All Hallows’ Eve

Yes, we know Halloween is actually “All Hallow’s Eve”.

(And yes, we also know that The Exorcist is based on a true story.)

But today we are going to out-edge the edgy kids. We are gonna go all the way back to the beginning of Halloween.

And it starts here, with the Celtic festival of Samhain. Turns out, it wasn’t all that different from the celebrations we have today:

Samhain occurred annually on November 1st, and they believed that this night blurred the lines between the dead and the living. But you can keep your Robin Thicke references to yourself - Samhain meant more than the outdated lyrics of this hit; the blurred lines referred to the seasons, as well.

Essentially, the end of the summer and the start of the winter was literally a time of death. 

And as they relied so heavily on the predictions made by druids – their ‘priests’ – they believed that the spirit realm could be entered during this time, and that the troubles soon to be experienced during the harsh winters could be foreseen. 

To encourage contact with the deities and spirits that would help them prepare for the winter ahead, they had bonfires that would be used for sacrifices to the deities, and wore costumes to ward off ghosts. 

Sound familiar?

And it was from these bonfires that they would relit their hearth fire, officially signalling the change in the seasons.

A bit like the pumpkin spice latte hitting the Cafe menus, again.

So, we’ve established the root of, like, the bestest day evah - but what makes Halloween so intriguing is how much it has been twisted to what we celebrate now. 

Take the merging of Roman traditions with Samhain:

The Romans had this similar celebration - All Saint’s Day. This also occurred on November 1st and was considered a time to honour the saints, so naturally it included some of the Samhain traditions. 

But it’s the evening before that we should be most interested in; the evening before All Saints Day was known formally as All Hallow’s Eve. 

In less mystical terms this means ‘the eve of honouring all those that are holy’.

It was only when the Celts were finally conquered by the Romans that the true merging of the Roman and Celtic traditions occurred. But it was the collaboration of two other Roman festivals together with Samhain that set in place a celebration of the dead that would really create Halloween.

These two festivals were Feralia, which commemorated the death, and Pomona, the goddess of fruit and trees. And so - just like bonfires and costumes witnessed at Samhain - another Halloween tradition was born:

The symbol of Pomona goddess was an apple, and it is believed that apple bobbing was been founded here, forging a link with today’s spookiest night of the year.

This new celebration was firmly set in place by Christianity’s domination overtime, and All Saints Day’s new date of November 2nd became a church-sanctioned holiday for celebrating the dead.

It’s ‘Murica That Makes Halloween

The USA - together with influences from its colonial era - really made Halloween what it is today. 

And in some classic-geography-GCSE terms, is a brilliant case study for the development of the traditions that are still practiced today.

In the colonial era, All Hallow’s Eve wasn’t really celebrated - they were strict protestants, and this was a catholic holiday. But, just like the Samhain celebrations, they focused on the changing of the seasons. 

For example, the main activities involved were play parties from which they celebrated the harvest and told stories of the dead.

But this all changed in the 19th century.

It was when the Irish migrants travelled to the USA that Halloween really began to take shape.

In fact, this is where it got its sugary coating.

Irish migrants brought over new traditions like costumes, and going from house to house to ask for money and food - you can thank the Irish for trick-or-treating.

Yet thanks to this tide of change which included a greater focus on the scarier aspects of the dead, there were attempts to remove the spookiness from this spooky holiday right up until the 1950s. 

And so we turn up at the early 20th century, from which trick-or-treating was revived as a tradition, and it became a fun celebration of the potential ghosts and ghouls that could wander in the dead of the night, just like the one we all know and love today.

We’ve Heard The History - Let’s Talk Traditions 

No discussion of my favourite holiday would be complete without discussing the twisted traditions that make this day quite so special

And we start with probably the most famous: ‘trick or treating’. It all started back when All Saint’s Day was the cool kid on the block. 

In England in particular, All Soul’s Cakes were given out during the parades. But this wasn’t to partake in enjoying the sticky-sweet goodness that still dominates our celebrations; it had more of a charitable meaning back then. 

These cakes were given out to the poor, but the cakes came with a condition: the receiver had to pray to the giver’s deceased relatives. This practice was even encouraged by the Church as it was an alternative to leaving out food and wine to bribe the spirits into not entering the home. 

So, even at its core, Halloween combines my two favourite things: food and ghosts.

Thankfully, this is still central to our modern interpretation of October 31st.

Another modern tradition - or rather, the mascot for the spookiest night of the year - is the Jack O Lantern. 

No, literally, that’s the picture on the Wikipedia page.

But carving pumpkins actually has a much darker origin story than just creating an aesthetically-autumnal candle holder. 

The irish folk tale behind it goes like this: 

A man trapped the devil in a tree and told him that he couldn’t claim his soul (classic saturday night, right?). However, when the man died, he wasn’t allowed into Heaven - turns out he wasn’t a very nice bloke. So, when he asked the devil if he could stay in the alternative dwelling of Hell, the devil threw a piece of coal at him in protest. He took that piece of coal and put it in a pumpkin, making the very first Jack O’Lantern. He used it to try and find his final resting place. 

In true folk-tale fashion, other traditions also claim they were used to ward off spirits from the home, or that they represented the souls in purgatory which relates to All Saints Day.

Either way, it’s pretty damn deathy. 

Like, it fits Halloween. 

Nevertheless, some traditions have been lost to history - and for good reason. 

Most of them are pretty out-dated, and centre around women finding their future partner which was all that really mattered back then. But if you're in need of ‘the one’ cause you are actually in a teen rom com, it’s time to buy some hazelnuts!

Oh and be a dorky-clumsy-totally-relatable-girl that’s not in the popular crowd and you see through that shit but have an obsession for the popular guy and you fall in love with him cause you’re just not like any other girl oh just fuck off. 

Okay - back to the hazelnuts.

Grab a handful, and name them after your potential suitors. So, all the guys and/or gals you like. 

Throw ‘em into the fire, and the one that doesn’t burn to ashes is the one! 

Then again, in other cultures, the one that burns first is the one… 

Well if you don’t trust that all you have to do is peel an apple. 

Toss the peels over your shoulder, and it should show your future husbands initials. Or something less heteronormative. This is also another origin story for apple bobbing - the first to win was the first to get married.

#goals?

There we have it - the historic, the hellish, and the heteronormative.

Who doesn’t love Halloween?

So, now it’s time to hear what you think:

Are you ready to get your Samhain on?

And what tradition are you ready to bring back from the dead?

[trulycertain]

Deus Ex & the Spirit of Noir

Or “it’s not just the venetian blinds and the scotch and the trenchcoat.”

(Look, I might well be rusty. If someone has issues with my history or my summations of these genres, I’d love for them to tell me. Note: I kind of poked at this and adapted it from a conversation with @casie-mod.)

All right, so I’ve been thinking... Deus Ex and cyberpunk in general, for good and for ill, are so utterly influenced by noir tropes. And oddly, despite not being a direct grandson, I think Deus Ex gets the spirit of noir and some of what it was trying to say better than a lot of self-professed neo-noirs.  A lot of people get stuck on the specific aesthetics or tropes without understanding why they're there. DX falls into that trap sometimes, but it also manages some nice subversions and recontextualises them in some really cool ways. 

*puts on nerd fedora and trenchcoat*

Noir heroes tend to be everymen, cogs in machines. Though I think it's significant that a lot of later noir was written and filmed in the Forties, so many later heroes ended up being tangentially affected by the war in some way. Scarred - mentally or physically - men who kept the world at bay through sarcasm and wanted to trust people but couldn't afford to, with a weakness for women they perceived as damsels in distress. With flappy trenchcoats. And usually a liking for scotch. So on. May sound familiar. 

People often think "jazz score" without understanding that writers were telling stories about disenfranchised heroes who were working-class and viewed as shady and who had often left behind more respectable lives, so they had a social mobility other people didn't and were good at moving around unnoticed - which also meant they often interfaced with black neighbourhoods and black servants. That social flexibility is part of why many noir protags were connected with "respectability" which they then had to turn away from - that's why so many are/were cops, or were in the army, so on. It's a bridge between the “respectable” readers and writers, giving them a relateable starting point, and the worlds of the greyer protags. It makes the protag more understandable. 

For Deus Ex, the idea of transition from a respected position/part of the system to an underclass starts with Jensen moving from police to a morally greyer position in the form of private security work (which would be very much an equivalent of the modern PI, hence its use in cyberpunk), and then that transition is completed/intensified by the augmentations. Is that at times awkwardly handled? Hell yes. They can’t seem to decide whether augs are class, race, disability or none of the above, and whether they should be telling a story like that is an interesting, significant question. But thematically, that arc is pretty consistent with a lot of noir, particularly later, more hard-bitten noir. 

A big thing in noir was class commentary and the way rich, clueless clients are contrasted with the weary PIs. PIs move between the oppressors and the oppressed because everyone equally views PIs as trouble and hates them. (The class + hatred stuff is something DX utterly gets right, actually. There is a big reason they went for a cynical “working-class hero” type in the game.) People hated private dicks and still do. Quite often with good reason. Look at the rl history of the Pinkertons, for example. So you may view the protag as cool, but in-universe they shouldn't be, and they shouldn't straight-up be presented as cool unless it's with nuance and downsides. This is kind of where Deus Ex diverges sharply, because most traditional noir protags don’t have superpowers or wear shades indoors, but at least they balance it with his fallibility and the way his augs close doors for him as well as open them. That “downside of all the cool tech” stuff is part of why I love cyberpunk in general.

A lot of people see the snark as this easy part of noir, as much as lyricism. It's cool, I like it, I enjoy snark. They miss that it comes from pain and oppression, and the societal context for what makes someone "hardboiled."

Like cyberpunk, noir has always been class commentary. It's always been about hatred and societal ills and the little evils people do to each other.

Also, a noir protag does not have to be a PI. Several instances of the genre had protags that weren't, but that stereotype came about because the crime comics and stuff with PI heroes tended to sell well (Sam Spade, Dick Tracy) and then be made into films. Those images are the ones that lasted most, but they're not the only thing. "Gravelly private investigator in a trenchcoat" is not required for noir, even if I like it. (I do. A lot.) 

And the trench and gear? In the case of noir, it was often cheap, and often worn-down (*glares at jensen*), and utterly ordinary. It's working gear, not something fancy. It marked them out as separate and a bit rough.

Megan actually both subverts and plays into the femme fatale trope in ways I adore - it's like Eidos almost set out to make that trope make more psychological sense and be less misogynistic. A lot of writers use femme fatale tropes as an excuse to be misogynistic without realising that several noir writers were female, even if they were working under male pseuds, and used this as a subversion of the damsel in distress trope, because this was often the best they could get at the time. And that happened less than the Chandlers of this world, but it did happen as well as male writers doing the "she had legs that went on for miles" thing. Subverting it would be exactly the modern equivalent and the right thing to do. Noir is all about subversion. It walked the line between being a very popular, sellable genre and one the government hated.

(Noir also doesn't have to be a murder mystery. But that's a whole other thing. And it's not just novels, serials, films or comics, it encompasses a whole... thing. It's not just venetian blinds and red lipstick. Those were just an easy shorthand.)  

Here’s my theory: Like cyberpunk, and like a lot of later comics in the 70s and such, noir came about as a symptom of people no longer trusting their government and being terrified of what they saw as extremism and moral absolutes. Noir's heyday was the 20s to the 40s/early 50s, the Jazz Age and the fall of the Weimar Republic + the rise of fascism. And then with later 40s noir... America, pre-Greatest Generation mindset, saw this weirdness and then eventually saw its people dying. Add that to the Depression, Capone scandals and Prohibition basically growing gangsters from the ground-up, and you end up with people still scarred from economic hardship and systemic corruption, knowing that the cops didn't go into certain neighbourhoods, and trying to balance the fact that their mindset didn't entirely match the boom times of the 40s due to war imports happening around them. Noir was a healthy way of dealing with despair and a sort of... systemic "ugh." Cyberpunk and superhero comics kept this root. This idea that when the government and the police wouldn't help, sometimes someone else would, and this idea of trauma making you into a kind of, at the very least, anti-hero.

So this concept of a dark mood and score coming from the background societal oppression, of the exploited coming back as a hero because trauma has given them certain skills and a very particular perspective, of the hero being spat at everywhere they go and having the opportunity to be part of a corrupt system, whether or not they take it... and flappy trenchcoats... in a video game, the modern equivalent of the written-off comics and pulp novels at the time?

Yeah. I like it.

Cyberpunk always plays with some of the hallmarks of noir, but whether intentionally or not, the Deus Ex prequels got the spirit of the thing. It got that noir comes from corruption, and how easily real life can seem like a dystopia. Rather than skate over the oppression to get to the procedural mystery and cool metal arms the way a lot of cyberpunk does, it put that oppression front and centre. And then it chucked some cool wing motifs and an awesome soundtrack and Renaissance motifs in there, too. Of course I was in.

(Also, yes, the devs were waaay into Blade Runner. Most cyberpunk creators are. But somehow, whether by accident or not - I suspect by accident - they managed to tell a slightly more trad-noir story than BR did.)

[morethanonepage]

thoughts on Keanu Reeves Constantine?

y’know this is an interesting question bc i actually have a lot of….if not affection for the movie, at least respect for some of the adaptation choices made. Like the most common line in re: film!Constantine is that it’s a good movie but it’s not a good Hellblazer movie and in a sense that’s right, it’s not – but it’s interesting. A noble failure, definitely.

What I think it hinges on is that it’s an American setting so they went full blown American with it – which is a mistake in my mind bc the point of Hellblazer is that it’s a quintessentially English story, and that’s why every run with an American writer in the comics is meh for me – but in the sense of “American AU Constantine” I think there were some really interesting/clever choices made.

Like starting with their John – Keanu is all wrong for original brand Constantine. His John is broody, he’s brunet, he’s Good At Magic. And comics!John is the opposite of all those things. And while comics!John can be broody, the important thing is the comics themselves tend to undercut that – there’s a lot of kind of snarky takes about John being in a sulk for whatever reason, some of it even from John himself. You get very little of that in the movie, and the movie itself is very TAKE THIS MAN’S PAIN SERIOUSLY about it, so. BUT in a sense that loner self flagellating thing is an American Male Archetype the way comic John has a very English & self deprecating sense of humor, so: ok, I can kinda see it, more as a translation (to American audiences) than an adaptation. 

[READ MORE BC OMG WHY DID I CARE SO MUCH???]

They make John Catholic in the movie, which is another kind of interesting choice – in the comics he’s not anything specifically though I would imagine he would’ve been raised Church of England as likely as anything else. But they kind of commit to John’s Catholicism in the movie, most likely because it has more ~mysticism~ (and the association with exorcism in general) behind it. But it also kind of sets John up as An Other, because it’s the religion of a lot of the second class immigrants (like, the Irish initially, then Latinx Americans, etc). White Catholics have a bit of a different rep, but given that the film is set in LA in the late 20th century, for me it set up more of those associations than anything else. It’s also so much more about the SUFFERING and the MARTYRDOM and the REDEMPTION NARRATIVE, which is not so much a thing in the comics (where John often does/tries to do good things but usually NOT for the explicit purpose of ~cleansing his soul~, so it’s kind of notable/interesting that both American-based adaptations [TV and Movie] focus on that a lot more. It’s may also make more sense as an arc for the medium but y’know) but IS notably a big thing in the movie. 

And the thing about John, even in the comics, is that he’s an Other but Normal Passing – with comics he presents in a very Proper English Man (which is why it’s SO IMPORTANT for me that he starts off on his adventures with his shirt properly done up and his tie right, and then as the day/his bullshit unfurls he gets sloppier) way, he’s white, he’s blond, he’s handsome etc, but he’s also a bisexual mess/working class disaster mage with a progressive bent, and in the movie he’s kind of a traditional American anti hero but also has his own stuff going on. It’s not as well executed as it could be – there’s not a lot of subversion in the film version, which is kind of the point of John – but at least you get hints of his potential sexuality and they go into his mental health issues (suicide attempt, etc) and his smoking, etc. 

So John is an interesting translation – not perfect, but interesting. I would even argue that he’s the weakest point in the movie as a translation-not-adaptation (tho lol baby bear Chas Kramer is up there), bc he’s very basic supernatural protagonist with no flourish. Which is not the case for the rest of the film, which COMMITS to the genre it is and does it honestly very well.

For instance I love their conception of Ravenscar, the mental hospital John has A Bad History with – in the comics it’s got an old, spooky, mad house aesthetic from the 19th century, which fits the comics and John’s history and vibe really well. The movie version goes what I feel is a very modern American direction with it: one of the 20th century industrial monsters, a huge grey building, with the fear of mental health coming from that very specific post-war fear of anything ABNORMAL (including sexuality but y’know). 

The setting of LA is great – a couple of (American) comic writers have given John’s arcs there, probably for the irony of CITY OF ANGELS etc, but I think it’s a really interesting choice/contrast to everything London (where John’s mostly based in comics, tho he does sometimes roam the countryside fucking things up) represents: superficial, modern, bright days, beauty, opulence vs the grey gritty grunginess of John’s London life, etc. So for that to be movie!John’s homebase is kinda neat, frankly, esp because of the cases John gets to work on there. The set design is also great – very colorful, very willing to pull in the florescent glare of a modern city, with the Latinx Catholic touches on the streets (look the votive candles and shrines are SUCH an easy go to for ~creepy urban flavor~ and it’s probably at least a little problematic for this film featuring some other really questionable racial choices I will get to later, but) in general it LOOKS great. Their conception of hell is also fascinating and very well executed imo. 

I also think there’s ONE (1) thing I think the movie does better than the tv show: the setting is WAY more dug into the working class/legit poverty of LA behind the shiny surface Hollywood stuff. The show really only hit that point in the New Orleans ep and even then….didn’t fully commit to it, but it’s SUCH a key part of the comic universe. Like Chas himself (in the show) is pitch perfect but in the ep about his family they’re LIVING IN A BROOKLYN BROWNSTONE which, real talk, is worth millions of dollars. Literally millions. On a cab driver’s salary???? Ridic. Still mad about it w/e w/e. Baby Bear Chas Kramer with his shitty cab and probably shitty apartment, following John around like a stunned duckling, is way more comics canon accurate, probably. 

Rachel Weiz’s character has a lot of potential – they make her Catholic too, to have some sort of connection with John, which is eh, and they also make her a twin, whose sister kills herself at Ravenscar. Given how much John’s early backstory issue are focused around HIM being a twin (whose birth killed both his mother and his (theoretically stronger) brother) that could’ve been a cool thing to allude to, but they don’t touch on it. And Angela (ANOTHER ANGEL THING) is p cool as a character – she’s unconvinced about the ~spooky shit~ stuff until she sees evidence of it, and then believes it, as a normal average human likely would. She’s brave, she asks questions, etc. She’s not just Love Interest tho there’s a bit of that. And anyway I love Rachel Weiz generally, she’s great, could’ve had more to do though.

Tilda Swinton shows up a lot in the gifs and it was a cool choice to cast her as Gabriel – they play up the androgyny and make her less obvious of a dick than comics Gabriel is (though she ends up being…probably more of one, or at least more effective). I think their Lucifer is good too – oily and weird and creepily gentle at times. He also doesn’t get a lot to do, but he doesn’t need to – he doesn’t in the comics, usually, either. 

BUT the racial stuff – the supernatural macguffin that’s supposed to bring about the end of the world is found IN A MEXICAN DESERT and then SMUGGLED OVER THE BORDER to LA to bring about the end of the world, like, who wrote this, Donald J. Trump?? – is generally #bad. But this is something it shares with the show (GOD THOSE MEXICO EPS, I LEGIT ALMOST QUIT THE SHOW BC OF IT), tho at least they had an actual Mexican actress to temper that nonsense. NO SUCH LUCK from the movie – just lots of creepy zombish brown people trying to bring around an apocalypse, super cool.

And not only is meh as a metaphor, to impute such a conservative metaphor into a the Hellblazer Verse, with its infamous/classic DEMON YUPPIES FROM HELL and in general tips toward the progressive/pro immigrant ethos, is BAFFLING to me. I mean maybe more in tune with American sentiments about everything, which I have argued above is an interesting choice, but still, boooo.

Also the fact that John quits smoking at the end of the movie is such Hollywood garbage it almost outweighs the positives. I mostly imagine he and Angela date for like a month, he’s such a bitch when going through withdrawal that she dumps his ass, and then he goes back to smoking/sulking around LA doing bad exorcisms. That’s the real John Constantine, babey!!!

[cskiner]

Barak Marshall’s Umbilical Whiplash

(photo by Carolyn DiLoreto for USC Kaufman)

Barak Marshall is a few minutes late to meet me in the lobby. Not because he was stuck in traffic coming eastward from Santa Monica, where he takes care of his elderly parents. No, he just got wrapped up in some work in his office upstairs. I’ve just sent him an email—a “just making sure you know we were supposed to meet five minutes ago” email—when the elevator door opens. Barak steps out of it and spots me sitting in the corner, mouthing I’m sorry the second we make eye contact. I forgive him instantly. I’m one of many students that require his attention. He is one of few faculty members that actually makes the time, and he’s not even full-time faculty.

Several dancers have gathered in the hallway. Their repertory class starts in a few minutes; the class where we first met Barak. A few of them have just performed excerpts of his work, Monger, at the Laguna Dance Festival. It’s a festival founded and directed by our school’s vice dean—comprised mostly of classical ballerinas performing for old white people, to persuade them to donate fractions of the money they bleed in order to support slightly less classical dance work. Barak’s choreography is far from classical ballet (he’s simultaneously had all the training in the world and none of the training at all, but we’ll get into that later), but Monger is quite a crowd pleaser.

           “How was it?” he asks a group of juniors on his way over to me.

           “They loved it,” one girl volunteers, and the rest echo.

A couple more dancers file into the lobby to prepare for their evening classes, and Barak has the same conversation with each one of them. They all give the same response—they loved it, Jodie loved it, we love performing—but Barak welcomes each answer as though he’s never heard it before. His black hair is particularly mad-scientist curly today, and the curls bounce as he nods in earnest at the students. He’s proud of them, and he already knows that, but he’s making sure they know, too.

Marshall finally sits down to answer my questions, but not until he’s heard updates from all the dancers. I don’t actually have that many questions for him, and I know his answers to these ones. It’s more of a formality, making sure that I quote him directly for an upcoming article. But if I’m trying to answer the real questions, no thirty-minute interview will compare to learning Monger last fall; having enough context to perform the piece required that we spend many hours with Barak, learning about his lineage.

~

He was born into a legacy to begin with: Barak’s mother, Margalit Oved, graced Israel’s Inbal Dance Company as a principal dancer for over a decade. Known for her storytelling, singing, and beautifully generous gestures, Oved was praised by modern dance’s mother, Martha Graham herself. When Oved she retired from the company in 1965, she moved to Los Angeles to teach dance in UCLA’s department of World Arts and Cultures.

Barak always tells us that he grew up there, underneath her drum as she counted the dancers in and out of movements. His blood was steeped in rhythm if his genes didn’t have it already, and the dance studio was his second home. Like any teenager, as he grew up, he rebelled against the thing he knew best, swearing he would not become a dancer..

Barak finished high school on the west side and packed his bags for Harvard, where he studied social theory and philosophy and aimed straight for law school. He didn’t get quite that far, though. After finishing his undergraduate studies, he moved across the country for—gasp—a woman. It didn’t work out.

Barak accompanied his mother to Israel in 1994, when she was appointed artistic director of the Inbal Dance Theatre. SuddenlySix months later, his aunt fell ill. She had helped raise him in Los Angeles while his mother was working, and then returned to Inbal to direct the company.—their bond was strong to say the least. But when she died, the Inbal Dance Company was left without artistic direction. she died, six months after the move to Israel, and Barak’s mother had no time to grieve with a company to manage.[I went to Israel with my mother in 1994 when she was appointed artistic director.  My aunt died 6 moths after we arrived and that is how I started dancing by creating my first work Aunt Leah.  My mother remained artistic director of Inbal. I was appointed artistic director 20 years later]

This is the part of his career that Barak refers to as umbilical whiplash, the part in which he runs desperately hard and fast in the opposite direction of his mother’s legacy, and the harder and faster he runs, the harder and faster he is pulled right back into dance’s iron grip. He was not trained—he knew his mother’s [my father is Jewish, but from the Bronkx, Mew York] Yemenite traditions and his mother’s gestures, he knew how to sing (boy, did he know how to sing), but he had never trained formally in dance. Yet he in 1994, he accompanied his mother to Israel, in a last attempt to keep her home company afloat. He sat in on rehearsals, helping his mother here and there, not doing much but doing his bestsupporting her the best he could. One day, a company dancer caught him mourning his aunt in the studio, and was astonished initially. It turned out, however, that nobody was truly surprised.

He was dancing.

The company dancer watched for a few days and finally confronted him, insisting that he make a work for the company to honor his aunt and heal the wounds of loss. He finally agreed, and she filmed his process in the studio, translating it into dancer-language: one-two-threes and five, six, seven, eights. It was built out of the things he knew from his mother, and his father,a and the combination of his Yemenite and Israeli heritage with his anti-training set him apart from the contemporary ballet aesthetic that monopolized the dance world.

The work, titled Aunt Leah, was a booming success—Marshall’s career took off in the direction he thought least possible. He toured Europe with the company, and in 1999, dance pioneer Ohad Naharin asked him to become Batsheva Dance Company’s first in-house choreographer. Naharin, a contemporary dance giant, is known for his insanity, to put it lightly. His temperament is notorious, and though he may make rash decisions, he does not make wrong decisions. Marshall accepted his offer, choreographing for Batsheva until a severe leg injury halted his course in 2001.

~

It’s important to note here that Barak still does not have any formal training. He didn’t pick up ballet or jazz or modern along the way, a la Wayne McGregor (an artist who went straight to choreography and skipped the dancinge training). His choreography is of the movements he knows: bold gestures and Yemenite exclamations, each imbued with a very specific meaning. For Barak, context is everything. If he’s not telling you a family story with each movement, he’s doing an Israeli accent or showing you how to properly spit at the person beside you. His choreography is laden with rebellion: servants against mistress, women against men. These themes are especially strong in Monger, which illustrates ten servants in the basement of a cruel rich woman, doing everything they can to resist breakdown from begging mercy to spitting in her food. Of course, we as dance students don’t have the same background in social structures, so Barak ends most rehearsals with a tale of life in Israel. Usually, he starts his stories when he can tell that we are tired, overwhelmed with midterms and exhausted by other dance obligations. It’s merciful, but also economic and efficient. We come to rehearsal the next day with eyes slightly brighter.

Barak’s always making sure we’re not hurt. In the entire piece, four small counts of the choreography are especially hard on the knees: he doesn’t make us do those four counts until the week before the show—just a few times, to make sure we can actually do it. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t raised as a dance student, but he doesn’t have that insane twisted voice in his head that prevails in our conservatory. You know, the one that tells you that dancing on an injury is just proving your strength and dedicationself.

Monger is almost entirely an ensemble piece, and almost all of the choreography is done in unison. The movement is contemporary, performed barefoot, with fast and furious gestures (four gestures per one count). Nobody has a solos—Barak just wants to make sure that we’re all ourselves, within the greater narrative.

“I don’t want to see the choreography,” he says. “I want to see you. Show the audience how valuable you are, because you are.”

Dancers are given a literal voice in Monger, and in his other works, Rooster, Wonderland, and And at midnight, the green bride floated through the village square. Besides just the exclamations throughout the choreography (hey!, no!, shh!) there is a microphone center stage. The dancers speak monologues that Barak writes himself, some based on seminal philosophy works and some based on Israeli folktales and some just cheeky banter. He coaches the delivery, asking for accents wherever possible and most often giving the note, “louder. Less hesitant.” In Monger, the texts begin as a pleading last effort not to be let go: Mrs. Margaret, please! It’s not my time yet. I’ll give you anything you want, whiskey, cigarette? Mrs Margaret! And end as a biting fuck-you (there are gestures for that, too): I spit in your coffee. I spit in your food! She wears your dresses! So do I! StudentsWe are empowered through this role as servant. They’re We’re yelling insults onstage—we they never do that. WeThey do pas de bourree, jeté, pose, smile. The women are pushing the men, spitting at them. We are encouraged to make real spitting noises. One girl actually spits by accident, and Barak yells, “good!”

We are not students anymore. We are people, and Barak knows us. He tells me one of the reasons he accepted the invitation to return as an artist in residence this year: he wants to know the students better. He wants to see how he can make the work better for us.

The gestures take a long time to learn and even longer to master. They’re incredibly specific and you have to convey so much meaning with just your hands. My hands are really small, so I grow my nails out because every bit counts. I end up dancing almost too fervently and accidentally scratch my shoulder in one gesture. I break skin, but it’s fine. I could care less about the blood: the work is important. Once you learn the gestures, the satisfaction comes in finishing four minutes straight of intricacy with a final exhale. We all feel the liberation—dancing as a unit makes us more ourselves. It’s even better when we put the costumes on: we wear servants’ clothes, and we put on our aprons on to do the work but tear them off when we rebel against Mrs. Margaret. Barak makes sure that we throw them to the ground with enough fervor that the audience can read the subtext, which is effectively, “you bitch, I hate you.”

One very special evening, when we have learned the full excerpts, two special guests are wheeled into rehearsal. Barak pushes both his mother’s and his father’s wheelchairs. They are smiling ear to ear, and —they Mrs. Oved speaks softly and in a thick Israeli my father is American accents only Barak and his father can understand. He translates their her English, but we’re still hanging on to every word, trying desperately to hear what they think about us. To us, they are legends: we’ve only heard Barak’s fond stories of them, of his childhood. Even now, he speaks of them in awe. Even when they’re in wheelchairs and he keeps his phone on ring in case something happens while we’re in rehearsal.

Barak puts a small drum down in front of his mother, and sits behind a larger one himself. She can’t walk, but she has not forgotten how to drum. He tears up as she sings, joining in for the chorus of an old Israeli folk song. Her voice is beautiful—even with the cracks of age, her renowned generosity prevails. Her smile is enough to make an audience sit for hours. Barak’s ties to tradition suddenly make sense. He is American, born and raised. He has no accent. But he is Israeli.

Mrs. Oved finishes her song, and we all applaud. Her smile somehow grows wider.

“My father is a singer,” Barak says, as though his mother isn’t. He counts his father in and a perfect harmony escapes both of their lips, as though they’ve been rehearsing for weeks. They haven’t—his father forgets the words halfway through the song, and Barak prompts him. I start crying when they return to unison.

We run our excerpts of Monger for them (our official performance is next week, so we’re focusing on the details now) and Barak’s mother asks if he can help her stand, just so that she can give us a standing ovation. I cry again. Barak looks at his mother as though she shaped the world with her own two hands, and we all believe it. Mrs. Oved looks back at him, and we know from her eyes that he has carried on her legacy just as she wanted. It kind of makes you wonder if she planned it all along.

Right before the big performance, Barak catches me in the hallway doing what I do best: doubting myself. I probably don’t know the steps. I’m probably going to mess up the unison choreography, and give myself away by being the only dancer that’s off the music. He sits down on the floor next to me.

“I’ve seen the way you carry yourself outside class,” he says. “You are articulate and you are unique. Promise me you’ll be that person on the stage. It’s not about the steps anymore. You have all that. Trust me, I’ve been watching rehearsals.”

Needless to say, I cry again, but not until after he has left. While he’s talking, I just nod and smile and manage to be my least articulate self.

By the time Barak sits down with me for his interview in the lobby, I already know exactly what I want to say about him. This interview is just for an article I’m writing for the school’s communications department. He keeps apologizing, telling me he’s a little frazzled today, that his mind is in a million places at once. Lately, he’s been spending his free time collecting audition postings for graduating seniors and pulling strings to get us into classes at companies where he has connections. He wants to make sure we end up in a healthy work environment, doing the best repertory in the world.

Despite the scattered mind, he isHe’s more articulate than most of the choreographers I’ve interviewed in the last four years, if not all of them. Not a single like or um escapes his mouth. Even if he wanted you to forget he was Harvard-educated, you can’t.couldn’t.

We finish the interview: all my questions are the same, and I’m worried I didn’t cover enough bases. The last question, the one I ad-lib, is what have you learned from the students during your residency? I ask all the artists this—you can tell when they’re making up their answers to seem humble. Barak’s answer is honest: we devour the choreography, and he feels like he has to keep up and give us more material. He respects us, he sees us occupying space as authors and not just dancers.

I decide that now is the time. I pull out a postcard I found in a museum when I studied abroad in Paris this summer, one I have been keeping in my backpack. It’s a Lichtenstein painting, with a  has a lyric from a very special song that accompanies one of his pieces: the melody haunts my reverie, it reads. , and I bought it expressly for the purpose of thanking him, trying to explain what his piece means to me. Though it has been written for months, I have never found the right time to give it to him—he’s always surrounded with people. I’ve scrawled a written a few sentences on the back that could easily be bullshit, but he knows they’re sincereare so sincere they could easily be bullshit, but he knows me well enough to read them accurately. He scansreads it in front of me while I pretend to occupy myself otherwise.

“This is why I teach,” he says. “You know that. Give me a hug.”

By Celine S. Kiner

[silveragecentric]

Universal Classic Monsters: Complete 30 Film Collection PART THREE: The Mummy (1932) Blu-Ray Review

Up until now, the Universal Monster universe was inspired by classic literature. ‘The Mummy’, however, was Inspired by the public’s fascination with the recent discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb.

The Film:

Ancient superstitions are ripe for cinematic sensationalizing. Here, an ancient cursed scroll is opened, raising the mummified Imhotep from the dead.

Boris Karloff stars as the ancient antagonist, who spends surprisingly little time tangled up in his bandages. His heart, however, is all wrapped up, devoted to the modern incarnation of his past love. Oddly enough, he intends to kill her so that she can . . . live forever? In the context of ancient ritual jargon, it makes a little more sense. But again, just a little.

The finer points of the plot may get a little murky near the end, but what the film does well, it does exceedingly so. The lush, elaborate sets bring the exotic and enigmatic world of ancient Egypt to life. True, the previous films had convincing sets, this film just feels less claustrophobic, as if there is a living, breathing world outside the walls we see.

We also see some solid performances from the supporting cast. Karloff does the best he can with what he’s given. His trademark menacing gaze gets a workout this time around. The funny thing is, Karloff’s undead stare is more lively than that of his leading lady. His co-star Zita Johann almost sleepwalks through her role. Not just when she’s under her intended’s spell, but constantly.

She and Director Karl Freund were famously at odds during the production, so, maybe the hostile work environment contributed to her subdued presence on screen. Still, whatever the cause, her contribution is minimal.

Thinking back, “minimal” is a succinct way to describes the film as a whole. The plot, for instance is thin, but not in the cerebral conceptual style of “The Twilight Zone”. There’s a story to be told, and a fairly entertaining one, it just lacks substance and suspense for that matter.

Conflict is the core of good storytelling. It’s the driving force for the tension, the tension you need in any genre of film, especially Horror. Here, the conflict lacks weight. It feels more like a melodrama in search of scares.

While some may view it as sacrilege to say, this may be a rare instance of a remake improving on the original idea. I’m not saying the 1999 version starring Brendan Fraser was without its flaws. I’m simply saying it knew exactly what it wanted to be, an action-adventure in the ‘Indiana Jones’ vein and that is exactly what it delivered.

Universal knew how to make fright features, they had proven it two times over at this point. So, why the identity crisis? Well, when a movie is called ‘The Mummy’, there are expectations. Is a lurking, bandaged mummy causing havoc an unrealistic object of anticipation?

As mentioned earlier, Karloff spends mere minutes swaddled in ceremonial cloth. A few scenes of a bandaged corpse overtaking unsuspecting victims would have gone a long way to establish the intended tone.

Still, even with it’s faults, there are worse ways to spend your time. Come for the set pieces and earnest aesthetics. For a Golden Age period piece, It’s an amiable effort.

Film Score: 6 out of 10

The Presentation:

The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono mix is substantially more subdued than the previous films I’ve reviewed in this set. You’ll have to turn up the volume even more this time to hear everything clearly.

The picture quality is on par with the other films and may even look better than expected given the film’s age. The restoration experts earned their paycheck restoring this print, the images are lively and beautifully realized.

So, a very nice presentation, I just have to take a point off for the muddled audio.

Presentation Score: 7 out of 10

The Extras:

- Mummy Dearest: A Horror Tradition Unearthed

- He Who Made Monsters: The Life and Art of Jack Pierce (a close look at Make-Up FX wizard Jack Pierce’s career).

- Unraveling The Legacy of The Mummy

- Feature Commentary with Rick Baker, Scott Essman, Steve Haberman, Bob Burns and Brent Armstrong

- Feature Commentary with Film Historian Paul M. Jensen

- Trailer Gallery

- 100 Years Of Universal: The Carl Laemmle Era

Nothing over-the-top, as far as extras but you definitely get your mummy’s worth. Sorry, I had to.

Extras Score: 8 out of 10

We’re only just getting started, ladies and gentlemen. I’ll reappear next week with a review of ‘The Invisible Man’ (1933).

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 18: Blade Runner 2049

So I have finally watched Blade Runner 2049 (which I have been hoarding since Christmas whoops).

Overall, I did enjoy it. I would say I liked it more than Blade Runner, which makes me feel pretty guilty. I hate that I find Blade Runner dated, but I kinda do. In particular, I think it’s too traditional a noir to me--I like the aesthetic of noirs but I think they’re too slow. I wanted more sci fi, less sad lone detective-man very slowly sifts through evidence in between walks in the rain. Also, so many subsequent sci fi narratives have stolen so blatantly from Blade Runner, and expanded on its aesthetic ideas (and its sci fi ideas) that the original starts to seem... simple in comparison. So I do think its very success altering the landscape of sci fi works against it, in a way.

Anyway, 2049 was more... modern, it felt more familiar to me in its aesthetic, and I felt more at home in it.

So I did think it was good. But. I would probably give it a B, B+. There were a lot of aspects I liked but I had complaints too.

Complaints first:

Way too long. It does NOT need to be (nearly) 3 hours and quite frankly, while I felt like the OG Blade Runner was a little slow, too, I think it was slow because it was being true to its primary genre, the noir mystery. This one felt long because hey if we put the words Blade Runner on it, people will sit through anything, so let’s not bother taking any sort of editing eye to the work. It was self-indulgently slow and my mind DID wander. A lot. Including at times when really it needed to be paying attention!

It was very depressing. I don’t need everything to be a comedy-drama but this was very grim and it has left me feeling honestly pretty down. I laughed like 2 times, once when K straight out ran through the wall and the other I’ve already forgotten.

I was very uncomfortable with the whole Rachael dying in childbirth thing. Like... I feel a bit uneasy even with this critique, because I know it does happen (know too well, sadly) but still, this is a narrative. It’s constructed. Someone made that choice to kill her off that way and it just struck me as a choice made for narrative convenience. In other words, a classic fridging. She was an important character from Blade Runner and yet she has NO importance in this film except to be a womb. Killing her in childbirth just emphasizes to me that she’s being used/treated as a means of reproduction: proof that replicants can reproduce, the mother of the mystery baby at the center of the plot, etc., and that’s it. As soon as she’s fulfilled that role, off she goes, because now she has no purpose. The story treated her like Wallace treated that replicant he sliced open so callously and that’s just... honestly upsetting imo. I also think it’s unnecessary because I prefer reading the OG Blade Runner to imply that she had a built in expiration date and so she could have just as easily given birth and then reached that expiration date, and died, which would also tie in that whole expiration concept--which was central to Blade Runner and nearly completely missing from 2049.

I guess I must grudgingly accept that it does make more sense for Ana to be the baby than for K to be the baby. It fits together very well and I do... appreciate that to an extent, all the little clues ultimately coming together: the two babies, the track-covering, the mysterious illness, the ambiguous description of the memory as “real to someone” etc. But like... I really wanted K to be the baby and my first thought was sort of that I’d been cheated? Maybe I just identified with him too much, but it felt like ‘well what’s the point then? Why is he the main character?’ I can answer that: because it IS his story--it’s his radicalization, and even though he wasn’t born, he still is human in some way by the end of the film. But STILL. Another way in which it’s all just GRIM.

Slow as the plot was, I could not always follow it. Actually, it being slow made it harder to follow because I would zone out a lot, possibly when helpful information was going on. Also I thought it lingered on some parts of the story while just straight up skipping over other things.

The stuff I did like:

I loved the aesthetic. They really went all in on the costumes, the sets, the advertisements, the sci fi concepts, etc. Similarly, the world building, especially the expansion of the technology, was great. I also liked that so many of the machines were very 80s looking, even if they were doing very futuristic things (for example, the scene where K has the wood of the horse analyzed shows this off well).

I especially liked the world building in relation to the advancement of the technology. Like.. I’m not sure how to describe this, but in both films, there is a very strong awareness of human nature as it relates to our own inventions, ambition, and hubris. Te replicants were created by human tech companies specifically to be tools, and all of this, all of the plot of both films, is about that technology going awry, being uncontrollable, and yet humans continuing to try to control it. They try to use the replicants only off-world. They try to put fail safes in the replicants. They try to make more obedient replicants. But they never give up on replicants, and in fact Wallace is really expanding them, taking out the fail safes on purpose: longer life spans, working on reproduction. The original problems haven’t even been solved! But we need to get to that tenth world!! That tension between human greed and human fear, that inability to put the toothpaste back in the container even when you really know you should, is so deftly portrayed. I think this is particularly true of the sequel specifically because it depicts the original company going bankrupt and another one taking it on, and the different ethos that goes with the new owner.

Similarly, seeing the technology advance between the two films was really interesting and felt right: that replicants are easier to spot, for example.

I don’t get the “test” in the original film or the “baseline test” in this film but I do think there’s something interesting in the concept of testing the replicants using personal questions. I especially liked that line of Luv’s: “There’s something exciting about being asked personal question. Makes you feel desired,” or whatever it was. And then she tries to ask K a personal question: a sort of replicant flirting?

I’m too close to the viewing experience and so this is just a bit of a thought but I do think the films, viewed together, have something interesting to say about what it means to be human. What’s-his-face’s speech in the first one. The concept of memories, giving them memories to make them feel more real and thus allegedly make them more stable--but then it also makes them more human? Perhaps perhaps? As soon as they exist, regardless of what safeguards are put in--the short life span, the “inability to lie,” the obedience--if they can remember, if they can experience, if they can imagine the future, they are human. I’m not as big a fan of “if they can reproduce, they are human,” (I’d uh rather not put all my own humanity on my ability to make future humans thanks) but certainly the movies consider different possibilities of what human means, and I appreciate that.

And if you combine the K and Joi relationship/romance with the above thought.... wowowow. I mean first of all I am a Sucker for Romance and I did instinctively think what they had was real. But then I wonder, especially given the overall Grim mood/morality of the movie(s), was it not? Was I suckered in this just like K was? In other words, is it possible for a sci fi AI to come to love? Yes. But did this particular one love? I don’t know. She was made to be whatever he wanted! And everything she did and said could fall into that category, right down to giving him a name and telling him he was special. Except perhaps one thing: asking to be erased from the home itself. That was self-sacrifice. That was for his benefit, and not hers. So was it real? And if it was not on her end, was it on his? Like, the concept of a fake human and a fake intelligence, or a human-designed human and a human-designed intelligence, falling in love, and whether or not that’s possible, and if it’s not or only possible on one side, of the synthetic human truly longing for love and seeking out a version of it just as a human-human would, but in the form of just another human invention, created by the same company that created him, is kind of heartbreaking. Very heartbreaking. Does his very longing make him human?

Also as a side note to that K/Joi parallel--he gives her the ability to leave the house at the beginning and the first thing she does is go out in the rain and “feel” the rain, and this parallels, imo, both the death scene of the last replicant in Blade Runner, and K’s final scene in the snow. I felt like he was experiencing the snow like she was experiencing the rain. Do Joi’s increasing number of experiences, including physical experiences (the rain, travel, sex), such as she can have them, make her more human?

While I was disappointed that K wasn’t the baby--I think because I felt like I’d been duped a little bit, made to think I was watching one story, the Deckard/Rachael’s baby coming to consciousness, while actually I was watching a different story, a random replicant’s radicalization--I did like that the real baby was not... a total success as a model. Like, Wallace will have a hard time creating replicants who can replicate. And the replicants will have a hard time using Ana to lead their army. You would expect the first known child of a replicant and human (or replicant and replicant, as I think the case is) to be a little off in some way. And she is! Her immune system is so bad she has to live in a single room for nearly her entire life. That seemed...about right, yeah.

I liked how the movie expanded on the aesthetic of the first: MORE rainy urban California, MORE big glowing holographic advertisements, but also MORE Earth dystopias, dystopian farms, dystopian irradiated Las Vegas, dystopian snow. The various holographic Vegas performances in Abandoned Vegas were particularly inspired. Also the gigantic dead-eyed Joi at the end was (depressing but) cool.

I liked K a lot. Like every other character, he didn’t get much to do emotionally.. but I was into following him through his extensively-long narrative, and I could see how he was changing, becoming less obedient and more human. Also, I do NOT think he died at the end. He was just being emo in the snow.

Mmm that might be it. I can’t think of any other thoughts currently though I’m sure I am forgetting stuff. I am very hungry though, so I am going to eat.

[aion-rsa]

Best Horror Movies Streaming on HBO Max

https://ift.tt/36Q0Lpl

Editor’s Note: This post is updated monthly. Bookmark this page and come back every month to see the new horror movies on HBO Max.

Updated for October 2020

What ever would we do without horror?

So much of our daily life is built around logic and known, verifiable facts, and for some, the rest of the time must be supplemented with comforting reassurances that everything is going to be alright. Well if the last year has taught us anything… that’s not the case. Perhaps this is why horror hounds know the best way to face abstract fears is to confront them head on… and preferably with a screen in the way.

So, with Halloween around the corner, we figured it’s time to get in touch with our illogical, terrified animal brain. That’s where horror and horror movies in particular come in. Gathered here are the best horror movies on HBO Max for your scaring needs.

Alien

“In space, no one can hear you scream,” the tagline for Ridley Scott’s 1979 sci-fi/horror epic promised. Well maybe they should have screened this thing in space because I’m sure all that audiences in theaters did was scream.

Alien has since evolved into a heady, science fiction franchise that has stretched out for decades. The original film, however, is a small-scale, terrifyingly claustrophobic thriller.

Altered States

What if you could tap into the vast swaths of the brain you never use? What if you did and didn’t like what we found? And what if it was an absolute psychedelic rush of a cinematic experience?

All three questions are answered in their own way during Ken Russell’s Altered States, a wild sci-fi thriller. In the film, William Hurt stars as a psychologist who begins experimenting with taking hallucinatory drugs while in a sensory depravation tank.

Yes, he manages to expand his consciousness; he also begins to expand his physical body as it transforms beneath his skin. Or does it? Well that’s yet another good question…

An American Werewolf in London

Arguably the definitive werewolf movie, John Landis’ 1981 horror masterpiece has the single greatest on-screen lycanthropic transformation in movie history… and that’s only one of its appeals.

Peppered with loving references to the werewolf movies that came before it and a few legitimate laughs to go along with the scares, An American Werewolf in London is remarkably knowing and self-aware, without ever flirting with parody.

Read more

Movies

An American Werewolf in London Is Still the Best Horror Reimagining

By David Crow

Movies

13 Must-See Werewolf Movies

By Mike Cecchini

Not enough can be said about Rick Baker’s practical effects, which extend beyond the aforementioned on-screen transformation and into one of the most gruesome depictions of a werewolf attack aftermath you’re ever likely to see. A classic of the era, it still can get under the skin whenever Griffin Dunne’s mutilated corpse rises from the grave to warn his friend to “beware the moon.”

The Brood

I bet you never thought placenta could look so tasty, but when Samantha Eggar’s Nola Carveth licks her newborn clean you’ll be craving seconds within the hour. She brings feline intuition to female troubles. We get it. Having a new baby can be scary. Having a brood is terrifying. Feminine power is the most horrifying of all for male directors used to being in control.

David Cronenberg takes couples therapy one step too far in his 1979 psychological body-horror film, The Brood. When it came out critics called it reprehensible trash, but it is the writer-director’s most traditional horror story. Oliver Reed plays with mental illness like Bill Sikes played with the kids as Hal Raglan, the psychotherapist treating the ex-wife of Frank Carveth (Art Hindle). The film starts slow, unfolding its drama through cuts and bruises.

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Movies

Best Horror Movies on Netflix: Scariest Films to Stream

By David Crow and 2 others

Movies

Katharine Isabelle on How Ginger Snaps Explored the Horror of Womanhood

By Rosie Fletcher

Cronenberg unintentionally modifies the body of the Kramer vs. Kramer story in The Brood, but the murderous munchkins at the external womb of the film want a little more than undercooked French toast.

Carnival of Souls

Carnival of Souls may be the most unlikely of chillers to appear in the Criterion Collection. Hailing from the great state of Kansas and helmed by commercial director Herk Harvey, who was looking for his big break in features, there is something hand-crafted about the whole affair. There’s also something unmistakably eerie.

Read more

Movies

Carnival Of Souls: The Strange Story Behind the Greatest Horror Movie You’ve Never Seen

By Joshua Winning

Movies

A24 Horror Movies Ranked From Worst to Best

By David Crow and 3 others

The story is fairly basic campfire boilerplate, following a woman (Candace Hilligoss) who survives a car crash but is then haunted by the sound of music and visions of the ghoulish dead–beckoning her toward a decrepit carnival abandoned some years earlier–and the acting can leave something to be desired. But the dreadful dreamlike atmosphere is irresistible.

With a strong sense of fatalism and inescapable doom, the film takes an almost melodic and disinterested gait as it stalks its heroine to her inevitable end, presenting images of the walking dead that linger in the mind long after the credits roll.

The Curse of Frankenstein

Hammer is probably best remembered now for its series of Christopher Lee-starring Dracula movies. Yet its oddball Frankenstein franchise deserves recognition too. While Hammer’s efforts certainly pale in comparison to the Frankenstein movies produced by Universal Pictures in the 1930s and ’40s, the Hammer ones remain distinctly unique. Whereas the Creature was the star of the earlier films, so much so the studio kept changing the actor beneath the Jack Pierce makeup after Boris Karloff got fed up three movies in, the not-so-good doctor leads the Hammer alternatives.

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Movies

The Conjuring Timeline Explained: From The Nun to Annabelle Comes Home

By Daniel Kurland

Books

Frankenstein Adaptations Are Almost Never Frankenstein Adaptations

By Kayti Burt

Indeed, between bouts of playing the almost sickeningly pious Abraham Van Helsing, Peter Cushing portrayed a perverse and dastardly Victor Frankenstein at Hammer, and it all begins with The Curse of Frankenstein. It isn’t necessarily the best movie in the series, but it introduces us to Cushing’s cruel scientist, played here as less mad than malevolent.

It also features Christopher Lee in wonderfully grotesque monster makeup. This is the film where Hammer began forming an identity that would become infamous in the realm of horror.

The Conjuring 2

Making an effective, truly spooky mainstream horror film is hard enough. But The Conjuring franchise really nailed things out of the gate with a sequel that is every bit as fun and terrifying as the original.

Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga return as paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren in The Conjuring 2. This time the Warrens head to Great Britain to attend to the Hodgson family, dealing with some poltergeist problems in their Enfield home. The source of the Enfield haunting’s activity contains some of the most disturbing and terrifying visuals in the entire Conjuring franchise and helped to set up a (sadly pretty bad) spinoff sequel in The Nun.

Doctor Sleep

Let’s be up front about this: Doctor Sleep is not The Shining. For some that fact will make this sequel’s existence unforgivable. Yet there is a stoic beauty and creepy despair just waiting to be experienced by those willing to accept Doctor Sleep on its own terms.

Directed by one of the genre’s modern masters, Mike Flanagan, the movie had the unenviable task of combining one of King’s most disappointing texts with the opposing sensibilities of Stanley Kubrick’s singular The Shining adaptation.

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Movies

Doctor Sleep Director Mike Flanagan on the Possibility of The Shining 3

By John Saavedra

Movies

Doctor Sleep: Rebecca Ferguson on Becoming the New Shining Villain

By John Saavedra

And yet, the result is an effective thriller about lifelong regrets and trauma personified by the ghostly specters of the Overlook Hotel. But they’re far from the only horrors here. Rebecca Ferguson is absolutely chilling as the smiling villain Rose the Hat, and the scene where she and other literal energy vampires descend upon young Jacob Tremblay is the stuff of nightmares. Genuinely, it’s a scene you won’t forget, for better or worse….

Dracula Has Risen from the Grave

Hammer Films’ fourth Dracula movie, and third to star the ever reluctant Christopher Lee, is by some fans’ account the most entertaining one. While it lacks the polish and ultimate respectability of Lee’s first outing as the vampire, Horror of Dracula (which you can read more about below), just as it is missing the invaluable Peter Cushing, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave arrived in 1968 at the crossroads of Hammer’s pulpy aesthetic. Their films had not yet devolved into exploitative shlock as they would a few years later, but the censors seemingly were throwing up their hands and allowing for the studio’s vampires to be meaner, bloodier, and sexier.

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Movies

Taste the Blood of Dracula: A Hidden Hammer Films Gem

By Don Kaye

In this particular romp, Dracula has indeed risen from the grave (yes, again!) because of the good intentions of one German monsignor (Rupert Davies). The religious leader is in central Europe to save souls, but the local denizens of a village won’t go to a church caught in the shadow of Castle Dracula. So the priest exorcises the structure, oblivious that his sidekick is also accidentally dripping blood into the mouth of Dracula’s corpse down the river. Boom he’s back!

And yet, our fair Count can’t enter his home anymore. So for revenge, Dracula follows the monsignor to his house and lays eyes on the patriarch’s comely young niece (Veronica Carlson). You can probably figure out the rest.

Eraserhead

“In Heaven, everything is fine,” sings the Lady in the Radiator in Eraserhead. “You’ve got your good things, and I’ve got mine.”

You may get something short of paradise, but the insular world David Lynch created for his 1977 experimental existential horror film is a land of mundane wonders, commonplace mysteries, and extremely awkward dinner conversations. Lynch’s first feature film is surrealistic, expressionistic, and musically comic. The minor key score and jarring black and white images bring half-lives to the industrial backdrop and exquisite squalor. At its heart though, Eraserhead is poignant, sad, and ultimately relatable on a universal level.

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TV

Buffy: The Animated Series – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer Spin-Off That Never Was

By Caroline Preece

Games

How Scorn Turned the Art of H.R. Giger into a Nightmarish Horror Game World

By John Saavedra

Jack Nance’s Henry Spencer is the spiky-haired everyman. He works hard at his job, cares deeply for his deformed, mutant child, and is desperate to please his extended family. Lynch lays a comedy of manners in a rude, crude city. The film is an assault on the senses, and it might take a little while for the viewer’s brains to adjust to the images on the screen; it is a different reality, and not an entirely inviting one, but stick with it. Once you’re in with the in-laws, you’re home free. When you make it to the end, you can tell your friends you watched all of Eraserhead. When they ask you what it’s about, you can tell them you saw it.

Eyes Without a Face

“I’ve done so much wrong to perform this miracle,” Doctor Génessier (Pierre Brasseur) confesses in the 1960 horror film Eyes Without a Face. But he says it in French, making it all so much more poignant, allowing it to underscore everything director and co-writer Georges Franju did right. We feel for the respectable plastic surgeon forced to do monstrous things. But the monster behind the title character is his young daughter Christiane (Édith Scob). She spends the majority of the film behind a mask, even more featureless than the unpainted plastic Captain Kirk kid’s costume Michael Myers wore in Halloween. The first time we see her face though, the shock wears off quickly and we are more moved than terrified. 

Like Val Lewton films, the horror comes from the desolate black-and-white atmosphere, shrouding the claustrophobic suspense in German Expressionism. Maurice Jarre’s score evokes a Gothic carnival as much as a mad scientist’s laboratory. After his daughter’s face is hideously disfigured in an accident, Dr. Génessier becomes obsessed with trying to restore it. We aren’t shown much, until we’re shown too much. We see his heterograft surgical procedure in real time. A woman’s face is slowly flayed from the muscle. The graphic scenes pack more of a visceral shock after all the encroaching dread.

Godzilla

As the original and by far still the best Godzilla movie ever produced, this 1954 classic (originally titled Gojira), is one of the many great Showa Era classics that the Criterion Collection and HBO Max are making readily available to American audiences. And if you want to watch one that is actually scary, look no further.

In this original uncut Japanese form, the movie’s genuine dread of nuclear devastation, as well as nightly air raids, less than 10 years since World War II ended in several mushroom clouds, is overwhelming. Tapping into the real cultural anxiety of a nation left marred by the memory of its dead, as well as the recent incident of a fishing crew being contaminated by unannounced hydrogen bomb testing at Bikini Atoll, Godzilla encapsulates terror for the atomic age in a giant lizard.

Read more

Movies

Godzilla: First 15 Showa Era Movies Ranked

By Don Kaye

Movies

Godzilla 1998: What Went Wrong With the Roland Emmerich Movie?

By Jim Knipfel

And unlike the sequels there is nothing cuddly or amusing about this original Kaiju with its scarred body and legion of tumors. This is the one Godzilla movie to play it straight, and it still plays today.

Horror of Dracula

Replacing Bela Lugosi as Dracula was not easily done in 1958. It’s still not easily done now. Which makes the fact that Christopher Lee turned Bram Stoker’s vampire into his own screen legend in Horror of Dracula all the more remarkable. Filmed in vivid color by director Terence Fisher, Horror of Dracula brought gushing bright red to the movie vampire, which up until then had been mostly relegated to black and white shadows.

Read more

Culture

The Bleeding Heart of Dracula

By David Crow

TV

BBC/Netflix Dracula’s Behind-the-Scenes Set Secrets

By Louisa Mellor

With its penchant for gore and heaving bosoms, Horror of Dracula set the template for what became Hammer Film Productions’ singular brand of horror iconography, but it’s also done rather tastefully the first time out here, not least of all because of Lee bring this aggressively cold-blooded version of Stoker’s monster to life. It’s all business with this guy.

Conversely, Abraham Van Helsing was never more dashing than when played by Peter Cushing in this movie. The film turned both into genre stars, and paved the way for a career of doing this dance time and again.

The Invisible Man

After years of false starts and failed attempts at resurrecting the classic Universal Monsters, Universal Pictures finally figured out how to make it work: They called Blumhouse Productions.

Yep, Jason Blum’s home for micro-budgeted modern horror worked wonders alongside writer-director Leigh Whannell in updating the classic 1933 James Whale movie, and the H.G. Wells novel on which it is based, for the 21st century.

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Movies

How Jason Blum Changed Horror Movies

By Rosie Fletcher

Movies

How The Invisible Man Channels the Original Tale

By Don Kaye

Turning the story of a man who masters invisibility into a horrific experience told from the vantage of the woman trying to escape his toxic violence, The Invisible Man becomes a disquieting allegory for the #MeToo era. It also is a devastating showcase for Elisabeth Moss who is compelling as Cecilia, the abused and gaslighted woman that barely found the will to escape, yet will now have to discover more strength since everyone around her shrugs off the idea of her dead ex coming back as an invisible man…

Lifeforce

Most assuredly a horror movie for a very acquired taste, there are few who would call Tobe Hooper’s career-destroying Lifeforce a good movie. There probably aren’t even many who would call it a fun movie. But for those with a singular taste for batshit pulp run amok, Lifeforce needs to be seen to be believed: Naked French vampire girls from outer space! Hordes of extras as zombies marauding through downtown London! Lush Henry Mancini music over special effects way outside of Cannon Films’ budget!!! Patrick Stewart as an authority figure possessed by said naked French space vampire, trying to seduce an astronaut via makeout sessions?!

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Movies

Tobe Hooper’s Lifeforce: Space Vampires, Comets, and Nudity

By Ryan Lambie

Movies

The Mummy and Lifeforce: The Strange Parallels

By Ryan Lambie

… What is this movie? Why does it exist? We don’t know, but we’re probably more glad it does than the people who made it.

Magic

As much a psychological case study as as a traditional horror movie, for those who like their terror rooted in humanity, Magic may be the creepiest iteration of the “killer doll” subgenre since this is about the man who thinks his dummy is alive. Starring Anthony Hopkins before he was Hannibal, or had a “Sir” in front of his name, Magic is the brain child of William Goldman, who adapted his own novel into this movie before he’d go on to do the same for The Princess Bride (as well as adapt Stephen King’s Misery), but after he’d already written Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Marathon Man.

In the film, Hopkins stars as Corky, a down on his luck ventriloquist who tries to get his life together by tracking down his high school sweetheart (Ann-Margret). She’ll soon probably wish he didn’t bother once she realizes Corky believes his ventriloquist dummy Fats really is magic… and is determined to get him to act on the most heinous of impulses.

The Most Dangerous Game

Before King Kong, Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack released The Most Dangerous Game, one of the all-time great pulp movies, based on a short story by Richard Connell. This classic has influenced everything from Predator to The Running Man, The Hunger Games to Ready or Not.

It’s the story of a big game hunter who shipwrecks on a remote island with an eccentric Russian Count who escaped the Bolshevik Revolution (Leslie Banks). The wayward noble now drinks, studies, and charms his apparently frequent array of unannounced guests, including two other survivors from a previous (suspicious) wreck. The film quickly boils down to a mad rich man determined to hunt his guests as prey across the island for the ultimate thrill.

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Movies

The Most Dangerous Game That Never Ends

By David Crow

Culture

Why King Kong Can Never Escape His Past

By David Crow

Man hunting man, man lusting after woman in a queasy pre-Code fashion, this is a primal throwback to adventure yarns of the 19th century, which were still relatively recent in 1932. Shot simultaneously with King Kong, this is 63 brisk minutes of excitement, dread, and delicious overacting. Let the games begin.

Night of the Living Dead

“They’re coming to get you, Barbara!”

The zombie movie that more or less invented our modern understanding of what a zombie movie is, there is little new that can be said about George A. Romero’s original guts and brains classic, Night of the Living Dead. Shot in black and white and on almost no budget, the film reimagined zombies as a horde of ravenous flesh-eaters, as opposed to a lowly servant of the damned and enchanted.

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Movies

Night of the Living Dead: The Many Sequels, Remakes, and Spinoffs

By Alex Carter

Games

The George Romero Resident Evil Movie You Never Saw

By David Crow

Still visually striking in black and white, perhaps the key reason to go back to the zombie movie that started it all is due to how tragically potent its central conflict from 1968 remains: When strangers are forced to join forces and barricade in a farmhouse to survive a zombie invasion, the wealthy white businessman is constantly at odds with the young Black man in the group, to the point of drawing weapons…

Ready or Not

The surprise horror joy of 2019, Ready or Not was a wicked breath of fresh air from the creative team Radio Silence. With a star-making lead turn by Samara Weaving, the movie is essentially a reworking of The Most Dangerous Game where a bride is being hunted by her groom’s entire wedding party on the night of their nuptials.

It’s a nutty premise that has a delicious (and broad) satirical subtext about the indulgences and eccentricities of the rich, as the would-be extended family of Grace (Weaving) is only pursuing her because they’re convinced a grandfather made a deal with the Devil for their wealth–and to keep it they must step on those beneath them every generation. Well step, shoot, stab, and ritualistically sacrifice in this cruelest game of hide and seek ever. Come for the gonzo high-concept and stay for the supremely satisfying ending.

Sisters

One of the scariest things about the 1972 psychological thriller Sisters is the subliminal sounds of bones creaking and muscles readjusting during the slasher scenes. Margot Kidder plays both title characters: conjoined twins, French Canadian model Danielle Breton and asylum-committed Dominique Blanchion, who had been surgically separated. Director Brian De Palma puts the movie together like a feature-long presentation of the shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. The camera lingers over bodies, bloodied or pristine, mobile or prone, with fetishistic glee before instilling the crime scenes in the mind’s eye. He allows longtime Hitchcock composer Bernard Herrmann to assault the ear.

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Movies

Ready or Not Ending Explained

By David Crow

Movies

Best Horror Movies on Amazon Prime Right Now

By Alec Bojalad and 3 others

De Palma was inspired by a photograph of Masha and Dasha Krivoshlyapova, Russian conjoined twins with seemingly polarized temperaments. There may be no deeper bond than blood, which the film has plenty of, but the real alter ego comes from splitscreen compositions and an outside intruder. The voyeuristic delight culminates in a surgical dream sequence with freaks, geeks, a giant, and dwarves. Nothing is as it seems and an out-of-order telephone is a triggering reminder.

Us

Jordan Peele’s debut feature Get Out was a near instant horror classic so anticipation was high for his follow-up. Thanks to an excellent script, Peele’s deep appreciation of pop culture, and some stellar performances, Us mostly lived up to the hype.

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Movies

Us Ending Explained

By David Crow

Movies

Us: How Jeremiah 11:11 Fits in Jordan Peele Movie

By Rosie Fletcher

The film tells the story of the Wilson family from Santa Cruz. After a seemingly normal trip to a summer home and the beach, Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o), Gabe (Winston Duke) and their two kids are confronted by their own doppelgangers, are weird, barely verbal, and wearing red. But then Adelaide is not terribly surprised given her own personal childhood traumas. And that’s only the beginning of the horror at play. Fittingly, Us feels like a feature length Twilight Zone concept done right.

Vampyr

A nigh silent picture, Vampyr came at a point of transition for its director Carl Th. Dreyer. The Danish filmmaker, who often worked in Germany and France at this time, was making only his second “talkie” when he mounted this vampire opus. That might be why the movie is largely absent of dialogue. The plot, which focuses on a young man journeying to a village that is under the thrall of a vampire, owes much to Bram Stoker’s Dracula as well as F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu from some years earlier.

Yet there horror fans should seek Vampyr out, if for no other reason than the stunning visuals and cinematography. Alternating between German Expressionist influences in its use to shadows to unsettling images crafted in naturalistic light, such as a boatman carrying an ominous scythe, this a a classic of mood and atmosphere. Better still is when they combine, such as when the scythe comes back to bedevil a woman sleeping, trapping us all in her nightmare. Even if its narrative has been told better, before and after, there’s a reason this movie’s iconography lingers nearly a century later.

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The post Best Horror Movies Streaming on HBO Max appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[jonathanbogart]

Magnitizdat: Soviet Aligned Pop and New Wave

Mix seven of seven. The previous mixes can be found here. The YouTube playlist for this mix can be found here. Below this paragraph is the tracklisting for this mix; below that are my notes on it. It’s been a gas.

Bravo, “Koshki”

Klaus Mitffoch, “Jezu jak się cieszę”

Spenót, “Szamba”

Tango, “Na šikmé ploše”

Forum, “Davayte sozvonimsya”

Urszula, “Wielki odlot”

Pankow, “Rock ‘n’ Roll im Stadtpark”

Florian din Transilvania, “Mă simt minunat”

Trick, “Elektronnoto kuche”

Dzeltenie Pastnieki, “Sliekutēva vaļasprieks”

Marika Gombitová, “Prekážky dní”

Grazhdanskaya Oborona, “Zoopark”

Gigi, “Divat a fontos”

Maanam, “Lucciola”

Silly, “Die Gräfin”

Kino, “Posledniy geroy”

Sfinx, “An după an”

Első Emelet, “Amerika”

Aya RL, “Skóra”

OK Band, “Žižkovská zeď”

Nastya, “Tatsu”

Magnitizdat: soviet aligned pop and new wave

In a just world, just about every nation represented here would get its own mix: Poland, Hungary, Czechia, and Russia, to name just the largest pop scenes, were (and are) too capacious to be summed up in the paltry handful of songs I’ve allotted them. But I’m already teetering on the furthest outside edge of my understanding. My grasp of Europe is comparable to Saul Steinberg’s legendary view from 9th Avenue: the further East of the Pyrenees I get the more featureless and notional everything is.

To make things more complicated, although the seven nations (at the time; now 13½) represented in this mix were formally Soviet-aligned in terms of foreign policy and general economic structure, they all pursued different approaches to cultural policy, and those policies changed radically over the decades, and even from year to year. At the beginning of the 1980s, the Soviet Union was perhaps the most officially censorious in terms of rejecting Western influence, whereas places like Poland, Hungary, East Germany, and Czechoslovakia were relatively open to current trends in Western European culture, especially following the Prague Spring of 1968. Then too, one of the necessary preconditions for good pop is money (which doesn’t necessarily mean pure capitalism: state-funded arts education and broadcast media, e.g., made British pop the envy of the world), and many of the Eastern Bloc nations, whether or not they were eager to support international-style pop, were among the poorest in Europe.

Still, life finds a way. Electronic music in particular was taken up enthusiastically by many Warsaw Pact composers in the 1970s, both as a technical challenge and as a path forward into a Communist musical future that owed nothing to the dead traditions of the West. Young musicians in Warsaw, Riga, and Leningrad got hold of contraband records or reel-to-reel tapes (called magnitizdat in Russian, in parallel with printed samizdat, according to Wikipedia) of new and innovative forms of rock and pop, imitated them, and added their own perspectives. And Eastern European nations held their own national and international versions of Eurovision, and broadcast local singers in a variety of traditions, both as light entertainment and as a way to reinforce cultural nationalism.

So although Eastern Bloc pop in the 1980s was often cheaper and perhaps chintzier (or at least dedicated to different notions of cool) than its Western counterparts, there was still plenty of it; but it was also unevenly distributed. My division below is less about population size or global importance (either today or historically) than about what would fit into a single mix. There are six Soviet songs (five Russian, one Latvian), four Polish, three Hungarian, two East German, two Czech, one Slovak, two Romanian, and one Bulgarian. Linguistically, it’s my most diverse mix by far, with six Slavic languages, one Germanic, one Uralic, and one Romance language represented (the runner-up, Melodier, had five Germanic languages and one Uralic). Google Translate is my everything.

All of them are great songs, and most of them are great records as well (we’ll get to the exception), although I doubt anyone actually living in Eastern Europe, either at the time or presently, would group together these precise performers in this way: some were defiantly underground, some boringly mainstream, and most somewhere in the middle.

Most of these mixes have taken 1981 and 1987 as the boundary years: while this one ends with a longish 1987 track as per tradition, the rest of the songs are mostly clustered between 1983 and 1985. Due to protectionist policies (both Eastern and Western), inefficiencies of resource allocation, and the slow-to-arrive effects of glasnost, the new wave (if that’s even a useful term to describe a shift towards 1980s-era modernity in the diverse Communist scenes) rolled over Eastern Europe several years after it had blanketed the West. My early investigations all centered on 1984, and further research still marks that as a pivotal year.

Anyway, here’s what I’ve fallen in love with. I hope you dig it too.

1. Bravo Koshki no label | Moscow, 1985

WIth all apologies to Long Island’s Stray Cats, Southern California’s Blasters, England’s Shakin’ Stevens, West Germany’s Ace Cats, and Barcelona’s Loquillo, the greatest rockabilly revival act of the 1980s was the Russian Браво (Bravo). Formed in 1983 by guitarist Evgeny Havtan, with singer Zhanna Aguzarova signing on later that year, they played 1950s rock and roll with a side order of 1960s ska, with lyrics simple and catchy enough to be universal but subversive enough to get them into trouble. “Кошки” (Cats) could be a children’s song: “Cats don’t look like people, cats are cats,” is the opening lyric. But when Aguzarova adds that cats don’t talk nonsense or care about bits of paper, that’s questionable, and when she launches into some of the most thrilling scatting ever heard in rock & roll it’s downright revolutionary. After the band had self-released their first recordings on magnetic tape, she was arrested for using forged identity papers in 1984, and didn’t release a proper record until 1987. She left the band in 1989 for a solo career, and is beloved throughout Russia as a sort of Lady Gaga avant la lettre, while Bravo under Havtan and a succession of singers has continued to plow their rockabilly furrow to slightly diminished success.

2. Klaus Mitffoch Jezu jak się cieszę Tonpress | Wrocław, 1983

One of the most important Polish new wave bands, Klaus Mitffoch combined punk energy, two-tone nimbleness, and post-punk solemnity in a compulsively listenable and sometimes danceable mix. Their first single, Jezu jak się cieszę (Jesus, I’m Happy; the name is an interjection rather than an address) is a mordant portrait of callow youth that doesn’t think past the next payday, fight, or fuck, and of the system that keeps them that way: the shouty chorus translates as “Get up and be busy and own things/I can’t really do it/I don’t really want to.” A Polish “I prefer not to,” it’s a critique of the capitalist contract which worked just as well as a critique of Communist expectations: the lack of real difference between the oppressiveness of East and West will be an ongoing theme.

3. Spenót Szamba Start | Budapest, 1983

Although I’ve been attaching the tag “new wave” to these mixes, one of the signature sounds of the US new wave has been entirely unrepresented: the beachy kitsch of the B-52’s. Until now. Spenót (Spinach) was a Budapest arts collective founded in the early 80s which only released one single on the rock imprint of the Hungarian state label: “Szamba” (Samba) b/w “Hová tűntek a szőke nőket” (Where Did the Blondes Go). Casio, bass, guitar, and disaffected vocals from Kriszta Berzsenyi (now a costumer in the Hungarian film industry) make for a minimal-funk tribute to proletarian hero Popeye, as the refrain “Everything’s perfectly fine, I’ve got spinach flowing in my veins” makes clear. A late entrance from a mariachi trumpet only adds to the delightful kitsch effect, and makes me grin ear to ear every time I listen.

4. Tango Na šikmé ploše Supraphon | Prague, 1984

Although the island-borrowed rhythms and frontman Miroslav Imrich’s vocal qualities in this early song are rather heavily reminiscent of the Police, in terms of cultural positioning Tango were rather closer to Madness: a ska-pop band that could be goofy or heartfelt depending on the song, and burrowed deep into Czech working-class cultural identity, in part thanks to their inventive and prolific videos. Their first single, “Na šikmé ploše” (On the Slope) is a heartfelt and rather poetic love song on skis. Even after Tango’s dissolution, Imrich has been a consistently popular singer and songwriter in the years since, his work, both solo and in collaboration, ranging from ballads to techno.

5. Forum Davayte sozvonimsya no label | Moscow, 1984

A Russian synthpop band who owed nothing to such English decadents as Human League or Depeche Mode, Форум was fronted by singer Viktor Saltykov, who had previously sung with rock band Manufactura, and anchored by synth wizard Alexander Morozov. The video for Давайте созвонимся (Let’s Call Each Other), from an early television appearance, has become a minor internet classic of kitschy Soviet aesthetics, but a google of the lyrics reveals as thoughtful and sensitive a song about love under modern technological conditions as anything Gary Numan or Scritti Politti ever recorded. Forum’s debut album wouldn’t see official release until 1987, by which time a lot of Russian pop had caught up to them.

6. Urszula Wielki odlot Polton | Lublin, 1984

Perhaps Poland’s most prominent female rock star for the last forty years, Urszula Kasprzak has recorded in a variety of styles, from hard rock to dance-pop; but her 1984 album Malinowy król (Raspberry King), recorded with members of prog band Budka Suflera, is a minor masterpiece of cool, reflective synthpop. “Wielki odlot” (The Great Departure) was the leadoff track and the album’s lowest-charting single, but I love its stately swell and the apocalyptic  lyrics (or maybe it’s just about emigration, which is another form of apocalypse). I’m looking forward into digging around into the rest of Urszula’s discography.

7. Pankow Rock ’n’ Roll im Stadtpark AMIGA | Berlin, 1983

East Germany probably had the most thoroughly Westernized and extensive pop scene in the whole Eastern Bloc — only natural, given its proximity and exposure to West German media. But child star Nina Hagen had to leave East Berlin to help found the Neue Deutsche Welle: East Germany preferred shaggy 70s rock even as icy synths overran the NATO countries. Pankow, formed in the eponymous suburb of East Berlin, was a case in point: definitely a new wave band, they still clearly adored old-fashioned boogie rock. “Rock ’n’ Roll im Stadtpark” (Rock ’n’ Roll in the City Park) is an anthem of Communist rock (even the shouted refrains are collectivized): dancing to rock & roll in the park is better than bourgeois disco or high-priced cinema, because it’s free. Of the people, by the people, for the people, oh yeah.

8. Florian din Transilvania Mă simt minunat Electrecord | Bucharest, 1986

The hermetic and impoverished Romanian scene, tightly controlled by Nicolae Ceaușescu’s Maoist-modeled authoritarian government, was the slowest of the European Communist nations to catch up to the present of the 1980s: officially supported music tended to be folkloric, balladic, and at its most up-to-date, hippie-era hard rock. Mircea Florian was one of the grand exceptions: beginning as a mid-60s folk-rocker in the mold of Dylan and Cohen, and maintaining a parallel interest in electronics and modern composers like Stockhausen and Nono, he moved through many progressive, electric, and Eastern-influenced musical phases over the next twenty years, often butting heads with the regime. His last great record, 1986’s Tainicul vîrtej (The Secret Swirl), released just before his defection to West Germany, was a summation of his folk- and art-rock past and his new-wave present. This opening track “I Feel Great,” is a statement of gleeful modernism, the lyrics an expression of bucolic alienation while the synthesizers and drum machines wander off on prog-rock solos before being recalled to robot rhythms.

9. Trick Elektronnoto kuche Balkanton | Sofia, 1985

If the Romanian rock scene was impoverished, its Bulgarian counterpart was even more so. Trick was a vocal group — two women, one man — put together out of music school in frank imitation of Western acts like ABBA, Boney M, or even (if the record sleeves are any indication) Tony Orlando and Dawn. But this cut from their first LP, “Electronic Dog,” was produced by the young, ambitious Kristian Boyadzhiev to a hypermodern sheen: if the girls are still essentially singing disco harmonies, at least the music has heard of ZTT. After release, the song was suppressed by Bulgarian state media on the grounds that the goofy lyrics and synthesized dog barks were making a mockery of Bulgarian electronics. But today, it sounds like it might predict Eastern European trance.

10. Dzeltenie Pastnieki Sliekutēva vaļasprieks no label | Riga, 1984

The underground new-wave scene in Latvia was apparently the most active and prolific in the Soviet Union outside Mother Russia: the Baltic seaport of Riga, as one of the USSR’s few access points to global culture, saw bands like Pērkons, NSRD, and Dzeltenie Pastnieki making waves even as their magnetic-tape recordings were suppressed by the Soviet authorities and not released for decades. I chose this song by Dzeltenie Pastnieki (Yellow Postmen) not because it’s exceptionally better than the rest of their material, which is all pretty great, but because its combination of electronic loops and sensitive guitar sounded surprisingly to me like the Postal Service. The pitch-shifted vocals, sure, sound more like “The Laughing Gnome,” but that’s no deal-breaker.

11. Marika Gombitová Prekážky dní Opus | Bratislava, 1984

Probably the biggest Slovak pop star of the era, Marika Gombitová had been well-known in the eastern half of Czechoslovakia since 1977, when she sang leads for the popular rock band Modus. This synthpop gem (Daily Obstacles) from her fifth album, the unselfconsciously-titled No. 5 (it was her first stab at singing to synthesizers), uses sporting metaphors to talk about desires that slip forever out of reach, the evocativeness of which imagery would not have been lost on a contemporary television-watching audience: Gombitová had been confined to a wheelchair, paralyzed from the shoulders down, following a car crash in 1981. Her marvelous voice, thin but strong, reminds me of Cyndi Lauper’s: and the gorgeous production, with its slippery bass and a haunting electronic solo in the middle eight, makes this maybe my favorite song in this mix.

12. Grazhdanskaya Oborona Zoopark no label | Omsk, 1985

Here’s that not-great record, meaning only that it’s extremely lo-fi, so much so that the tape hiss and room tone plays practically an aesthetic role, turning a simple rock ballad into a fuzz-pop gem that could sit side-by-side with contemporary work by the Beat Happening or Hüsker Dü. Гражданская Оборона (Civil Defense) was the psych-rock project of Siberian-born Yegor Letov; after their first magnetic tape, containing “зоопарк,” was recorded, band members were institutionalized, their subversive attitudes having been dutifully reported to the authorities by the guitarist's mother. That subversiveness isn’t hard to detect in this song, in which Letov dreams of finding other crazy people (like him) with whom he can plot an escape from the zoo of contemporary life.

13. Gigi Divat a fontos Start | Budapest, 1985

Nobody on the Internet seems to know anything about Gigi, not even whether the name is of a performer or a group. The writing credit on the Hungarian compilation LP where “Divat a fontos” (Fashion Matters) appeared is to “Gigi Együttes,” which latter word just means Ensemble. But a bunch of people on the Internet, some in Hungarian, some in English, and some in Polish, have warmly praised this song, an aerobic synthpop jam that combines the best of Kim Wilde and Olivia Newton-John. It’s apparently all that this Gigi (the thirty-first entity of that name on Discogs) ever recorded, but it’s enough.

14. Maanam Lucciola Polskie Nagrania Muza | Kraków, 1984

The post-punk band Maanam, on the other hand, are legends of Polish rock, with dozens of records and a rabid fanbase: one of the most successful and important Eastern European bands of the decade. Lead singer Kora (Olga Jackowska)’s vocal style owed little to Anglophone precedent, digging deep into Slavic and Polish modernism, even when, as here, the most frequent word in the song is the Italian woman’s name of the title. In “Lucciola,” Kora dispassionately portrays a man searching for the titular woman in the night wind, while the band’s brawny Gang of Four funk motorvates right along regardless.

15. Silly Die Gräfin AMIGA | Berlin, 1982

Probably the most interesting East German rock band of the 1980s, Silly was centered around the vocal performances of Tamara Danz, who could be kabarett-outrageous in one song and luminously synthpop-tender in the next. “Die Gräfin” (lit. The Countess, but also slang for any stuck-up woman) is a funk-rock vehicle for her gift for satirical vocal caricature, as she mocks the decayed German aristocracy from a victorious proletarian point of view. Not that Danz was a strict ideologue: in 1989, she joined other East German musicians in demanding greater freedom, in protests that helped lead to the collapse of the Communist consensus. She died in 1996 of breast cancer, far too young.

16. Kino Posledniy geroy AnTrop | Leningrad, 1984

The only Russian band represented on this mix whose music was officially released within the era under consideration, Кино (Cinema) were no less skeptical about the Soviet system than their peers, just luckier in that they hooked up with the independent Leningrad-based AnTrop label, which gave them cover for sarcastic, despairing songs like Последний герой (Last of the Heroes), in which the familiar 80s theme of nuclear annihilation gets another airing, and East and West turn out to be not so different after all.

17. Sfinx An după an Electrecord | Bucharest, 1984

When Mircea Florian was one of the leading lights of Romanian prog in the 1970s, one of his few competitors in the field was the band Sfinx (Sphinx), formed in the mid-60s to play Western-style pop/rock. In the following decade, they grew more ambitious, taking cues from Yes, King Crimson, and Genesis, the last of whom, in their 80s incarnation, is a reference point here. “An după an” means Year After Year, and even though it was only their second LP (they were constantly running afoul of the Romanian censors), it was occasion for a wistful look back over the last twenty years.

18. Első Emelet ‎Amerika Start | Budapest, 1983

Perhaps the most popular Hungarian rock band of the early 80s, Első Emelet (First Floor) was formed from the remnants of several less fortunate acts which imploded around 1982. With a bright, energetic sound, witty lyrics by songwriter Péter Geszti, and an irreverent comic sensibility to their visual presentation, they were just the kind of band that would have been a lock to appear on MTV if they weren’t from a Communist nation. In fact, they did anyway — one of the television screens in Dire Straits’ “Money for Nothing” is playing an Első Emelet video. Their first single, “Amerika” is a terrific satire of that consumerist paradise, rendered with all the plastic pomp the subject deserve.

19. Aya RL Skóra Tonpress | Warsaw, 1984

One of the greatest long-running European indie-rock bands, Aya RL (for Red Love) formed when Russian keyboardist Igor Czerniawski and Polish singer Paweł Kukiz met in Warsaw. “Skóra” (Skin), their biggest hit and most well-loved song (I dare you to get that wordless chorus out of your head), is somewhat unrepresentative of their more psychedelic and intellectual work — but it’s a great song, a portrait of love despite the turmoil and violence of the heavily politicized street culture of Warsaw in the 1980s.

20. OK Band Žižkovská zeď Supraphon | Prague, 1982

If you didn’t know anything about Eastern Bloc music in the 1980s and relied only on what the Western media of the time showed you, you might expect it all to sound like this: icy, measured, foreboding. In fact, “Žižkovská zeď” (The Zizkov Wall) is just about the slowest and coldest song in Czech synthpop act OK Band’s repertoire: most of it is much cheerier and romantic. But I really dig its coldwave vibes and the sound of Marcela Březinová’s voice singing about the awful feeling of seeing your name written in graffiti by an unknown hand.

21. Nastya Tatsu no label | Sverdlovsk, 1987

Thanks no doubt to my own global position — in the (allegedly) democratic West — I’ve been focused throughout this mix on how the music of Communist Europe responds to or relates to or recalls its Western counterparts. But with “Tatsu,” the gaze shifts not West, but East. Nastya, a band formed on the border of Europe and Asia, and named after its frontwoman, singer, composer and poet Anastasia Polova, was fascinated with Japanese folklore, history, and mythology. The Tatsu of the title is both a Japanese child left for dead in World War II (that’s where the bits in English come in), and a mythological dragon-god protecting islands in the Pacific. It’s an amazing song, the centerpiece of an amazing album, and the fact that it only circulated as a bootleg tape for a decade before being officially issued in the mid-90s is the strongest indictment of late-Soviet cultural policy I know. I say that as a Communist.

That’s it, that’s all the mixes. For now, anyway. Thanks for reading and listening and sharing and liking. I’ve got other projects to keep me busy; I’ll try to mention them here from time to time.

[thecounterplan]

A Reply to Rod Dreher on Graduate School in Literature

by Brice Ezell

I’ll be the first to tell anyone: quite frequently, graduate school in the humanities sucks. With scant few exceptions, you’re typically overworked and underpaid for the better part of five to eight years, after which you’re thrust into a bloody fortune’s wheel of a job market, if you even want to remain in academia at that point. Choosing to go to and, more importantly, remain in graduate school is a difficult decision, one not to be taken lightly. It is not simply pressing pause on life if you don’t know what you want to do career-wise, nor is it just an extension of an undergraduate degree. And in the case of English, my chosen field, pursuing a graduate degree like a PhD is not simply a pleasurable exercise in “loving literature.” 

Rod Dreher, a columnist for The American Conservative, emphasized in a recent post that one should especially avoid graduate school if they love literature. He excerpts a big chunk of a Quillette interview with Tony Tost, who earned his PhD from Duke University in 2011 and went on to build a successful career as a poet and a screenwriter. Although Tost describes himself as left-leaning, the conservative Dreher – most recently famous for advocating for a semi-reclusive form of communal Christian life called “The Benedict Option” to survive a “post-Christian nation” – finds in Tost’s account of academia a clear warning about the study and appreciation of literature. 

First, a qualification: I’m pursuing my PhD in English at a major R1 university in the United States. While I of course have limited experience in academia’s upper echelons so far, I do know the state of the discipline well enough to comment on Tost’s observations. In many cases, Tost provides salient criticisms about the functioning of the academy. For instance, in describing his working-class, non-prestigious undergraduate education, Tost recalls, 

This is an extreme example, but at my first department function at Duke after being accepted as a doctoral student, a prominent professor asked me where I went to undergrad. I told him Green River Community College and College of the Ozarks. He looked me up and down, then turned away and simply didn’t speak to me again my entire six years in the program. That wasn’t typical. But it did feel a bit symptomatic. 

Tost’s language here veers toward being contradictory: at first, this professor is an “extreme example,” not “typical,” but in the end he is somehow “symptomatic.” I would relax Tost’s many qualifications of this brief encounter: it is 100 percent true that the academy, especially in its prestigious Ivy league hubs, frequently looks down on scholars from working-class backgrounds, or at the very least views those working class backgrounds as a thing to “overcome” with an advanced degree. Numerous studies (here’s one) show that top-tier academic institutions cull from a sliver of similarly elite institutions when hiring tenure-track professors. Tost definitely picked up on something in that interaction. 

There is also truth in Tost’s claim that, “[a]t its worst […] academia struck me as a bunch of privileged people ensuring their cultural status.” Particularly at elite universities like the one which granted Tost his PhD, there is an undeniable element of class replication. When Tost writes, 

Many, however, seemed to be experts at positioning themselves within the newest intellectual trends. Many seemed like they’d been cultivating their academic careers since middle school and now were armed with impeccable credentials and tons of entitlement and very little imagination, creativity, or curiosity. None struck me as any more gifted than the brighter working class students at my prior schools. They just had better funding and better connections. 

he does accurately describe certain members of the academy. Quite often, graduate students are encouraged to perfectly craft an “intervention” into a field – meaning a viewpoint or argument which breaks, ideally radically, from previous scholarly conversations on a given subject. Dissertations and scholarly articles should of course contribute new things to existing discourses, but there can arise out of this fixation on “intervening” a prizing of novelty for novelty’s sake. Trend-chasing, which is to some extent inevitable in a winnowing job market, can produce short-sighted scholarship. (Speaking of the job market, Tost also accurately identifies the difficult prospects for PhD graduates, noting that two of his colleagues from his PhD cohort don’t yet have full-time academic employment.)

Tost clearly took a great deal from his time at Duke, even though he sees plenty of places where the academy has a long way to improve. By and large – and this is true for even those who manage to find some permanent academic employment – this is the experience of most people who earn the PhD. The still-existing language of the “ivory tower” of academia doesn’t at all capture how most professionals in the discipline see the institution(s) in which they work. Every year at the Modern Language Association (MLA) convention, the core gathering for scholars and teachers of English and languages in North America, there are numerous panels about the problems with the academy, and what should be done to rectify them.

However, in detailing his problems with academia, Tost ends up providing grist for the mill that Dreher and numerous other conservative thinkers have been running for quite some time now. Based on the Quillette interview, I imagine that Tost and Dreher would disagree on most things when it comes to culture and politics – Tost, for instance, is critical of the politics of his undergraduate institution, the highly conservative College of the Ozarks, which I’m sure Dreher would find fine if not exemplary for a modern university. But when it comes to the Canon, Tost and Dreher seem to be in agreement.

For Tost, pursuing undergraduate and then graduate degrees in literature derived from a feeling he had at age 18, when he “discovered that books and films and art understood me better than my family did and I wanted to maintain that spiritual intoxication for the rest of my life.” At the College of the Ozarks he read, among others, “William Butler Yeats, Flannery O’Connor, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Emily Dickinson, Faulkner, Hemingway” – in other words, a who’s who of great literary figures in the modern canon. Following his undergraduate degree Tost then went on to get his MFA in poetry at the University of Arkansas. He was first impressed by what he felt were the excellent Southern writers in the program, but after awhile those writers – and Dreher puts emphasis on this summary – “started getting replaced by writers who were more slick, more credentialed, more politically astute, less problematic but also infinitely less interesting than the generation that preceded them.”

This shift, for Tost, was replicated at Duke. Dreher also boldfaces this extended quotation from the interview: 

So I think my issues are less with Duke or that particular English department and more with this emerging academic generation, which to me seems to double-down on the older generation’s worst trait (ideological certainty) while skimping out on its greatest strengths (genuine erudition and intellectual curiosity). As an academic, I generally felt like as soon as the older professors retired, I was going to be surrounded by people who all read the same ten theorists and who uniformly had pretty banal tastes in literature and who were all frothing to cancel and leap-frog each other into eternity and/or tenure.

Tost recounts one specifically example of this trend – though the professor in question is not named – in this way:

I remember the head of the English department giving a talk about his new ambitious post-colonial literary theory, which was elegantly presented and name-checked all of the right theorists and fused cutting edge notions of the subaltern and post-human aesthetics, etc. And then at the end he asked us if we knew any books that would fit his theory. Apparently, he hadn’t found any yet. As someone for whom books and art have been a lifeline, I was astounded. The art itself simply didn’t matter.

From this narrative Dreher comes to a few conclusions. Breaking them down, they are as follows: 

1. “Ideology — left wing or right wing — is the death of art, of beauty, of wisdom, and of the curiosity that leads to these things.”

2. “Tost’s story” is about “interesting old writers being abandoned for lesser PC ones.” Dreher provides his own example of this happening when he writes, 

I was reminded of a conversation I had at Cambridge University this past summer. I met someone there who told me that the entire university is about to undertake an initiative to consider how it can “decolonize the curriculum.” What does this mean in practice? If the decolonizers are successful, they will throw out, say, Descartes, Rousseau, and Kant and replace them with African philosophers of equal stature. Who don’t exist, because Africa has not had a 2,000-year-old formal philosophic tradition, but whatever. 

 […] a great and old university like Cambridge [appears to be] cast[ing] aside the giants of Western Civ for the sake of political correctness […]

There is a twofold problem here. Tost’s account of his time in graduate school consists of massive generalities between “old” and “young” generations of scholars. This vagueness allows Dreher – who, again, is not a political compatriot of Tost’s – to insert his own political reading of the academy into this narrative, thereby furthering the longstanding “colleges are being too PC” narrative. On my reading of the interview, I can’t say that Tost would grant Dreher his interpretation wholesale, but there does appear to be overlap enough that they might share some common talking points.

However much Tost gets right about the academy, his generalizations allow people like Dreher to get things very, very wrong in turn. Tost himself, however, has his own slip-ups. Clearly, Tost is a primary text guy, which is perfectly fine – there is lots of scholarship still in that vein. But in characterizing his department head’s theory talk as a failing of scholarship, he misunderstands what the modern academy is set up to do when it comes to literary study. Not everyone needs to always be in the primary texts in the way that Tost clearly wants literary scholars to be. Some folks specialize in theory, and that is fine. (I’m not sure what made Tost choose Duke as his home for graduate school, but given that he’s clearly not enamored by theory, I find that school an odd move for him, given that it’s widely known as a great place to study theory.) I have been to numerous theory talks in which literary texts are referenced but not deeply read in the context of the talk; done right, those lectures can be as enlightening as a close reading of The Countess Cathleen. There are numerous avenues for traditionally-minded scholars like Tost to pursue their research and writing – I just spent a week at a conference devoted to a canonical modernist poet, consisting largely of lectures which hew more closely to close reading than to the theory that Tost finds too distant from the art it studies. While PhD students should have a solid baseline understanding of theory, being a graduate student does not mean signing up to only cite and read theory.

Still, Tost’s mistake pales in comparison to what Dreher attempts to do in his American Conservative piece. The use of “ideology” as a cudgel is a classic conservative move here, one that is woefully inadequate in responding to those who wish to challenge, expand, or, yes, decolonize the canon. (A recent graduate of my PhD program in English wrote an excellent article in The Los Angeles Times on “decolonizing the syllabus” that’s worth a read.) Ideology refers to those beliefs which structure everyday life; per the now-classic joke, ideology is the “water we’re swimming in,” the views which you hold without thinking critically about them. I can think of no better way to describe a view in which a canon of largely male, largely white western authors – who represent but one segment of a large global population – are the “real” literature than “ideological.”

If you took what Dreher and other conservatives say about the canon at face value, you’d think that literature professors, through a painstaking and rigorous process, compared the works of “great books” authors like Shakespeare, Dostoyevsky, and Hemingway to works by non-white, non-American or European authors and through sound reasoning and academic research determined which books are canon-worthy and which aren’t. The canon wasn’t formed by anything close to a process like that one. The Western canon which we have received has been formed by traditions of scholars, public intellectuals, and other figures deeming people important in particular times, in particular cultural contexts. Sometimes, a writer or thinker makes a splash in an artistic movement or philosophical trend at a given time which enables them to take off and become a permanent part of their cultural milieu. Put simply, how authors become “canonical” or “important” is not through a tried-and-tested scholarly process, but rather through a series of ad hoc, culturally contingent factors which are then filtered through scholarly back-formations like canons, which are themselves driven by culturally specific assumptions. Strip the centuries-long academic and popular baggage from Shakespeare, and it’s not immediately obvious why he over the dozens of other Early Modern playwrights should be the one that every single schoolkid across the English-speaking world is expected to read. I love Shakespeare; contrary to Tost’s description of the academy, I have taken numerous courses in Shakespeare as a graduate student, and by the end of my coursework I’d read over half of the Bard’s plays quite closely. But part of being a scholar is questioning one’s own methods and practices, and those of the broader academic community, meaning that I shouldn’t just be reading individual Shakespeare plays. I should also be asking why Shakespeare is who he is in English scholarship, and how he came to be here. The ideological thing to do would be to simply say, “Shakespeare’s canonical, I’ve obviously got to read him.”

The canon has been interrogated for many decades now, as it should be. When Dreher condescendingly and presumptuously dismisses non-canonical writers as “lesser PC” authors, he ignores that scholarship which runs against the canonical grain has helped expose important scholarly works that fall outside of the standard Western canon, which in many cases offer valuable insights that predate similar insights in Western thought. To list just one example: in the standard history of philosophy, it is now widely taught that philosophers from the Middle East – the Muslim thinker Averroes in particular – are largely responsible for the transmission of Aristotle’s thought into the West. Similarly, the Muslim mathematician and scientist Avicenna helped lay out important groundwork in medicine, logic, and physics in the Middle Ages. In India the Cārvāka darsana of Indian philosophy (which goes as far back as the sixth century BC) advanced and foreshadowed what would later be perceived as radical empiricist and materialist views in the West when David Hume argued for them in the eighteenth century. I could go on.

Dreher doesn’t just falsely assume that the canon’s value is unquestioningly obvious; he also misrepresents what it means to challenge the canon, and to re-frame how it is taught to include historically marginalized voices. “Decolonizing the syllabus” does not mean it is morally wrong to teach James Joyce in an English class, or Descartes in a philosophy course. Obviously, reading those two authors is particularly important and unavoidable if you’re in certain fields – Irish studies and modernism for the former, philosophy of mind and epistemology for the latter. But any professor who claims to value free thought and unique scholarship should welcome work which upsets dogmatic claims about canonicity or “great books.” The idea that the greatness of any “great book” is obvious and requires no justification, and that no other voices could be brought in to be conversant with that text, is as ideological – and I’d argue even more ideological – than the straw-man “PC” beliefs that Dreher rejects. No one is calling to throw out whole traditions of thought wholesale; there is not a single philosophy department in the West which has “thrown out” major thinkers like “Descartes, Rousseau, and Kant.” To suggest otherwise is absurd.

So Dreher is right in one very small sense in his headline: loving literature does not mean you should pursue an MA and/or a PhD in literature. Those degrees are for people who intend to professionalize their relationship to literature in particular ways. Many of those ways involve not focusing primarily on close reading of texts, but on philosophical and theoretical discourses which operate at a meta-textual level – which is, to be sure, an unusual way of thinking about literature for most people, especially non-academics. But you can pursue an English PhD while still loving literature. I’d say my appreciation for the written word has enhanced substantially since beginning my PhD, where I’ve been exposed not to a single, ideologically rigid view of literature, but in fact a wide range of reading practices, some of which look a lot like what Tost prefers in his scholarship. The academy’s flaws are myriad, but “PC culture” and knee-jerk “cancelling” of canonical authors is not one of them. If people like Dreher want to talk about people capitalizing on trends, he should maybe focus instead on the alarming trend of universities overpaying administrators and consultants to the detriment of the faculty.