#chrisopher nolan

[elyalovi]

#shorts Nolan y la teoría de quién estuvo detrás del magnicidio de Kennedy

[3dways]

The Dark Knight Trilogy Batarang. This time it's not actually 3D printed. It's made in stainless steel thickness 2 millimetres. Another commission finished 🦇

[ulrichgebert]

Haben jetzt auch das Kinopflichtprogramm für den Sommer abgearbeitet. Die vielbeachtete bombastische Wissenschaflerbiographie Oppenheimer ist besser und seriöser als ich erwartet habe, obwohl arg lang und nolanesk verschachtelt, der Tobi allerdings bemängelt massive Effekthascherei (ohne die es allerdings wahrscheinlich keiner angeschaut hätte), sowie -nicht ganz ungerechtfertigt- die für das geschwätzige Format auch arg dick aufgetragene Musik als fürchterlich (ich hingegen sage immer: "Mit Hans Zimmer wär's noch schlimmer"). Es ist desungeachtet ein bemerkenswerter Film, ihn im Rahmen einer Doppelvorstellung mit Barbie anzuschauen scheint uns jetzt allerdings erst recht eine absurde Idee.

[canadianfangirl-95]

A Close Call  

Frankie Morales x f!reader 

Summary: I saw a writing challenge for Pedro characters and one of them was hiding in a closet and I don’t remember who the creator was so I can’t submit but I wrote it for fun anyway. 

Warnings; post-Triple Frontier, Frankie has no wife or kid, friends with benefits, smut, unprotected piv, porn with plot, possibility of getting caught, idk it’s pretty funny too, probably missed something but lmk 

Word count: 3100+ (oops) 

Sliding the screen door closed behind you, you carefully latch the lock and shrug the bag on your shoulder higher. Santi and Yovanna have a hot tub, but like, the best hot tub ever. They said when they were on their month-long trip to visit her brother in Australia that anyone in the friend group could use it. That was 4 months ago, and you may have been sneaking over periodically to enjoy a private bath while they’re on a weekend getaway or you know they’re going to be seeing a particularly long movie. Thankfully, they love Quintin Terrentio and Chrisopher Nolan films. You know they wouldn’t exactly be mad if they found out, but they would definitely revoke your key privileges and with volleyball season coming soon, you’re gonna need the boiling hot soaks to calm your muscles. 

You dried off meticulously outside so as to not leave any drips on the floor. Your towel is tied around your waist, your bikini top bare and your clothes in the bag as your flip flops pat against the floor as you make your way to the guest bathroom to change. You turn the corner in the hall and come face to face with a brick wall. You yelp and step back, holding your nose that just got smushed.  

Not a brick wall. Frankie. 

“Fuck.” You curse, “What are you doing here?” 

He looks at you with wild eyes, “Um.” He stutters, “Doesn’t matter what are you doing here?” He asks accusingly. 

You look him up and down. Slide on sandals, swim shorts, a t-shirt, towel draped over his shoulder. You smirk and cross your arms over your chest. His eyes flick fleetingly at your breasts and then back at your face. “You’re here to use their hot tub, aren’t you?” You say smugly.  

Shifting nervously, he looks at the wall in the dark hallway and leans against it. “No, no just you know. Came to hang out with Santi.” He says casually before properly giving you a once over.  

Eyeing him amusingly you chuckle, “You always bring a towel to hang out with Santi? Don’t they have towels here?” You ask, your fingers reaching out to fumble with the dangling fabric. 

“Fine fuck off.” He finally says with a cracked smile. “But you’re literally in a bikini.” He says, gesturing to your barely covered body.  

You both let out a laugh before you point at him with your finger sternly, “Okay but hey, you gotta get out of here. I need the hot tub more than you and we can’t both be sneaking over here. One of us is gonna get caught.”  

“I need it too.” Frankie says admittedly.  

You scoff, “Why?” 

“I’ve got a bad back. I don’t know if you remember or not, but I was kinda in the army and for like 20 years and my back is fucked up.” He says exasperated. 

Rolling your eyes you let out a snoozing sound, “Ugh, yes how could I forget. You literally always talk about how you used to carry horses on your back through the jungle.” You make a fart noise with your tongue to accentuate your humorous tone.  

“I carried men, not horses.” He retorts with a smirk.  

“Fine, whatever. Look, I’ll rock, paper, scissors you for it then.” You say in a quiet hush, remembering where you are. 

His eyebrows narrow, “Why are you whispering, no one’s home.”  

The lock on the front door clicks and you both practically jump out of your skin. You hear the unmistakable sound of Santis’ voice and footsteps at the front of the house.  

“Shit.” You whisper. 

Frankie looks around frantically and then grabs hold of the handle on the hallway closet to your right, pulling it open. “Quick, get in.” He places his hand on your back to guide you in and quickly follows suit, quietly latching the door behind him.  

You’re standing in darkness, the only sounds your own deep breathing mixed with his. A moment later, a small light illuminates the room, and you look up at the light bulb Frankie just clicked on with a pull string. He releases it and looks down at you, the string swinging absently above you both.  

“What are they doing home already? I thought they had a late dinner out of town?” You whisper. 

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Usually when they go to that restaurant Yovanna has 3 glasses of wine and makes him stop at every gas station to pee on the way back.”  

Letting out a chuckle, you say. “3? Try 4.” Looking around, you take in the small hallway closet. Not much in it other than a gym bag shoved to the corner, but it was still tight. The proximity between Frankie and you a few inches at best. Looking up at his eyes, you ask. “What do we do?” 

“I don’t know. They’ve never come home early before. I’m in new territory.” He says, he moves to place his hands on his hips but his elbow strikes the door. You both startle and he curses.  

“Geeze. I thought you were special forces, how could you be this loud right now?” You whisper yell at him, your eyes wide. He gives you an amused look and lays his arms at his side.  

“Sorry.” 

Pinching your eyes shut you hum to yourself, “Fuck what do we do?” 

“What time is it?” He asks.  

You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, “11.”  

Nodding, he says. “Okay, so let’s just wait until they go to bed, sneak out and lock the door behind us. If they catch me, they’ll take my key. They’re still pissed at me for coming over with Benny after his fight that one time when we broke her vase.”  

Letting out a snort, you say. “Yeah, and if they catch me, they’ll definitely take my key away considering that time I came over and borrowed Santis truck without asking.” You cross your arms and lean back against the wall. 

He eyes you curiously, “You stole his truck?” 

“Borrowed.” You clarify. “I borrowed his truck.”  

“For what?” he asks amused. 

Smirking, you say. “I might’ve found a popcorn machine on Marketplace and it didn’t fit in my car.” Frankie lets out a quiet chuckle. “Hey, it was first come first serve I had to act fast.”  

“A popcorn machine? What are you twelve?” 

“What are you twelve?” You rebut in a mocking tone, and he has to chew his lip to keep himself from laughing.  

Frankie lifts his hat off his head and scratches at his curly locks. “Okay, so neither of us wanna get caught then. So, let’s just ride it out and we can slip out after they’ve gone to bed. No harm done.”  

“Fine.” You say, resting your head against the wall and shrugging your bag off your shoulder to place it gently on the floor beside the other bag.  

He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his head back as well, closing his eyes. You both settle there, but a few moments later you let out a deep breath. “I’m bored.”  

Grinning, he replies. “It’s been 30 seconds.”  

“Yeah, well I got bored in 30 seconds.” You retort quickly and he chuckles.  

His eyes peel open and he looks you up and down. “Remember the last time we were in a small space like this?” He asks with a mischievous grin.  

Giving him a knowing look, you shake your head and whisper back. “Forget about it Morales.”  

“That camping trip, you and I had to share a tent.” He begins and you chew your bottom lip. “If I remember correctly, we had trouble being quiet that night too.”  

You let out a huff of breath and roll your eyes, his words bringing you back to the memory of the two of you fucking in a sleeping bag on a friend’s camping trip when you got paired in a tent. It didn’t mean anything, was just fun, and with the way he’s eyeing you now, it seems like he wants to have some more. “No, Frankie. We’ll get caught.”  

He steps forward so that your bodies are almost pressed against one another. “Come on baby, you won’t be bored anymore.” He reasons and you look into his deep brown eyes, he chews his lip and pops his eyebrows up and down.  

Stroking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you shrug. “Fine, but keep it quiet Morales.” You say, pointing your finger at him again.  

His head dips down and he takes your finger into his mouth, slowly dragging it through his lips till it pops out and he grins. “Trust me, you’re gonna be the one having a hard time staying quiet.”  

You let out a breath as he leans further and slots his lips against yours. You gasp into his mouth as his tongue licks into yours. Your hands begin working in tandem, he quickly grabs the towel around your waist and unties it, shoving it to the ground. Meanwhile, you’re pushing his off his shoulder and pulling his shirt over his head, knocking his hat softly onto the ground. His hands grasp at your ass as he pulls you closer, so your warm bodies are pressing against one another in the tight space.  

Hot air begins to fill the space as your breathing picks up. His hands wander every inch they can reach as they squeeze and pull at your ass and breasts. Your fingers intertwine with his hair and you moan quietly when he grabs your jaw to tip your head back to gain access to your throat. Frankie nips and sucks at your sensitive skin beneath your ear and your core pushes forward to begin rubbing against his hard cock through his thin swim trunks.  

He groans into your mouth at the pressure and then his hands find your waist and quickly spin you so you’re facing the wall. Your hands press hard against the cool drywall as your cheek rubs it. He gently kicks at your ankles, and you abide, stepping to widen your stance. He pushes his trunks down until they rest underneath his balls, and you feel his cock spring free and nudge you in the back. You wait without breath as he grabs your bikini bottoms and pulls them down your legs until they fall to your ankles. You quickly step out of them with one foot and take your place again hard pressed against the wall.  

Frankies breathing into your ear makes your cunt clench around nothing, until you finally feel his fingers graze your moistened folds. He hums, “Already wet for me. That’s my girl.” His praise sends a new flow of arousal through you.  

“Can you hurry up Morales? I’m getting bored again.” You joke and watch over your shoulder as he eyes you.  

“Won’t be saying that much longer. Won’t be saying anything actually.” With that you’re pushed further into the wall as he guides his hard cock deep into your pussy. You pinch your eyes shut at the stretch and try not to let out a deep moan. He stills and settles his forehead on your shoulder. “Fuck, just as fucking tight as I remember.” 

Your breathing begins to settle until you feel him pull back and then slam into you. “Fuck.” You whisper, tucking your head down. His strong and calloused hands clutch your waist as he begins to slowly rock into you. Fucking you senseless into the wall. Your head falls back gently against his shoulder, and he places a kiss to your temple as one of his hands rises up to hold your jaw.  

His dick nudges your cervix, and you moan. Too loud, too relaxed. His hand quickly releases your jaw and covers your mouth. “Quiet baby or I’ll have to stop.” His hushed voice whispers into your ear as his bare chest presses against your back. The heat beading off the two of you as sweat begins to develop between your bodies. As one of Frankies hands holds you quiet, his other snakes around your bodies to find your clit and your eyes squeeze shut as he continues to rail into your from behind and draw tiny circles on your sensitive bud.  

The tension begins to build in you, and you feel the familiar wave of contentment as your hands turn to fists against the wall. With another deep thrust in your pussy your walls squeeze around his thick member and your orgasm crashes into you. You’re thankful for the hand clutching your mouth as you whimper into it. Your pleasure surges him forward and he bites your shoulder to quiet himself as he spills inside you. He stills but the way his dick swells inside you makes your orgasm bloom further and you find yourself rocking your hips, continuing to fuck yourself on his sensitive cock like a dildo until he’s holding your tired body up with his arms.  

You both settle, and you rest your head again against the wall to let your breathing calm. You can feel Frankie finally peel his sweat covered body off of you, pulling his aching member out and reside to his side of the cramped closet.  

Turning, you lean down and step back into your bikini bottoms to pull them up before his spend begins to cascade down your legs. You grab your bag and pull out your shorts and T-shirt to dress yourself. He does the same, pulling his t-shirt back over his head and placing his trusted hat firmly on his head.  

After stuffing your towel into your bag, you pull out your phone again and eye the time. “Think we can slip out now?” 

He steps forward and peers at your phone. “Um, let me just check real quick.” He grabs the door handle and slowly turns it trying not to make noise as the latch clicks. The door opens slightly and the distant light from the living room is the only light illuminating the dark hallway. You both still your breathing as you listen for any sign of life. It’s quiet, no creaks, no voices, no tv on. He looks back at you and shrugs, “Seems like the coast is clear. Be quiet though.” He says pointing his finger at you and you nod, placing your phone back in your bag and preparing mentally for the treacherous walk to the front door.  

Frankie grabs his towel off the floor before slowly pushing the door open further, he looks around. “Okay, come on.” His hands reaches back and you take it as he guides you through the house. Your footsteps are quiet, and he looks around wildly for any semblance of his friends. You finally reach the front door, your breath a mere lump in your throat as he slowly unlocks the door. It creaks open and he grimaces before ushering you through. Following quickly and shutting the door behind him. You stand beside him as he pulls his keys out of his pockets and locks the door from the outside.  

He turns to you and lets out a breath, which you mirror. “Whew, that was a close call.” 

“No kidding, if we’re both gonna keep doing this, we gotta work out a schedule or something.” You say reasonably.  

He places his hands on his hips and looks you up down. “Or we could just come at the same time.” 

You give him an amused look and comment, “You just wanna fuck in their hot tub.”  

Shrugging, he says. “Maybe.”  

Grinning, you tap him on the arm and begin walking down the laneway. The cool evening Spring air bites at your bare arms and legs. He follows swiftly behind you. “Where’d you park?” He asks. 

“At the gas station down the road.” You say, gesturing to your right through the streetlight filtered night.  

“Oh, yeah that’s a good one. I’m just down there.” He says, pointing at his truck down the road in the direction you are also heading. You nod and both of you begin to walk down the sidewalk.  

“Doing anything next?” He asks, a devilish grin on his face.  

“Nah, wanna come over?” You ask, winking at him and he smirks.  

“Sure. I’ll pick up a pizza on the way.”  

Nodding, you say. “Oh, now you’re speaking my language.”  

You still in your spot as you reach his truck and he begins to cross the road, folding your arms across your chest as you watch him walk before calling out, “Hey!” 

He turns and calls back, “What?” 

“How did you break that vase with Benny?” You ask with a sly grin.  

Frankie licks his lips and lets out a chuckle. “Benny kind of, tackled me into it.”  

Your jaw drops, “He tackled you?” 

Nodding, he looks down at the pavement and then back at you. “Yeah, like I said it was after his fight, and he wanted to show me a new move he didn’t get to try out.”  

“I’m assuming alcohol was involved?” You joke.  

“Maybe.” He says with a chuckle. 

Laughing you say, “You guys are ridiculous.” 

“Yeah, but you love us.” He says, walking backwards towards his truck.  

You wave your hand casually at him and begin to walk in the direction of your car. “Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit.”  

“Yep.” He confirms, before jumping into his truck.  

Santi rounds the edge of the bed and grabs his phone off the nightstand. 

“Are they gone yet?” Yovanna asks, rubbing moisturizer on her legs in bed.  

Santi smirks, looking at his phone. “Yeah, just slipped out the front door. 20 years in special forces and they seriously didn’t think we’d have security cameras?” He says with a humorous tone. “Good idea coming home when we did, didn’t think we’d get a chance to catch both of them.”  

She shakes her head, “So, are you gonna give them shit tomorrow?”  

Santi slides into the bed and leans back, resting his arm under his head. “We’ll see, might be fun to fuck with them a little more. Payback for stealing my truck.” 

“And breaking my vase.” She comments, pointing at him and he nods.  

“And for breaking your vase.” He confirms.  

She nods and begins to rub moisturizer on her hands, looking up in thought. “What do you think they did in the closet for that long?” 

He shrugs against the bed as his eyes drift close. “If I know them at all probably just, played rock, paper, scissors or something like that.” 

[ts4hollywood]

WIP for December - Batman Variations

Batman Character portrayed by the amazing actors:

1- Michael Keaton (Tim Burton Universe)

2- Christian Bale (Chrisopher Nolan Trilogy)

3- Ben Affleck (Zack Snyder Universe)

4- Robert Pattinson (Matt Reeves Trilogy)

Check at my Patreon

[madlittlecriminal]

Jonathan Crane request where reader is a student of his (professor Crane au ish) and also happens to be the daughter of a certain millionaire in Gotham 👀

love the idea that Bruce is with Selena at this point and when he finds out about reader and Jonathan he like

“you can’t date someone with a criminal alter ego!!”

and she’s just like “really?” As she points to Selena (who’s still in her Catwoman outfit) sitting on the couch.

Meanwhile Jason is standing on the sidelines like “date who you want sis but if he makes the slightest mistake I will kill him and pretend I always thought this was a bad idea”

Hypocrites ↦ Professor!Jonathan Crane × Student!Female!Reader

so, i don't normally write for comic accurate scarecrow/jonathan crane and I don't watch Gotham, nor do I watch Titans as I'm more of a Chrisopher Nolan kinda gal, so i apologize for any errors, BUT in my head, I'm still thinking of Christian Bale, Anne Hathaway & Cillian Murphy when I write this, so once again, I apologize

Warnings: mention of getting robbed, mention of guns, reader is Wayne's adopted daughter :)

Being a Wayne had its advantages as well as its disadvantages. Anyone who saw you, assumed you were daddy's little girl, when in reality, you weren't. He never treated you differently than his sons, except for when it came to relationships as he didn't want you to be a female version of him, however, he didn't think you would come out to be in a relationship with your professor who just so happens to be the villain he's been after.

You told your dad and Selina that you had a boyfriend and while they were ecstatic, the disgust on your father's face didn't go unnoticed when Jonathan Crane came through the doors of the mansion.

First, your dad had no idea that Professor Crane was Jonathan Crane as he thought it was a funny coincidence. Second, he was taken aback that his daughter decided to get in a relationship with her professor out of all people. Selina wasn't there as she was out doing who knows what, but you didn't complain as you knew your father was in love with her just as much as she loved him.

Plus, you witnessed their flirting when he was dressed as Batman the one time, they saved you from getting robbed. It disturbed you, but you didn't say anything. You thought out of all people, your father would be understanding, but he wasn't, and it was kind of annoying.

Jonathan rested a hand on your knee, reassuring you that no matter what, he'd be there for you. "You know dad, I would've thought you, out of all people, would understand." He tilted his head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?" You shook your head, deciding not to spill his secret, especially knowing the truth about Jonathan. However, when he gave you a kiss before he left, your father nearly went crazy. Then, Selina came home and tilted her head to the side. "Everything okay, Bruce?"

"(Y/N) is with Jonathan Crane!" Selina gasped before taking off her head piece. "Really?" You glare at the both of them and scoff. "You better not give me a lecture about this!" She sat on the couch to remove her boots and raised an eyebrow. "Why not?! Sweetheart, he's a villain!" You suck your teeth, your anger bubbling. "Dad, why does it matter?! You're with a villain too, are you not?" Selina raised her eyebrows in disbelief at your words and Bruce rolled his eyes. "She's an anti-villain, first of all,"

"You know I do bad for good (Y/N)." You run a hand down your face. "Unbelievable. I thought you would understand, dad!" He shrugged as a scoff escaped his lips. "Well, I don't, sorry (Y/N)." Jason cleared his throat. "If I may, I have your back through this little sis, but like, if he breaks your heart, I'll pretend I was on Bruce and Selina's side this whole time. How does that sound?" Bruce glares at his son. "What?" Jason shrugs. "Hey, I'm not gonna Romeo and Juliet this whole thing, okay? If she's happy, I don't care! He just better not break her heart. My guns are always oiled and cleaned."

[rhinozilla]

I don't doubt that dreams can have meaning, but at the same time...You want to read about this batshit dream I had last night?

Last night I dreamt that I was driving to work and a huge passenger plane crashed in front of me...Like I had time to look up and watch it nose drive very purposefully and directly AT me. I survived by some kind of Main Character Armor and proceeded to work like normal (because I live in America). One of my staff asked me if I wanted her to give me a temporary tattoo of a gargoyle, and when I asked what she meant...because I was still reeling from my near-death by plane on the interstate...The president of the company where I work proceeded to call me stupid because she thought I didn't know how temporary tattoos work. For context, we are a small, family-owned supply company, and in reality the work environment is NEVER verbally abusive like that. I have a very positive working relationship with both of these people and my direct boss...who is also in this dream later.

So I explain why I'm zoned out to them, and also that I had seen these two UFOs at an intersection on my drive into work. Like, the stereotypical dish-shaped UFO, about the size of a microwave each. The company president proceeds to find it and snatch it out of the air like a ninja, and she and my boss are able to figure out that it's Russian spy equipment that has been harvesting our communication and using it to...wait for it...steal the Titanic.

Yes, the Russians were somehow converting American verbal communication (not the important stuff, but conversations like how are you, what I ate for dinner last night, when our next staff meeting is, etc) into some kind of energy that would allow them to create some kind of forcefield around the wreckage of the Titanic and...steal it...from the bottom of the Atlantic.

But my boss also uncovers that the scheme didn't work, the forcefield collapsed, and the Titanic has imploded because of their carelessness. Like, the ocean floor is going to now swallow up the remains of the ship and in a few hours' time, it's all going to be gone.

And it was all very dramatically timed, and all I could think of was the "I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay" from the end of Tape 1 of the 1997 Titanic film. That level of "dun dun dun" energy. I made that assessment mid-dream.

At some point we were in a submarine, "Hunt for Red October" style, as my boss was explaining this. I do not know how we got there.

So yeah...Chrisopher Nolan, get on my level.

[animehouse-moe]

Collecting Physical Anime

Thanks to the hefty words of Guillermo Del Toro (spurred on by Chrisopher Nolan), I've been going around in circles for the last few months about physical collections.

For instance, did you know that you can't legally purchase or stream The Tatami Galaxy, or that with the finalization of the merger between Funimation and Crunchy, Serial Experiments Lain will suffer a similar fate?

It's painful, and it's just the tip of the iceberg as these companies are exclusively profit driven. Similarly, community or fan projects have their own driving forces, and so the odds of a series suffering the fate of being forgotten consistently increase.

That's all to say, my trust and faith in hands that are not mine has waned greatly over the last while. So, I finally decided to start my personal collection with these four series (so far).

All said and done, these were some great deals, but I'm starting to worry about picking up series like Lain since it's so rare. Though, it's a better fate than leaving them to be forgotten, or having to search the darker corners of the internet for a good encode.

[mariusreviews]

“there must be no barriers to freedom of inquiry. there is no place for dogma in science. the scientist is free, and must be free to ask any question, to doubt any assertion, to seek for any evidence, to correct any errors.”

“oppenheimer”, christopher nolan's astonishing brand new biopic about “the father of the atomic bomb” j. robert oppenheimer is an absurdly immersive three hour cinematic experience, combined with outstanding performances from a star-studded cast. this film is not your normal biopic, but an insane character study taking a deeper look into the life and thoughts of one of the most vital figures in recent history. a monumental story brought to the grandest stage possible, which managed to blow me wholeheartedly away, figuratively and literally. as someone who wasn’t too familiar with oppenheimer prior to watching this I particularly enjoyed the level of detail put into the film meanwhile still upholding a very fast pace, never leaving me feeling bored or disinterested. 

as for standout performances, three actors in particular stood out to me. cillian murphy, emily blunt and robert downey jr all had oscar-worthy performances in my opinion and were the heart and soul of this film. the duality and complexity of the characters was acted out incredibly well by every single person involved emphasising the feeling of you questioning everything you just experienced for days after leaving the cinema.

overall “oppenheimer” is such a ridiculous achievement in filmmaking and chrisopher nolan should be proud to add another masterpiece to his already impressive collection. In the moment It felt like I was experiencing a future-classic and I can’t wait to revisit it.

| 5STARS ***** |

[talbeh]

Jordan Peele has been recognized as one of the best horror film producers, alongside individuals such as Chrisopher Nolan and Alfred Hitchcock. A Peele movie that I have recently watched is “Us.”  This film incorporates thrill and horror, to announce a powerful message. I believe that all of Peele’s films are powerful, and well constructed, but “Us,” may be one of my favorites. This film follows a family that is on vacation in Santa Cruz. The protagonist, Adaline has traumatic memories of a beach in Santa Cruz, where a horrific event happened there in her childhood. Adeline wandered off from her dad, and found an intriguing attraction on the beach. She enters the attraction when she comes across an individual that looks exactly like herself. She runs back to the boardwalk, where her parents were, terrified. She was so terrified that she was unable to speak. The movie is based on Adeline and her family, in the present, as they revisit the beach in Santa Cruz, as they face abnormal things. Adeline’s nightmare turns into reality when she is faced with the site of her doppelganger once again, but this time the doppelganger was accompanied by the doppelgangers of her entire family. The doppelgangers were dressed in red jumpsuits, and have come for one motive, to kill Adeline and her family. Adeline soon realizes that her family is not alone, and the whole community is being attacked by their sinister doppelgangers.  Although the doppelgangers looked identical to their counterparts, they acted very differently, almost monster-like. The only individual in a red jumpsuit that was able to talk, was Adelines doppelganger, the rest made animal-like noises as a way of communication.  As Adeline and her family fight off the redcoats, they realize that the doppelgangers are rebelling for a larger reason, as they find them gathering together joining hands on the beach. Adeline goes face to face with her doppelganger, as her doppelganger explains that they are rebelling because they are sick of the way that they have been treated. Adeline and her community have the privilege to live above ground, and enjoy their lives, while the doppelgangers live in the vacant tunnels below ground, trapped. The end of the film was by far the most chilling, as the audience finds out that Adeline was kidnapped by her doppelganger when she was little, as her doppelganger replaced her in the life above ground. The reason Adeline’s character was the only one that had a doppelganger that was able to talk, was because she was actually Adeline. 

This film sent a powerful message to its audience, as it presented the oppression people from lower social classes in society feel. The individuals living above ground represent the rich and privileged, while the doppelgangers represent people that are poor and unprivileged. People of low social class do not really have a voice in their community, and are oftentimes associated with negative stereotypes, just as the people that lived in the tunnels. I believe that the point of this film was to show us that we all look the same, we’re all human, so we should all get equal rights and privileges.

#UCLA

[princemick]

Christopher Nolan went wild with having Joseph Gordon Levitt, Cillian Murphy, and Tom Hardy in one move and gagging Cillian for some reason. The man has a type and it’s dilfs with blue eyes.

again, reasons why chrisopher nolan is one of my favorite directors

[perfectlywisedelusions]

currently watching the dark knight trilogy, and bane just blew up all the bridges surrounding gotham. and at this point, if i was there, i’m just swimming for the mainland i don’t care. same deal if i was on the joker’s ferry. i’m not going to wait to get blown up i’m jumping in that super polluted river and making a break for it.

also i love how they got overhead shots of chicago for gotham city but can’t show it’s chicago so they just edit out the trump tower logo and alter a few buildings slightly. but you can’t fool me i see that shit.

[kawaiijellymonster]

I am again thanking everyone who watched a Christopher nolan film and immediately started writing fics, bc it let me watch tenet and immediately start reading fics

[ts4hollywood]

WIP for December (Part 2) - The Joker Variations

The Joker Character portrayed by the amazing actors:

- 2x Masks Jack Nicholson (Tim Burton Universe)

- 2x Masks Heath Ledger RIP (Chrisopher Nolan Trilogy)

- 2x Masks Jared Leto (Zack Snyder Universe / old DCEU)

- 2x Masks Joaquin Phoenix (Todd Phillips Standalone)

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Christopher Nolan: The Man Who Wasn’t There by Daniel Carlson

1.

So, we’ll start with the fact that all movies are make-believe. It’s a bunch of actors on a set, wearing costumes and standing with props picked out by hordes of people you’ll never see, under the guidance of a director, saying things that have been written down for them while doing their best to say these things so that it sounds like they’re just now thinking of them. We all know this—saying it feels incredibly stupid, like pointing out that water is wet—but it’s still worth noting. There is, for example, no such person as Luke Skywalker. Never has been, never will be. He was invented by a baby boomer from Modesto. He is not real.

And we know this, and that’s part of the fun. We know that Luke Skywalker isn’t real but is being portrayed by an actor (another boomer from the Bay Area, come to think of it), and that none of the things we’re seeing are real. But we give ourselves over to the collective fiction for the greater experience of becoming involved in a story. This is one of the most amazing things that we do as humans. We know—deep down, in our bones, without-a-doubt know—that the thing we’re watching is fiction, but we enter a state of suspended reality where we imagine the story to be real, and we allow ourselves to be moved by it. We’ve been doing this since we developed language. The people telling these stories know this and bring the same level of commitment and imagination and assurance that we do as viewers, too. The storyteller knows that the story isn’t real, but for lack of a better way to get a handle on it, it feels real. So, to continue with the example, we’re excited when Luke Skywalker blows up the Death Star because he helped the good guys win. For us viewers, in this state of mutually reinforced agreement, that “happened.” It’s not real, but it’s “real”—that is, it’s real within the established boundaries of the invented world that we’ve all agreed to sit and look at for a couple of hours. Every viewer knows this, and every filmmaker acts on it, too. Except:

Christopher Nolan does not do this.

2.

There’s no one single owner or maker of any movie, and anyone who tells you different has their hand in your pocket. But there’s an argument to be made that when somebody both writes and directs the movie, it’s a bit easier to locate a sense of personhood in the final product. (This is all really rough math, too, and should not be used in court.) Christopher Nolan has directed 11 films to date, and while his style can be found in all of them, his self is more present in the ones where he had a hand in the shaping of the story—and crucially, not just that, but in the construction of the fictional world. Take away the superhero trilogy, the remake of a Norwegian thriller, the adaptation of a novel, and the historical drama, and Nolan’s directed five films that can reasonably be attributed to his own creative universe: Following (1998), Memento (2000), Inception (2010), Interstellar (2014), and Tenet (2020). These movies all involve themes that Nolan seems to enjoy working with no matter the source material, including identity, memory, and how easily reality can be called into question when two people refuse to concede that they had very different experiences of the same event. Basically, he makes movies about how perception shapes existence. How he does this, though, is unlike pretty much everybody else.

Take Inception. After a decade spent going from hotshot new talent to household name (thanks to directing the two highest-grossing Batman movies ever made, as well as the first superhero movie to earn an Oscar for acting), he had the credit line to make something big and flashy that was also weird and personal. So we got an action movie that, when first announced in the Hollywood trades, was described as being set within “the architecture of the mind.” Although this at first seemed to be a phrase that only a publicist could love, it turned out to be the best way to describe the film. This is a film, after all, about a group of elite agents who use special technology to enter someone’s subconscious dream-state and then manipulate that person’s memories and emotions. The second half of the film sees team leader Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) and the rest of the squad actually descend through multiple nested subconsciouses to achieve their goal, even as they’re chased every step of the way by representations of Mal (Marion Cotillard), Dom’s late wife, who committed suicide after spending too much time in another’s subconscious and lost the ability to discern whether she was really alive or still in the dream-world.

I say “representations” because that’s what they are: Mal is long dead, but Dom still feels enormous guilt over his complicity in her actions, and that guilt shows up looking like Mal, whose villainous actions (the representation’s actions, that is) are just more signs of Dom not being able to come to grips with his own past. It’s his own brain making these things up and attacking itself, and it chases his entire crew down three successive layers of dream worlds. You get caught up in the movie’s world as a viewer, and you go along because Nolan is pretty good at making exciting movies that feel like theme-park rides. You accept that Dom and everybody else refer to Mal as Mal and not, say, Dom. Dom even addresses her (“her”) when her projection shows up, speaking to her as if she’s a separate being with her own will and desires and not a puppet that he’s pretending not to know he’s controlling. It’s only later that you realize that the movie is in some ways just a big-budget rendition of what it would look like to really, really want to avoid therapy.

Which is what makes Nolan different from other filmmakers:

None of this is actually happening.

Again, yes, it’s happening in the sense that we see things on screen—explosions, chases, a fight scene in a rotating hallway that’s still some of the best practical-effects work in modern action movies—but within the universe of the film, none of what’s going on is taking place in the real world. It’s all unfolding in the subconsciouses of Dom’s teammates. In the movie’s real world, they’re all asleep on a luxury jet. They’re “doing” things that have an outcome on the plot, but Nolan sets more than half the movie inside dreams. It’s a movie about reality where we spend less time in reality than in fantasy. Half the movie is pretend.

For Nolan, filmmaking is about using a dazzling array of techniques to create a visual spectacle that distracts the viewer from the fact that the real and true story is happening somewhere else: in the fringes we can’t quite see, in the things we forget to remember, or even in the realm of pure speculation.

3.

Memento arrived like (and with) a gunshot. It seemed to come out of nowhere and leave people struggling to describe it, and they usually wound up saying something like “it goes backward, but also forward at the same time, except some parts are actually really backward, like in reverse, so it’s maybe a circle?” Written by Christopher Nolan from an idea originally shared with him by his brother, Jonathan (who eventually turned it into a very different short story titled “Memento Mori”), the film follows a man named Leonard (Guy Pearce) who has anterograde amnesia and can’t form new memories, so every few minutes he sort of just resets and has to figure out where he is, what he’s doing there, and so on. He’s on the hunt for the man who attacked him and his wife, leaving his wife dead and Leonard in his present condition, which you can imagine does not make the gathering and synthesis of clues easy.

What’s more, Nolan puts the viewer in Leonard’s shoes by breaking the film’s linear timeline into two halves—call them A and B—and then alternating between them, with the added disorientation coming from the fact that one of those timeline halves plays out backward, with each successive scene showing what happened before the one you previously saw. So, if you numbered all the scenes in each timeline in chronological order, they’d look something like this when arranged in the final film: Scene A1, Scene B22, Scene A2, Scene B21, Scene A3, Scene B20, etc. You get why it messed with people’s heads.

As a result, we spend most of the movie pretty confused, just like Leonard, whose suppositions about what might or might not take place next begin to substitute for our own understanding of the film. It’s not until the end that we find out the shoe already dropped, and that Leonard killed the original attacker some time ago and has since been led on a series of goose chases by his cop friend, Teddy (Joe Pantoliano), who’s planting fake clues to get Leonard to take out other criminals. In other words, we realize that the story we thought was happening was pretend, and the real story was happening all around us, in the margins, memories, and imaginations of the characters. The most honest moment in the movie is the scene where Leonard hires a sex worker to wait several minutes in the bathroom while he gets in bed, then make a noise with the door to wake him, at which point his amnesia has kicked in again and he briefly thinks that the noise is being made by his wife. He’s wrong, of course, but this is the only time in the movie that we actually know he’s wrong. It’s the only time we truly know what’s real and what isn’t.

Yet you can’t talk about Memento without talking about Following, Nolan’s first feature. Although the film’s production was so extremely low-budget you’d think they were lying—the cast and crew all had day jobs and could only film on the weekends, so the thing took a year to make—Nolan’s willingness to dwell completely in a make-believe world that the viewer never knows about is already evident. It’s about a bored young writer who starts following strangers through the city for kicks, only for one of those strangers to catch him in the act and confront him. The stranger introduces himself as Cobb—I kindly submit here that it is not a coincidence that this is also Leonardo DiCaprio’s character’s name in Inception, but you already knew that—and reveals himself to be a burglar, spooked by the tail but willing to take on an apprentice. Cobb trains the writer to be a burglar, only for the situation to ultimately wind up implicating the writer himself in a complex blackmail plot. You see, the writer didn’t latch onto Cobb in a crowd; Cobb lured him in. The whole movie has been Cobb’s story all along, with the writer as a patsy who doesn’t understand the truth until the final frame. None of what we saw mattered, and everything that actually happened happened off-screen just before or just after we came in on a given scene. It’s like realizing the movie you’re watching turned out to be just deleted scenes from something else. You can’t say Nolan didn’t show his hand from the start.

4.

That same general concept—that the movie we’re watching is actually the knock-on effect of a movie we’ll only glimpse, or maybe never even see—underpins Nolan’s latest movies, Interstellar and Tenet, too. Interstellar has some concepts that are iffy even for Nolan (it makes total sense for someone to do something for another out of love, but somewhat less sense that that love somehow reshapes the physical universe), but it’s still a big, bold approach to exploring how time and perception shape our actions. As the film follows its core group of astronauts while they search for potentially habitable new worlds, they encounter strange visions and experiences that turn out to be their handiwork from the future reflected back at them. Sure, it raises the paradoxical question of whether they had a first mission before this that failed, so now their future selves are intervening to make the second one (which feels like the first one to the astronauts the whole time) successful, and all sorts of other stuff that your sophomore-year roommate would like to talk with you about in great detail. But so much of what we see isn’t the stuff that happens, or that winds up being important. There’s the great scene where the astronauts land on a planet near a black hole, which is wreaking havoc on how time passes on the planet. A minor disaster delays their departure for the main ship still in orbit, but when the landing team returns, they find that more than 20 years have “passed” since they left, with the one remaining team member on the ship having spent more than two decades waiting for them to return. It’s a moment of genuine horror, and it underscores the fact that what we thought was the one true reality was just the perspective of a handful of characters we happened to follow for a few minutes. There were whole things happening that changed the plot and story and direction of everything that would follow, and we never saw them; we didn’t even know we’d missed them.

Tenet is, of course, the latest and most recursive exploration yet of Nolan’s obsession with showing us a story that turns out to be mostly fake. It is almost perversely hard to even begin to explain the film (Google “Tenet timeline infographic” and have fun). One way to think about it is to imagine if the two timeline halves from Memento somehow existed at the same time, with people moving both forward and backward through time while inhabiting the same location. Basically, some scientists figured out how to “invert” the basic entropy of objects, so that they exist backward: you hold out your hand and the ball on the ground leaps up into it, because you’ve dropped it in the future, so now you can pick it up, etc. … Look, it doesn’t get easier to understand.

The upshot is, though, that we spend the film following the Protagonist (that’s his name), a CIA agent played by John David Washington, as he’s tasked with tracking down the source of the inverted stuff to figure out what’s unfolding in the future and why it’s suddenly started to make itself known in the present. He gets marginally closer to understanding the truth by the end of the film, but because this is a Nolan film that is maybe more expressly about the nature of reality than anything he’s ever done, his journey doesn’t so much take him forward as it does in a large circle. Because, and stop me if you’ve heard this, the true story of Tenet is taking place outside the Protagonist’s actions and knowledge, alongside him but invisible, often steered by people who themselves are moving “backward” through time and thus have already met the Protagonist in the future and are old friends with him by the time he meets them in his youth. Even more brain-liquefying, some of these people have been working under the orders of the Protagonist himself—the future version, that is—because his past self has already achieved the victories that allowed him to send the future people backward through time to meet his younger self so they’d achieve the victories that allow him to etc., etc., etc.

With Tenet, Nolan didn’t just make a movie that challenged perception, like Memento, or that dwelt in fiction, like Inception. He made a movie that can only be understood (to whatever degree true understanding is possible) by rewatching the movie itself, over and over, as the multiple timelines and harrowingly complex bits of cause and effect come into some kind of focus. The whole movie itself isn’t happening, in a sense, but is just the ramifications of something else, the echoes of a shout whose origin we’re straining to pinpoint. It both is and isn’t.

5.

Christopher Nolan is a talented director of action-driven suspense thrillers. He’s canny at controlling the audience’s emotions, and he knows how to put on a dazzling show. Plus he’s fantastic at picking when to deploy non-computer-generated effects for maximum impact. But you could say that about a lot of other directors, too. What sets Nolan apart from the rest, and what makes him a director to keep watching and returning to, is the teasing way his movies wind up being just deceptive enough to fool you into thinking that you know what’s going on, then just harsh enough to disabuse you of that notion. Looking at what seems to drive him, I don’t think Tenet is his best movie-movie, but it’s his most-Nolan movie. It’s almost a culmination of his continuing efforts to tell stories where what you see and what actually happens are two different things. It’s not that he makes puzzles to solve. There is no solving these movies. Rather, it’s that he sculpts these delicate artifacts that only let you see two dimensions at a time, never all three, no matter how you twist your head. Craning back and forth, you can almost see the whole thing, but not quite. Some part of it will always have to exist in your memory. And that’s where Christopher Nolan likes to be.

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