#bottle shock 2008

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas 2023: Day 12. Giver of Gifts | Steven/Reader

AN: I thought twice about writing for Steven as he was a real person but I read that the real Steven said the character was nothing like him, so this is entirely based on the fictional character played by Alan and is nothing to do with the real Steven Spurrier or his real wife at all.

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

Being married to a world-renowned wine connoisseur wasn’t always as fun as it sounded. Of course, you loved being married to Steven, but as far as his status in the wine industry went, there were some downsides. Other people, mainly.

Some people - and these were the types to always order the cheapest white on the menu at any restaurant they went to - couldn’t fathom how Steven made a living out of his passion for wine. “I wish I could get paid for drinking wine!” they’d laugh, as if they were the first to make that joke. “Do you get free wine?” Yes, you’d say, sometimes he brought home a bottle or two of his favourites from whatever wine competition he’d been off judging. “What’s the difference between a £5 bottle and a £500 bottle?” Ask him, not me, and be prepared to listen to the answer for a long time.

And Christmas… well, your family and friends had their hearts in the right places. But when you sat down to open the presents under your tree on Christmas Day, you did sometimes wish for a bit more variety than endless bottles of wine as gifts - especially as the wines were usually generic supermarket-shelf bottles.

They were usually nice wines, and before meeting Steven you’d have loved to be given a year’s supply of free wine every Christmas. You liked Moët, and to the average person £50 was a lot for a bottle of wine. And at least Steven let you drink it - the higher the price of a bottle he brought home, the less likely it was he’d ever actually open it. His wine cellar was like a dragon’s cave, rows and rows of unopened fancy wines that were made to be drunk but he’d never dream of opening them because they were so fancy.

But there was more to Steven than just wine. And there was more to you than the wife of a man who loves wine. But whenever anyone thought of the Spurriers, they thought of wine, and so that was what you got.

And you couldn’t complain really - not since you’d actually bought him wine too. But you’d gone all out on this one. You were fortunate enough to earn a healthy amount of money in your own career, so although it stretched the budget a bit, it didn’t break the bank for you to buy him a £4,500 bottle of JS Terrantez.

Steven opened your present last, and his eyes lit up when he pulled the 200-year-old bottle from the bag you’d presented it in.

“[Y/n]!” he exclaimed with a gasp, turning over the bottle in his hand carefully, as if worried it might explode. “What on earth has gotten into you? You can’t give me this, it’s too much!”

“Don’t be silly, Steve,” you replied, nudging him. “I know how irritated you get at how many Barefoots and Echo Falls we get every year. I thought it was about time someone got you a good wine.”

“Good? This is the sixth most expensive wine in the world, [Y/n].”

“And it’s not even French, would you believe it?”

Steven rolled his eyes at you. His famous 1976 wine tasting had taken place years before you’d met, but you still liked to tease him about it.

“This is such a thoughtful gift, [Y/n]. Thank you.”

He kissed you on the cheek, and you blushed. He wasn’t the most affectionate man in the world, and you’d come to terms with that a long time ago - it just meant that when he did show affection, it meant all that much more to you.

“Can I open my present now?” you asked, eyeing up the one single gift under the tree that wasn’t in a wine bag.

“Alright, but I wish you’d opened it earlier, it pales in comparison to this.”

Steven carefully set aside the bottle to take down into the cellar later, and retrieved the last present from under the tree for you. You pulled back the wrapping paper to reveal a framed photo of the two of you from your wedding.

“Oh, Steve, I love it!” you exclaimed. You wrapped your arms around him, surprising him, and kissed him on the cheek.

“You do? I know we don’t have a lot of photos of us, so I thought it’d be nice to have something to put on the mantelpiece.”

“You mean other than the photos of you with important wine people?”

“Precisely. You’re far more important than any of them. But I feel bad now, it’s nothing compared to that Terrantez —”

“Well, I think it’s my favourite present this year. I’m going to put it right here on the mantel, and we can look at it while we drink these cheap wines and you tell me all about why they’re so terrible even though they taste fine.”

Steven smiled, your enthusiasm infectious, and he was grateful to have a wife so loving as you, who understood his passion - even if you didn’t quite understand the difference between a Merlot and a Shiraz.

[elizadushkudaily]

ELIZA DUSHKU as Joe Bottle Shock (2008) dir. Randall Miller

[muiitoloko]

Alan Rickman as Steven Spurrier

Movie: Bottle Shock (2008)

[teethondafloor]

Wait On Me - ¡By Your Side! - Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

________.✮.________

Notes-

Hiiii :>

This is an extract from my wattpad fic which I'm kinda proud of lol

3142 words

Set in 2008

Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff and ugly little bullies at the start

If you're Interested in reading the fic in full (and the rest when I write it lol) my username on wattpad is @kazoozia :3

Enjoyyy

________.✮.________

We lay on the roof for an hour or so, synchronizing our steady breaths and swaying our ankles to the beat of the faint club music playing below us, until our peace is disturbed by a distant ruckus coming from the stairs. From the unapologetically loud giggles and the piercing sound of beer bottles hitting against each other and spilling onto the pavement, we can tell that it's a group of teenagers, sneaking up (rather loudly) to the roof of the bar. Bill and I sit up as we hear their loud stomps barging up the stairs and stumbling after each step, tipsy. I pick myself up with my arm and stand on my feet, reaching over to Bill to help him up too. We glare at the stairs as the tall figures emerge from behind the wall and begin flooding the roof one after the other. They all seem to stumble around helplessly, drunk on whatever they managed to sneak up here with them. There is around six of them, with the boys at the front leading the way, while the girls stayed near the back with bottles in their hands, giggling. They look around before their eyes target us, their laughter and chatter fading. The roof falls silent, the club music below drowned out by my racing heart. I hear firm footsteps approaching us, and look up to see one of the boys of the group taking long and smug strides our way. I feel Bill's fingertips brush against my elbow, holding on gently. "...Sup-" The boy raises his head, smug. "...Looks like we've got company..." He tilts his chin to the cluster of teens behind him that snicker at his every word, keeping his eyes on us. "We don't want trouble." I speak up, which from Bill's quick glance I can tell surprises him. The boy smiles, his hands in his pockets "Me neither...bird." He shrugs. I pause, unsure of what to say or do. Seeing me clearly uncomfortable, he takes a few steps closer. "Got any plans tonight pretty?" His face now inches away from mine, I can smell the alcohol marinated within his jacket and breath, hot against my cheek. I scrunch my eyebrows and shoot him a look of disgust, shocked by his boldness. "What?...doesn't look like you're getting much action here anyway..." A shit eating smirk spreads across his cheeks. Ugh. "Fuck off-." I pause in regret as I let his stupid fucking comment aggravate me, making him smile even more.

"Aw look at you defending your boyfriend!...What about you huh?" He turns to Bill, nudging him forcefully with his pointer finger. "What?" Bill mutters, not wanting any conflict with a group of intoxicated teens. "Can you not speak for yourself? Y-you need a chick to do it for you huh? You look like one anyway...pussy...checks out." Bill grits his teeth, holding himself back. Hearing the bubbles popping and bubbling inside their countless bottles, for a second I mistake their sound for the rage bubbling inside of me. "What? Don't have anything to say? You only here to get your dick sucked? Respect..." Bill inches towards him, but then backs down and relaxes before the situation escalates further. "Dude...come on" A boy from behind the dick-wad that stands before us speaks up, mumbling under his breath. "We don't have time for these assholes." He stops and listens, breathing on Bill who glares into his eyes, unphased.

"Fine." He spits on the ground, inches away from me. "Fuck off and don't come back." He sneers in Bill's face, to which Bill responds with a wide grin, causing the boy to scrunch his eyebrows in confusion. In the blink of an eye, Bill spits in his face, proudly watching as the boy gasps in disgust. Without much thought, Bill grabs my hand and bag, running towards the stairs and past the boy, his hands desperately wiping off the karma. Bill pushes through the group of teenagers blocking the stairs, pulling me with him. 

We sprint down the stairs hand in hand, careful of each step as we escape the fire we fuelled; we hear it burning behind us, spreading to the others upstairs. Bill and I run as fast as we can, hearing the echo from our laughter bounce between the buildings at our sides. We run past the bar and onto the empty road, the blue night flickering in street lights. We run across the pavements and alleyways and cross-roads, to nowhere. I don't know where he's taking me, and I don't think he knows either, but I hold onto him like I'll lose him.

________.✮.________

My memory is blurred from the alcohol, and the events of the night bleed into each other as Bill and I suddenly find ourselves back at the hotel; our faces flushed bright red from endless laughter. As well as my memory, my heart is also glazed with confusion, causing all of my emotions to clump together into a teary mess; my laughter turning into tears at some point in the night. In the moment, I can't tell if the sweet tears that drip down my cheeks and pool in the corners of my mouth are tears of joy or sorrow or whatever, but I let them be. I let it all out tonight. 

We reach the elevator in the building and I push Bill inside, where he grabs onto my old jumper and pulls me in with him. We both stumble, our legs unsteady, barley holding us upright. I take a hold of the handle bar on the mirror in the elevator, and slowly tilt my head up, looking at my reflection. My messy strands of hair bury inside the neck line of my jumper, itching the sides of my neck and my eyes puffy and red from laughter or tears or the alcohol match my rosy cheeks, now growing fainter with the elevator's glare from above. My eyes drift from their reflection, and land on the boy who is now leaning against one of the walls, his head which leans down buried deep within his curtains of dark hair. Gripping onto the handle as I feel the ground moving beneath me, I turn around, now looking at Bill. I pause, not quite admiring him but...examining my view, taking him in. I let go and carefully take a step towards him, trying to balance without the support. "You okay?" I say, my hands now free. When he hears me close to him, his head jolts up and his eyes lock with mine. He grabs my arm, helping me balance and smiles. "...Yeah." We chuckle softly.

We look at each other for a moment longer, when the elevator doors slide open and reveal the floor of Bill's hotel room, which coincidently is just a few doors down from mine; which now...explains our first encounter. My vision swiftly blurs when trying to adjust to the bright ceiling lights trailing up and down the corridor. Rubbing my eyes and easing them from the blinding view, I feel Bill take my hand once again, holding on rather tightly so that I won't let go. He seems to hold onto me any chance he gets. I peer through my eyelids, observing his back glowing under the over-head lights as he guides me towards his hotel room.

I watch as he rummages through his pockets in search of his keys, and jamming them through the door in a hurry when finding them. "I can make us some dinner if you're up for it." He turns his head to me, still fidgeting with the keys. "Sure." I reply, my stomach turning inside out from hunger. I look around at the empty hallway surrounding us, stretching out into an infinite road at either side, and turn my head back when hearing the door break open, creaking as it swings forward. Bill stands back, looking to me, and extends his arm out to the doorway. "After you." He smiles playfully. I smirk at his politeness, before stepping into his ominously dark room, painted with shadow. I walk in, my eyes wandering each corner of the room as Bill switches the light on, it flashing the room in a bright wash and scaring away any shadow in sight. "Nice place." I say, grinning. The layout of the room is identical to mine, except it's much...messier than mine. Clothes, hairspray bottles, nail polish, shit like 20 different belts scatter the room, leaving only a few empty spots which reveal the grey carpet underneath. Bill hangs his jacket up on a set of hangers next to the door, his back to me. "Shit sorry uh...I wasn't expecting visitors- heh..." He chuckles nervously, now looking around the room too.

"Nah don't worry...you should see my room." I'd be lying if I said I'm not fairly surprised that a literal B-list celebrity like Bill rented out the same hotel as me...a broke kid looking for uhh...something from the city; I wonder if the band is either skint of funds or not planning to stay here long, but I decide not to question Bill about it, even if the alcohol in me bubbles with curiosity. Bill rushes to clean some of the junk coating the floor, throwing it into any empty bags and suitcases within his reach. I watch as he walks over to his bed, grabbing two of the big pillows that rest at its top and drops them on the ground next to the window which stretches from floor to ceiling. "Sit." He says, playfully demanding. I lower down onto one of the pillows, shuffling in my seat to get comfortable. "What do you wanna eat?..." Bill asks as he moves towards his fridge. "What do you have?" I say, looking into the fridge from afar as he swings it open, revealing its empty shelves. I guess we're even more similar than I thought. Bill stays quiet and his cheeks grow redder from embarrassment, seeing the state of his fridge and room and...he's a mess. I'm a mess. Oh god, but he doesn't know I'm a mess. A wave of empathy hits me, washing me and Bill onto the same shore. I understand. 

I stand up and walk towards my bag of groceries, now crumpled up and dirtied at the bottom. A mess. My hands rummage around its insides, scratching the sides of it and hunt down two pots of 'two minute noodles'. I take them in both hands and approach Bill, who faces away from me in shame. I hold one pot out to him. "Here." I smile with nurture in my voice. He gently turns his head to me, glancing at the pot and then at my face, scoffing lightly in laughter. He clenches it in his palm "What's this?"

"Kim-Chi...stuff, ever tried it? It's good...you'll like it."

He purses his lips and shakes his head gently, looking at the label. His eyes break away from the pot, and shoot me a look of excitement. "I guess we have our dinner...!" He smiles with glee and snatches the other pot of noodles from my hand. "Go sit down! I'll make it." he exclaims. "Fine!..." I laugh, strolling back to my pillow, now dented with the imprint of my ass from before.

I observe the view from the window behind me, as I hear Bill pouring boiled water into the two pots, stirring them gently whilst sprinkling in their complimentary spice packets. The view outside is similar to mine, except Bill's windows displayed the lit up city centre, which is impossible to see from my room without pressing your face right up against the windows. They reveal the more lively side of Berlin, one that lacked the shadows which I'm so used to seeing. The grocery shops and eerie alleyways and the speeding cars, zooming through the roads of the city. Finally something different. I'm so used to seeing the city up so high, locked in my room until the day is over as I have nowhere else to be, yet I still count the hours. Somehow, I feel a shift in perspective here; who knew a few doors down was a completely different world.

I sit, my arms hugging my knees against my chest. I hear Bill walking towards me, the floor under him creaking and popping with each of his movements. I turn my head, seeing his tall figure approaching me with two pots in hand, their steam escaping into the air. He leans over and hands me one them, which I hold with both palms, making sure it doesn't spill. We smile at each other. I take his noodles from him when he bends his knees and lowers onto the pillow next to mine, so that they won't spill either. Finally, I give him back his pot, and I take a whiff of mine; the mixture of processed spices shooting up through my nose and down my throat, burning my voice away. "-Thank-s.." I smile, holding in my coughs. Bill laughs in my face when seeing me struggle. "Well don't inhale it...!" He says, mocking me.

"Shut up." I cough out, swallowing my spit to ease the pain. Bill twists the noodles around his fork above the pot, watching as I dig in. "Enjoy...it's gourmet." He says, sarcastically. "Oh..!" I exclaim, mouthful of spice. I chew my noodles and start nodding my head gently, scrunching my eyebrows dramatically which makes Bill laugh. "Tastes like it." I say, playing along. Bill takes a deep breath "Do you usually have this...fine dining?" He smiles through his words.

 "Why? too fine for you?" I grin.

"Uh-no!...of course not!" He shakes his head and once again digs into his dinner. I observe as he does this, smiling. He looks up from his pot, the steam hitting against his chin, sliding up his jaw and escaping out into the air "...What?" He chuckles, squinting his eyes.

 "...Nothing." I smile and continues eating, breaking eye-contact with him whilst Bill continues looking at me. We fall silent for a couple minutes as we finish our food, until the silence melts away at Bill's words. I feel his eyes gazing up and down "You uh...you look...nice." He quickly glances at my face and back down to his remaining noodles even faster, watching them swimming in a tiny pool of seasoned water in the bottom of the pot. "I...I was gonna tell you earlier but- yeah..." Surprised and a little flattered, I squint my eyes and smile at his words. I feel my face burning lightly "Where did that come from?" I say, somewhat teasingly.

He shakes his head, still avoiding my eyes "Nowhere! I was just letting you know..." He continues staring at the lonesome noodle swimming around and hitting the edges of the pot, which suddenly disappears from his sight as I impulsively grab the pot from his hand. His head jolts up immediately at the sudden action, seeing me stand up and walk past him to the small sink next to the mini-fridge. I feel him watching from behind as I pour the noodles into the sink and rinse the pots out roughly, throwing them into the bin after. I turn around, his eyes already locked with mine. "You didn't have to do that..." He says as I sit back down onto my pillow. I stay quiet for a moment, until my mouth speaks my mind "Hey uh..." I swallow "...sorry if I gave you the wrong idea but...I'm not some...groupie." I say, trying to be gentle but still make my point. Bill shakes his head, concern washing over him. "It's cool if you thought that...I'm not offended or anything...I just need you to know that I'm not here for that..." I continue, leaving him speechless. "Honestly I didn't think I'd ever even meet you, let alone hang out with you like this. I'm sorry-" The feeling of his touch cuts my sentence in half, deafening my racing mind. He takes my hand "It's okay, I didn't think that." his worry turns into a warm and calming smile. He takes a long pause after "I know this is all quite...a lot. But I just like hanging out with you...you know? There's no reasoning behind it, I just like you." He looks up at me after his speech, his eyes almost pleading for me to answer, hoping that I understand. My mind deafens and I exhale gently, my mouth gradually curving into a gentle smile "Yeah...I like you too." I place my hand over his, our touch feeding each other warmth. A touch of appreciation, notice. 

For the rest of the night, We spill everything we have within ourselves on the floor of Bill's hotel room, not thinking twice. We talk about nothing and everything; anything that will keep the night from ending. At about two in the morning Bill blasts one of his songs on his laptop and the it's roaring lyrics bounce back and forth around the walls of the room. He stands on his feet and sings his heart out into his hairbrush as I watch, cross-legged on my pillow. He swings his hair back and forth to his brother's guitar solos, waiting for his que; and when it comes, he tries his best to harmonise with the recording blaring behind him. I giggle in my seat seeing him so ecstatic, doing something he does every few days for months without end. Seeing this...passion for his repetitive craft faintly reignited something in me: The same spark I felt at the concert the first time I saw Bill with my own eyes.

Hairbrush in hand, he reaches out to me and pulls me up to my feet. We both sing into the imagery microphone and take turns to dance and sing. The night falls into a dark gloom, fog hovering over pavements like a grey river of clouds. The blinds are pulled wide open, revealing to all of Berlin our private concert. But we don't care, nor do we notice. My focus lies on my feet, jumping up and down, spinning, kicking. I don't pretend that I'm singing at a concert to thousands of people or to Bill or anyone. I sing and dance for myself only. I feel my heart race with every kick and my hair hit against the back of my neck after every head turn. And I love it. This is what you're meant to do in Berlin, I think to myself between each verse. This is what I'm meant to do here. The spark brightens.

[fruitblr]

“Wine, the color of shit. Interesting.” BOTTLE SHOCK🍷🍷🍷️ 2008 | dir. Randall Miller

[severussnape0109]

Alan Rickman Movie Checklist

- [x] Die Hard 1988

- [x] The January Man 1989

- [ ] Quigley Down Under 1990

- [x] Truly Madly Deeply 1990

- [ ] Closet Land 1991

- [ ] Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves 1991

- [ ] Close my Eyes 1991

- [ ] Bob Roberts 1994

- [ ] Mesmer 1994

- [x] An Awfully Big Adventure 1995

- [ ] Sense and Sensibility 1995

- [ ] Michael Collins 1996

- [ ] The Winter Guest 1997

- [ ] Judas Kiss 1998

- [ ] Dark Harbor 1998

- [x] Dogma 1999

- [ ] Galaxy Quest 1999

- [ ] Help! I’m a Fish 2000

- [ ] Blow Dry 2001

- [ ] Play 2001

- [x] Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone 2001

- [ ] The Search for John Gissing 2001

- [x] Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets 2002

- [x] Love Actually 2003

- [x] Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Askaban 2004

- [x] Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire 2005

- [x] The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy 2005

- [x ] Snow Cake 2006

- [ ] Perfume: The Story of Murderer 2006

- [ ] Noblel Son 2007

- [x] Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix 2007

- [x] Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street 2007

- [ ] Bottle Shock 2008

- [x] Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince 2009

- [x] Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 2010

- [ ] The Wildest Dream 2010

- [ ] The Song of Lunch 2010

- [x] Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 2011

- [ ] The boy in the bubble 2011

- [x] Gambit 2012

- [ ] The Butler 2013

- [ ] A Promise 2013

- [x] Dust 2013

- [x] CBGB 2013

- [x] Dust (Short Film) 2014

- [ ] A Little Chaos 2014 (Directed and Starred)

- [ ] Eye in the Sky 2015

- [x] Alice Through the Looking Glass 2016

[meyerlansky]

sorry for the vaguing but do you have any idea, as someone who has been out, proud, and loud since 2008—in no small fucking part BECAUSE of how mcr has always treated their queer fans—how insulting it is to hear that this tour is what "recontextualizes" them and their legacy as a queer band? they have been queer from the start. they were openly spitting in the faces of cisgender heterosexual expectations of what bands in the scene were supposed to look and act like from the fucking start. frank didn't call himself a faggot and gerard didn't talk about sucking dick and getting rawed in the back of an IROC because it made them seem cool.

it is so UNBELIEVABLY insulting to act like this, now, is what makes mcr a queer band when every single queer kid in those audiences in the 00s knew EXACTLY what the much-derided "stage gay" was for. it was NEVER to pull in cishet audiences, it was these guys who have gotten the shit kicked out of them FOR BEING PERCEIVED AS QUEER, SKIRTS OR NO, saying "you're safe here" to all of us in the audience who didn't feel safe anywhere else, and just as importantly standing up on that stage and saying to people who had a problem with that that they can go straight to hell because they're NOT welcome in mcr's fan base. the fucking kiss at download '07 was BECAUSE the korn fans in the audience were calling them faggots and throwing bottles at them. it has always been a direct response to what people expect out of them, and when they're confronted with actual violence and hatred for "seeming" gay, they have never backed down or made excuses about it, they just said "so fucking what if we are?" which is quite frankly the queerest possible way to react. they have always been queer.

if you as a young queer person took "stage gay" to exclusively mean performative and shock value, especially if you're looking back on it with ZERO context of what it was actually like to be queer in the pre-obergefell "gay does not mean stupid" early 00s days, then i hate to break it to you but you bought directly into cisheteronormative mainstream culture doing exactly what it always fucking does to queer people: defanging and sanitizing our queerness so it's more palatable to them and the people who crave their respect more than solidarity with their fellow queers. and spoiler alert: it'll happen again with the skirts and dresses and makeup. because that's what always happens.

so if you want to talk about how big a deal it is that gee feels so much more comfortable going on stage in dresses and skirts, great—it IS a big deal and it DOES deserve to get hyped up, as do all the fans who feel empowered by gee being comfortable enough to do it. but don't fucking pretend they haven't been doing that all along, don't pretend that it's ONLY gerard fucking with the standards of what's expected out of a rock band, don't pretend that fucking with gender is the ONLY way to be queer, and don't fucking pretend mainstream reactions to their queer history wasn't sanitized and made palatable to read as less queer.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

TECHNICAL FOUL! | Part 2 - Airball

Pairing: Basketball Coach!Jin x Teacher!Fem. Reader

Rating: 16+

Genre: Enemies to ???, Coworker AU, fluff, angst, implied intimacy

Summary: When one of your best students in class failed his mid-term exams, you only had one person to blame- Coach Jin. He thinks he's the king of the world-tall, handsome, brooding, borderline arrogant and seems to be always getting things done his way, but you are adamant to give him a piece of your mind. The only problem is that you easily get tongue-tied in his presence.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12-deactivated20221218 @bts-reveries @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

•••

Airball

noun. a shot attempt that was off the mark and didn't touch the basket or the backboard

The gooey and oozy mozzarella cheese dribbled down on the side of your bestfriend’s mouth as she widened her eyes in shock, the other half of the deep-fried goodness caught in the air between her greasy fingers. “What!?” Bree exclaimed. “Wait, wait, wait… so you’re telling me that you and the class of 2008 basketball captain Kim Seokjin– whom you’ve been crushing on since high school, work at the same school?”

“Yep…” you winced at the bad taste that the sangria left in your mouth. You’re not really a wine person, but since Bree, your self-proclaimed wine connoisseur of a bestfriend moved in, you’ve been consuming it quite a lot lately. “We were both summoned into the Principal’s office a few days ago because one of my best students has not been best-student-ing right lately because of his basketball practice. Unscheduled, that is.”

“Ooh, did he get all hot and bothered?” she winked.

“No, I did,” you guffawed, smacking your bestfriend and roommate a little bit too hard on the arm. Oh, you think you’re so funny.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re working with him!”

“I didn’t because he’s technically not working with us, or for us,” you sighed. “He’s some minor league hotshot and he’s assigned,” you made quotation marks with your fingers in the air, “... in our school this year, because well, apparently he’s besties with the principal. They’re so tight, they’re on a first name basis, and the principal uses honorifics with him.”

“Oh…” Bree ran her fingers on her chin, pouting in the process as curiosity fell on her face. “What does he look like now? Is he still a cutie?” She batted her eyelashes at you.

You reached out for the empty bottle of Masseto you used for the sangria and placed it in front of Bree. “You see this?” You paused for dramatic effect, before you sighed dreamily.

“Kim Seokjin ages like fine wine.”

—

“Finally! Now you don’t need me to ask my teacher to watch the game, you already met her!” Soobin grinned and ran across the court with the ball, bent his knees and took a shot. Missed.

It was Monday afternoon, and Soobin decided to drop by the gymnasium after his classes. Bag strewn messily on the bleachers, he wasted no time in grabbing a ball and attempting to show off to his coach.

“Hey, that’s traveling! You gotta always dribble!” Seokjin called out. “Do you know the reason why we were called at the principal’s office, huh, young man?”

“Are you both in trouble?”

Seokjin burst out in his infectious squeaky laugh, grabbing the ball from Soobin. “We’re not in trouble, Soobinnie… you are.”

“Me?!” The boy’s eyes widened like saucers. “What did I do? Were my parents there?”

“At that time, no. But Miss ______ will surely have a meeting with them about your grades.” Seokjin dribbled the ball a few times before attempting to shoot a three-point shot. Missed. He signaled for Soobin to retrieve the ball with a cock of his head. “What’s going on, kid? Why have you missed your homeworks and failed your quizzes?”

“They’re getting harder these days, coach,” Soobin whined. “Math was fun until Mr. Park introduced shapes and letters. How are we supposed to calculate them?”

Seokjin scoffed. “You sound like my ex-girlfriend. She can do math, she’s excellent in language, just don’t mix up the two!”

“I agree! She must be fun. Maybe that’s why she broke up with you.”

“Yah…” Seokjin passed the ball to Soobin almost aggressively. “You’re bombing your Science quizzes too.”

“Mr. Jeon wanted us to label a blank skeleton!” Soobin marched towards the bleachers and sat down in frustration.

Seokjin retrieved two bottles of ice-cold water from his cooler and gave one to Soobin. “Have you tried talking to your parents or your teachers that you’re having a hard time?” His heart goes out to the child. He probably feels like he’s gonna get scolded if he admits he’s having a hard time.

“I might get scolded if I ask a lot or say I don’t get it.” Soobin pouted. Bingo. Seokjin was right.

“Hey, don’t think that way, okay?” Seokjin ruffled the kid’s hair. “That’s what your teachers are here for– to help.”

“Can you help me, coach?” Soobin looked up at him with hopeful puppy eyes.

Seokjin threw his head back in laughter. “I helped you get better so we can show off to Miss ______, but it bit me back in the butt because you actually got in trouble. Missed shot, dude. Airball.”

“You thought my teacher was pretty though, so you can’t back out, coach!”

Seokjin contemplated for a bit. He’s pretty sure he’s seen some early 2000 movies (or at least one) where the protagonist used basketball to teach geometry to a struggling kid. Maybe he should do that then. He quickly pulled up his phone and googled the different kinds of angles, just in case you know, he gets confused between an acute angle and an isosceles triangle. Which one makes up the other one again? Anyway, it’s no secret that he also wants to get the teacher’s attention too. He thought you’re very pretty and he overheard one of the senior teachers teasing you about being single a few weeks ago, so he knows it’s okay to crush on you. Crush? Pfft. Why he even thought of such an immature word is beyond him, but maybe because he’s surrounded by tiny humans below 15 years old all the time.

However, what he thought of paled in comparison to what you really looked like up close when he met you at Yoongi’s office. Your almond-shaped eyes are deep set and expressive, your well-groomed eyebrows rise and fall with every emotion mirroring your words, your cheeks are full, and your refined nose compliments your full pouty lips. Your make-up was barely there that he had to stop himself from staring, in case you caught him and you got weirded out.

“Okay, kiddo…” Seokjin stood up and dribbled his way to the center of the court. “You and I will have a one on one geometry lesson starting today, so…” He passed the ball to Soobin which the latter fumbled on catching. “Get into position and let’s show Ms. _________ what we got.”

Coach Seokjin’s goal? Impress you.

[passed-out-real]

Alan Rickman Filmography Part 4

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005)

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)

Snow Cake (2006)

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006)

Nobel Son (2007)

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007)

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)

Bottle Shock (2008)

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

Alice in Wonderland (2010)

[smilingformoney]

Alan Rickman filmography >> Bottle Shock (dir. Randall Miller, 2008) as Steven Spurrier

[beatrice1979a]

Bottle Shock - Gustavo (2008)

Freddy Rodriguez is Gustavo Brambila

Sam and Gustavo

Behind the scenes:

Movie review:

[ghales-stuff]

Argentina soccer says its Olympic training base was robbed before chaotic game vs Morocco

Argentina men’s soccer coach Javier Mascherano said the team’s Olympic training base was robbed before its chaotic tournament-opening loss to Morocco on Wednesday.The Argentina delegation filed a police complaint in Lyon, the prosecutor’s office of nearby Saint-Etienne said Thursday.

“They went into training and they robbed us, in the Olympic Games,” Mascherano said after his team’s shocking 2-1 loss. “We didn’t want to say anything after training,I don’t think it helps anything. But obviously it’s a bit disagreeable that these kinds of things happen.” Mascherano said midfielder Thiago Almada’s watch was among the items taken.It has been a troubled start to the Olympics for Argentina,which took gold in 2004 and 2008.It’s game in Saint -Etienne was suspended for nearly two hours after Morocco fans rushed the field and threw bottles to protest what appeared to be an equalizing goal from Cristian Medina in the 16th minute of added time.

The game was eventually resumed after fans were told to leave Stade Geoffrey-Guichard.The goal was overturned after being reviewed by the video assistant referee (VAR).Morocco held on as they played out the final three minutes.

[timetravelauthor]

A rosé by any other name

I don't know wine. To me, a good vintage is one that's in the clearance aisle at the supermarket. Beer is my beverage of choice.

On Monday, though, I played wine connoisseur. At two wineries in Napa, California, I gave several varieties a visual inspection, swirled them around to "unlock their bouquet," aired them out a bit, and finally threw them at my palate. I did what some people — a lot of people, actually — do every day.

I liked the experience. Though I didn't understand the science of winemaking or half of my sommeliers' gibberish about "notes of this" or "hints of that," I liked what I tasted. Then again, I expected to. When you taste the wine in one of world's greatest wine regions, you are bound to find something good.

I visited Northern California this week as my wife Cheryl's administrative assistant. She attended an education conference. I edited her blog and enjoyed the ride. A fair trade. As a part of our experience, we took an e-bike tour of the Napa Valley, home to five hundred wineries.

Our guide, Don, a transplant from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, was a font of information on all things Napa Valley. He educated two couples on everything from the region's geography and climate to its history and rise as a wine-making capital following a 1976 wine competition in Paris, an event chronicled in the 2008 comedy-drama Bottle Shock.

As for the bike ride, it was nice as well. Starting and ending in Yountville, home of the French Laundry restaurant, it covered about eighteen miles on sidestreets, paved paths, and even highways. Along the way, we passed not only vineyards and wineries but also lush farmland, olive orchards, and eucalyptus groves. E-bikes, in case you have not tried them, are a kick. They are exercise for the rest of us.

I hope to take a few more of these trips in between writing and editing novels. Doing is living, as they say, and I plan to do a lot more.

[coinmystique]

Randall Miller has directed 12 motion pictures. Essentially the most well-known of these might be “Bottle Shock,” the 2008 indie starring Alan Rickman and Chris Pine that gained cult reputation within the wine world for its dramatization of the “Judgment of Paris”—the famed 1976 event on which California wines defeated their French counterparts in a blind style check.Essentially the most notorious is actually “Midnight Rider,” an unfinished biopic Miller directed concerning the singer Gregg Allman. In 2014, on the primary day of filming, Miller and his crew had been capturing with no allow on an lively railroad bridge in southern Georgia when a freight prepare got here by way of at full pace.The prepare injured a number of crew and solid members and killed Sarah Jones, a 27-year previous digicam assistant. Miller later pled responsible to involuntary manslaughter and legal trespassing; he spent one yr in jail for these fees, making him the primary filmmaker to ever serve time for a film-related loss of life.Miller is presently ending out his 10-year probation, a situation of which is that he's barred from directing any movie—although that directive was examined in 2019, when Miller directed a film in Serbia concerning the World Barista Championship and was thereafter reprimanded by a Georgia choose. (Miller acknowledged he had misunderstood the phrases of his probation and was not despatched again to jail.) Rachael Taylor, Alan Rickman, and Chris Pine in “Bottle Shock.” Courtesy: Unclaimed Freight ProductionsThe director shouldn't be, nonetheless, banned from pursuing artistic tasks that don’t put him accountable for others’ security. That’s maybe one piece of the reply as to why he’s now endeavoring to make a crypto-funded reboot of “Bottle Shock” that may set the movie’s unique audio monitor to an (virtually) shot-for-shot animated recreation of the movie’s solid and units, with singalongs to “well-known songs from the ‘70s and ‘80s” now peppered in throughout.Miller, to be clear, is not directing “Bottle Shock: The Animated Film.” Michael Davis, the filmmaker and animator, is; Miller is producing the project, and leading the charge in attempting to get the film funded via decentralized methods. A poster for”Bottle Shock: The Animated Film.” Courtesy: Unclaimed Freight Productions“As an independent filmmaker, it’s a startup each single time you make a film,” Miller advised Decrypt’s SCENE. “There’s all kinds of roadblocks, and if an artist can make a movie they want to make, and fund it with an audience of people who are excited about it, that’s really exciting. That could be revolutionary… if this can work.”Miller and his manufacturing firm, Unclaimed Freight—which he runs along with his spouse and artistic associate Jody Savin—have joined forces with Funded, a crypto fundraising platform that lets folks purchase fairness stakes in tasks through NFTs. Miller plans to permit holders of “Bottle Shock” NFTs to share within the animated movie’s earnings, commensurate with the dimensions of their investments. A side-by-side comparability of a shot from the unique “Bottle Shock” with a shot from the animated reboot. Courtesy: Unclaimed Freight ProductionsWhereas different movie and tv tasks have tried to boost manufacturing budgets with NFTs, these endeavors have began to garner detrimental consideration from regulators.Final week, the USA Securities and Trade Fee (SEC) issued an enforcement motion in opposition to “Stoner Cats,” an NFT-backed net sequence co-created by the actress Mila Kunis. Key to that motion was the SEC’s view that the undertaking’s creators implied that “Stoner Cats” NFTs might be thought of investments that may rise in worth if the present succeeded—making these NFTs, within the SEC’s eyes, illegally unregistered securities.Miller mentioned he discovered the information final week regarding, however largely irrelevant to him. On the similar time, although, the filmmaker was pretty unambiguous when describing how his undertaking understands its relationship to “Bottle Shock” NFT holders. “We’re treating them as if they were investors, whether we can technically call them investors or not,” Miller mentioned. “But they are investors.”“Bottle Shock: The Animated Film” is presently looking for to boost $1.5 million value of Ethereum for a manufacturing price range that may pay out the movie’s creators, together with Miller and his spouse, in addition to the movie’s unique actors, for reuse of their voices—although musical numbers can be recorded by a brand new solid.Not all of these actors will be capable of see their performances recontextualized. Rickman, who starred in “Bottle Shock” and is probably greatest identified for portraying Severus Snape within the “Harry Potter” movie franchise, handed away in 2016. Rickman starred in three movies made by Miller and his spouse; the filmmakers see “Bottle Shock: The Animated Film” as a possibility to interact with the actor’s distinctive abilities as soon as once more.“We miss Alan so much,” Miller mentioned. “And now we get to have Alan again, in a way. Although if his character sings, which we’re planning, it’ll be a different person singing.”A side-by-side comparability of a shot of Alan Rickman and Dennis Farina within the unique “Bottle Shock” with a shot from the animated reboot. Courtesy: Unclaimed Freight ProductionsMiller is assured the movie will earn again its proposed $1.5 million price range, after which some, by promoting to a streamer like Amazon or Hulu. If the streamers don’t chew, then he’ll take the movie on the competition circuit, as he and his spouse did in 2008 with the unique “Bottle Shock”—and then attempt to promote the movie to a streamer off constructive press and momentum.  “I think it’s going to be a much easier sale [this time around],” Miller mentioned. “Because people will be curious. They’ll be like, ‘What, what is that? What is that version of the “Bottle Shock” film? I’m curious!’”Funded operates on an “all or nothing” crowdfunding mannequin, which means that every one tasks on the platform should meet their fundraising objectives inside 30 days. In the event that they don’t, all raised funds are mechanically reimbursed to backers, in an effort to guard them.“Bottle Shock: The Animated Musical” opened its fundraising window on Tuesday; at writing, the undertaking has raised 0.036 ETH, or roughly $57. Keep on prime of crypto information, get day by day updates in your inbox.Supply: https://decrypt.co/198125/bottle-shock-film-director-plots-animated-musical-remake-funded-nfts

[ponderlyunbiasednews]

Is Gwyneth Paltrow's Goop brand trustworthy?

Gwyneth Paltrow is an award-winning actress, producer, and director known for her role as Pepper Potts in Marvel’s Iron Man and Avengers films (2008-2019), among other productions like Contagion (2011) and Shakespeare in Love (1998). 

Gwyneth Paltrow created Goop as a personal weekly newsletter that eventually became a successful, yet controversial wellness and lifestyle company since its inception in 2008.

In 2018, Goop was reportedly valued at $250 million and generated over $45 million in revenue.

Over the years, Goop was the subject of scrutiny due to its “aphrodisiac” Jade Egg and “This Smells Like My Vagina” exploding candle.

The Goop brand is described as a 'modern lifestyle brand' that offers wellness advice from doctors, travel recommendations, as well as clean beauty, fashion, and home products.

Sheryll (No)

Many of Goop’s products are sold based on dubious health claims. For example, there was the infamous jade egg, which Goop claimed that inserting into the vagina could improve sexual health, even though there is no scientific evidence to back this up. The brand also promotes “Detox Guides,” which have been widely dismissed as pseudoscience.

Some of Goop’s products are also just dangerous for regular use. Using the jade egg can lead to infections and toxic shock syndrome, and Goop’s recommendation to “steam your vagina” once caused a woman to be hospitalized. In 2018, one woman also died after undergoing live bee acupuncture, which Goop claimed could reduce inflammation and skin scarring. Goop also sells a bottle of vitamins aimed at treating conditions related to menopause, but these vitamins contain a potentially dangerous amount of biotin.

Many question whether Goop is motivated more by financial interests than the well-being of its consumers. During an ‘In Goop Health’ conference in 2019, some attendees questioned the $1,300 hotel price tag and claimed the overall experience was subpar, with one even calling the summit a weekend-long “sales pitch.” 

Goop has also gotten into legal trouble for its products. In September 2018, Goop entered a legal settlement to resolve a lawsuit brought by 10 California District Attorney offices, where prosecutors alleged that Goop made several unsubstantiated medical claims about their products. The suit was filed after Truth in Advertising warned of over 50 unsubstantiated health claims made by Goop. It is, therefore, inconceivable to consider Goop trustworthy when its business model relies so much on sensationalized wellness trends.

Joanna (Yes)

Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop can and has been called many things, but untrustworthy shouldn’t be on that list. Goop takes thorough measures to ensure the authenticity of its recommendations. Firstly, it collaborates with experienced physicians on the vitamins and supplements regimens posted on Goop Wellness. These experts cite peer-reviewed research to support the efficiency of these treatments. 

Moreover, Goop has had a highly vetted team dedicated to fact verification since 2018. The team comprises a full-time fact checker, a lawyer, an expert on nutritional science, and a director of science and research. With their help, the brand ensures higher transparency while avoiding accusations of spreading misinformation. 

But all that aside, Goop’s recommendations aren’t as outrageous as most critics claim. Many of these have been backed by science. For instance, The Goop Lab’s first episode featured four Goop staffers who took psilocybin (magic mushrooms) to help with different wellness issues. This isn’t news, as there’s sufficient research indicating psilocybin’s therapeutic outcomes for people suffering from depression, PTSD, and anxiety. 

Besides, some featured treatments were publicized long before Goop without critics batting an eye. In 2013, Kim Kardashian introduced the world to platelet-rich plasma (PRP) facials. Yet, when Goop tackled the subject in 2020, publications like Rolling Stone didn’t waste time debunking it. One reason for Goop's constant criticism may be Gwyneth herself. Being called the most hated celebrity in the world by Star Magazine affected her brand. Regardless, Goop has provided sufficient evidence to prove it’s trustworthy. As for those suspecting it, they can heed the brand’s advice to consult their physicians before trying its recommendations.

[spook-study]

The radio. What is it about the radio? Even as technology has advanced, becoming something almost unrecognizable from the golden age of radio. The original radio play of War of the Worlds was aired in 1938. Let that sink in. The Buggles may have said it best in their 1979 bop: video, did indeed, kill the radio star, but that hasn’t stopped them from appearing in video.

There are so many great movies us radio as a foundation for the plot. Nightmare Radio (2019), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986), and The Vast of Night ( also 2019), a movie I should really get around to doing a write up on because I loved it, all feature deejays as main characters, and they are far from the only ones to do so. On top of that, arguably every ghost-hunting movie ever made can wiggle its way in there, most feature some kind of antennaed communication device, and often use radio as a ghost/demon conduit. For whatever reason, we all decided and agreed that the dead can speak through the radio.

Pontypool (2008) certainly isn't John Carpenter's The Fog (1980), but nothing ever will be.

Despite the lamentable death of the radio drama, horror has never let the radio die. Those little boxes litter the genre. They remain steadfast, still showing up in movies even as Spotify takes over the music streaming scene and narrative podcasts attempt to fill the void left in the wake of live radio plays. There’s just something about it. Something alive. The fact that when you listen to radio, you’re listening to someone speaking to you in real time; someone is turning tables and transitioning between songs or segments in real time. Even live television can’t compare because it’s performative. Radio is alive, which means it can be dead- have dead air. If a person stops talking or spinning tables, you won’t be hearing anything until the emergency tape eventually kicks in. There’s just an activeness to that. And an aside to say rest in peace to television dead air; in my heart, no “6 Hours Soothing Sleep Static Sounds” video on YouTube will ever do you justice.

Radio is more personal than all that. Someone is speaking to you, that’s simply the way radio works. "If you’re just tuning in, listeners," that’s you. It feels personal, contained, call the number and talk to that disc jockey to win tickets, to offer your opinion, to be on the radio right then and there. It's a slice of fame: everyone listening is hearing you, learns your name, is reacting to what you're saying. I’m sure it’s thrilling. I've always been too nervous to even try to call in.

Now I'm a sucker for a bottle movie, so I'm sure you can imagine my delighted realization when it became clear that Pontypool is one! Talk about radio being personal, save for the first couple of minutes where disgraced shock jock Grant Mazzy is driving to his new job in the middle of nowhere Canada, we never leave radio station. One big room? Seems pretty personal to me.

For those of you who might be unaware, a bottle film, from ‘ship in a bottle’ figures, is a movie or episode of television that remains in the same location for most, if not all the duration. While characters may come and go, we, the viewer, remain. Hitchcock’s Rope (1948) and Rear Window (1954) both qualify, as well as the more recent Circle (2015), and Hush (2016). Horror certainly doesn't have a shortage of them, either. While there are bottle films which take place in locations with more than one room, like Funny Games (1997 or 2007, both great) or Clue (1985), I’m preferential to the smaller locations as exemplified in Pontypool. I like the claustrophobia, the containment, the way these movies can make both viewer and characters feel like the walls are closing in. I like the visual representation of being being stuck, the endings often culminating in the escape from containment. Give me a movie in a single room and I'm practically in love. There’s just something about it- breathing the same air as it gets stagnant, seeing the same sights, stuck with the same people. It’s The Yellow Wallpaper effect. The movie operates on a simple premise but leaves a lot to unpack if you're in the mood for contemplation.

Pontypool is a pandemic movie a 'zombie' movie, colloquially speaking. If people never die they aren't zombies, but let's not get into that right now. The movie leaves whether people actually die over the course of the illness taking hold unclear. While no one is rising up from their grave, they still become mindless killing machines who eat people. One way or another, the infected remain up and about when a human would definitely be dead.

Still, Pontypool does manages to set itself apart from the crowd: the infection is spread through words. Specifically English words. The idea itself is interesting enough to cover the convoluted explanation the movie gives, but that might just be due to the fact that it's almost impossible to wrap your head around. A disease transmitted through words? How the hell does that work? Just thinking about it gets my mind whirring.

The film follows the early morning workers of the Pontypool radio station. Grant Mazzy, who has found himself with a dreg of a job after his untoward personality and “take no prisoners” approach to hosting got him fired and basically blackballed. Tech assistant Laurel-Ann, who is a veteran for seemingly no reason, is amused by his antics. Station manager Sydney, a middle-aged woman who is tragically and typically devoid of a personality, is decidedly less so. In addition to the on-screen roles there’s another impactful character who is only heard through call-in, “eye-in-the-sky” helicopter reporter Ken Loney, whose helicopter is actually his beat-up car on top of the tallest hill in town.

A bit into the movie we get the irreputable town doctor Mendez, who miraculously made his way to the station despite his office being the first location we hear about being overrun. Running, violent hordes that are shown to chase people and the greying Dr. Mendez makes it out and across town, no explanation offered. We're talking breaking down the doors and piling on top of one another like a small town World War Z (2013), or at least that's how the situation is described. If you aren't contemplating the workings of the movie's universe, like my aforementioned fascination with how the infection works, "how" questions can be killer. For Mendez's entire appearance I just kept thinking, "how the hell did he get out of there?" It's easy to get caught up in things like that and my suspension of disbelief is no more. This is a reoccurring problem for the movie, which I'll get into more later.

Since the program is a morning news show, the group starts off by reporting what is only considered news in itty-bitty towns like Pontypool, Ontario, Canada. Mazzy clearly hates his job, drinking at the crack of dawn and making fun of the townspeople as news comes in. He tells nothing stories because there's nothing to report on. In a previous broadcast which serves as the opening narration to the movie he reported on a woman's lost cat. It's hard-hitting journalism, folks. The first report of the day of the film regards an altercation with the police with an ice fishing shed.

After taking one too many mild crack shots, Sydney chastises Mazzy. He jokes about alcohol being involved in the situation, which ended as soon as it began. But he finds out through Sydney that one of the men is indeed an alcoholic. She implies everyone knows it, but things like that remain spoken of only behind closed doors. It's later revealed eye-in-the-sky Ken is a pedophile. Well, not exactly, the people in town just all keep there kids away from him. The dirty laundry is to stay in the basket. So, whether he likes it or not, the people of Pontypool need their simple news- school closures, weather, traffic. Particularly during blizzards, like the one everyone is caught in for the movie. Power is likely to get knocked out, which means no television news. The first iPhone came out in 2007, only a year before the movie’s release, so smart phones are still a rarity. What you have is your landline, and not much else. It’s radio news, or it’s no news.

Ken Loney reports on what is first deemed a riot which is of course slowly revealed to be a pandemic that turns people into violent cannibals that creepily parrot words and phrases. A bit into the growing situation, a transmission in French intercepts their air time which urges everyone to stay inside, not speak, to particularly avoid pet names such like ‘honey’ and ‘baby,’ ending with warning not to translate the message. Oops, too late, it’s been translated and Mazzy relayed it on air. So much for that warning. Also, lest we Americans forget, Canada has two official languages, one of which is French. It's reasonable, then, for the movie to have characters that know at least a bit of French, rusty though it may be. Since it's only English that is infected, other languages remain safe. That is, if they need to speak at all. Pen and paper are pretty good workarounds too, but still they chatter away even after Dr. Mendez's entrance. His first bits of dialogue include him openly stating he believes the illness is transferred through sound, and English. We can extrapolate through the characters broken French from later in the movie that Pontypool is predominately English-Speaking, thus explaining why the earlier warning was related in French. Anyway let's keep talking.

As more of Ken’s scattered reports come in, he relates his escape from the oncoming hoard, subsequent hiding in a barn, and the sight of a boy he knows crying out with the voice of a child while missing an arm and despite the fact that he should be dead. The employees of the station become a bit more frantic as well, unable to get much information coming from the outside. As an additional strain the Station has no windows, so they are unable even to see what is happening.

This limitation seeds disbelief, leading them to open the front door and incidentally inviting the infected inside. Sound is what draws the infected, so they play a recording to the loudspeaker outside: Sydney Briar is alive. This draws the group back out. Laurel-Ann becomes infected, and Mazzy, Mendez, and Sydney take shelter in the sound-proof radio booth. Mendez hypothesizes that only certain words are infected, and that one must ‘understand’ the word in order for the infection to take hold. What in the world that means is sort of explained, but really it's anyone's guess.

Time passes to the sound of Laurel-Ann relentlessly banging her head against the plexiglass window to the booth. After her continued self mutilation, what’s left of their young station tech dies. Eventually, and I do mean eventually, the remaining group decides it might be best to stop talking after Dr. Mendez comes to the realization that it is only certain words of the English language which transmit the disease, the first indication of which being the host’s repetition of an infected word. They begin passing notes to communicate. But when Dr. Mendez exhibits the beginning signs of infection, Mazzy and Sydney leave him alone to the booth. This is the beginning of the end, which I’ll leave to you to watch on your own.

So what is Pontypool saying? A movie set in a radio station of which the very foundation is the power of sound, where radio itself is practically ground zero. Who knows what words may set the infection off. Did Mazzy, who as far as we can tell isn’t infected, start this whole thing with his half-truth reports? What this movie hedges its bets on is the power of language and of sound. Horror is nothing without sound, and we don’t need a movie about deejays or radio to know that. For tone setting, for jump scares, for themes, audio can make or break a horror movie. Who could forget the the crazy and wildly listenable soundtrack to Suspiria (1977), the sharp iconic sting in Psycho (1960), or the looming staccato of the themes from Jaws (1975) and Halloween (1978)?

For those of us whose hearing remains intact, sound has power- whether you’re conscious of it or not. It effects everything you do, and everything you experience. Mazzy’s show is a news program on top of everything. English as the infected language, which doesn't feel like a coincidence. Casual half-truths with little to no foundation. While the movie takes place in Canada, Americans should be able to relate much of the premise to their own experiences. When did the news become a thing of opinion? Why has fact become so convoluted? How did it come to this? Where is the impartiality that begets news in its purest form, as a way to conduct information? The dissemination of not only ideas, but ideals, is perpetuated in part by news media. How many of us have tried to wean an unsavory relative off of Fox? I’ll do you one better: how many have made fun of and decried shock jock radio host Joe Rogan?

Information is passed through language, and the bias of those reporting it then infects the listener.

Pontypool doesn’t reflect on this enough in its runtime, and most of these musings are my own. derived from but not included in the movie itself. While it may touch on the fear of misinformation and the doubt that can come from being unable to witness things for yourself, I feel it could have been a bit more keyed-on, a bit more contemplative. Maybe even a bit more heated. There was very little passion. It runs around itself, in a way. Most of the movie is just the characters repeating the sentiment of not believing the things that are being related to them are happening, and then, once they’ve confirmed it, they can’t believe it.

Pontypool spent a good portion of its runtime with the characters asking if the situation was real. That can get tired very quickly, and it did. We know it’s happening because we’re watching a movie. Stringing a viewer along with character disbelief loses its efficacy pretty quickly. While character reaction may be understandable in a semi-realistic way, we aren’t watching the movie for realism. It’s performance. The characters need to move a bit faster, the actions need to be a bit bigger, the body has to react a bit stronger. It’s a horror movie. Pontypool just spent too long on disbelief, which caused a disconnect. It stated to feel winded, despite only being 6 minutes longer than my ideal horror movie runtime of 90 minutes.

I think they relied on all the weight to be carried by the concept, which I thought was so interesting. Unfortunately my interest ended up being only on the premise. Almost as if presented as a piece of news itself, Pontypool didn’t have much of a point of view. The script just didn't live up to the idea, and that drives me crazy. Mazzy’s a shock jock, but whether he was an asshole or a martyr is never really answered. What exactly was he fired for saying? We never find out. Why wasn’t there a brief comedy relief moment where he just devolves into speaking only in swear words? Of course, he doesn’t swear much because of the FTC but when they stop broadcasting? Or when he starts to lose his cool?

Sydney knows everyone in town and all their dirty laundry, is she maybe a little meaner than we had initially thought? Or actually, is there anything interesting about her? Because besides being the “mother” figure who admonishes Mazzy and scolds Laurel-Ann, there wasn’t a lot going on. Embarrassingly, her only defining trait is that she cares. That's just bad writing.

Laurel-Ann is a veteran, but why didn’t she have anything else to show for that other than the one line, “We have enemy combatants.” This last one really grinds my gears. The fact that she was a veteran went nowhere. No badass moment, no kicking zombie ass, no bodying them in defense. It’s a pandemic movie; there’s always an excuse to have your army brat character do some stunts. She was young too! She looked like she was in her 20s. Why was she dismissed at such a young age, or was she a reserve? Obviously she worked in army radio, but she looks fit enough. And if she did work in radio, why did they give her that army brat line and have her move like she was infantry? Or, if she didn’t have a reason to know hand-to-hand combat, why wasn’t there a little joke about that?

And Doctor Mendez. Why was he allowed to still be practicing despite writing phony prescriptions, a crime which could potentially prosecuted as a felony? Why does he still have a license? Sydney knew about it, but did no one tell the police? There's keeping personal matters private, but I don't think this one counts. And why, when they realize it’s the English language, do they not immediately switch to French? Why don’t they start to write notes sooner? For the number of times someone said they should stop talking, they sure kept on doing it.

I’m getting frustrated again just thinking about it! Questions like these are easy to answer with standard movie dialogue. Plot holes, failed potential, trip ups, whatever you want to call it, this movie had a ton of them. It’s also a high-stress environment. So why isn’t anyone having a real argument, whispered or otherwise? You’re telling me stuck for hours in the same room with the same people wouldn’t beget a real argument? Why is no one scared to the point of anger? Anger, confusion, fear, it just was so pale. And here I go again! I can feel my muscles tensing the more I mull it over.

Pontypool took itself so seriously the fun was just sucked right out of it. The devil is in the details and nothing is more irritating to me than tiny unanswered questions. You can leave your overarching explanations vague, have a weird ending, make it whatever you want in my opinion. But you better answer how the hell Dr. Mendez escaped his office when Ken Loney’s first report included a crowd gathering outside the building. I mean as far as the viewer is concerned, it was the first place. And the infected people are strong! The person who ended up getting Ken busted through a barn door! A movie shouldn't bring up questions like these unless it intends to answer. Where's the payoff? I want to grab this movie by the neck and shake it. I don’t even have the words. Like come on. Ugh! I’m getting heated, girl. (Or guy…or other…you get it.)

Honestly this whole review probably feels incredibly disconnected, but that’s the split for me about Pontypool. I adored the premise, spent time thinking after it ended about the world it created, the rules, how one might go about counter-acting it, what does the virus actually do to someone. But the movie itself? Completely wanting. Of anything. It’s just such a bummer because the idea, at least to me, is so cool.

Not particularly funny, scary, or contemplative, I have to go on what the movie presented, not just the concepts. I could see the good movie in there, but I didn't see it on screen. Look, I'm still thinking about it much after watching it which is only a good thing in terms of staying power. But we also remember bad movies and tend to think on those just as much as the good ones. Still, Pontypool is quite the popular movie and continues to be well received to this day. I'm definitely in the minority when it comes to my dislike, so don't shy away from giving it a watch. As of now (December 20) it's streaming on Shudder. As for me? Well...maybe the book is better. It usually is.

Split down the middle in a case of execution not living up to the concept, Pontypool (2008) slips by with a 2/5.