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redantsunderneath · 5 years

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Marlene Dietrich/Josef von Sternberg marathon: The Blue Angel, Morocco (1930), Dishonored, and Shanghai Express (1931)

I watched all of these films, the Blue Angel in German (which surprisingly didn’t hurt, though I might have missed some puns), so I could be prepped for the great movie podcast “There’s Sometimes a Buggy” that is covering the collaboration that made Marlene Deitrich as we know her. I don’t have a lot of exposure (more on my movie history later) to the early talkie years so these movies were a bit surprising to me on a lot of fronts, not the least reason for which was that I wasn’t brought up in rape culture, I guess (is this what people mean when they say that? cause, jeesh! every movie, the threat is just there). Funny enough, I felt that The Blue Angel was the only one that was really political to me along axes that felt vital, which is peculiar as the other three were about political conflict of factions/nations and make statements about war, nationalism, and the other, but I guess they don’t seem political in a sense that fits with current discourse. I didn’t see the CPC officer in Shanghai Express as pro communist but as a tentative stab at ambivalent nuance of the other’s perspective, a tipping of the hand that there’s a western-centracism in his absurd rape code (this is a common feature through the films of a “first claim” that a certain type of man has on a woman that has nothing to do with what she wants), and as ultimately an example of the brutality of violent conflict (more pointed because he’s been fleshed out). But I admit, by the films' equalizing the other side (the Russians, the CPC and even the Tunisian rebels if only by making the French Foreign Legion look so terrible) that is in itself a statement. Kubrick’s Paths of Glory seems to pick up where this leaves off.

The Blue Angel is the film I have the most to say about, and was the most interesting conceptually, but was hard to sync with for technical reasons (me not speaking German maybe being one of them). Through the films, we watch Dietrich get better at being a talkie actress and the Blue Angel doesn’t push her that hard, but this may be more a function of the camerawork and editing than anything else. Jannings somehow works better with her as a leading man than anyone but Dishonored’s McLaglen because he can fill the space created by her silent movie style of encapsulated performative moments then stasis/posing, though the let it breathe editing doesn’t help (I almost think her hand on ribcage pose starts as a need for her to have something to do when reacting that seems like a reaction). Morocco’s Gary Cooper sometimes seems like he’s in a different space than her and Shanghai’s Brook is super clipped (though she’s better adapted by then).

In Blue Angel, the effort to create composite Mise-en-scène with the ominous foreground frames is terrific (those anchors hanging down! the professor’s approach to the club!) and we have some of that German expressionist inner state stuff going on, especially at the end (the shadow of the chandelier!) but the cameraman doesn’t seem to know where to be and maybe that explains the ostensibly crappy blocking. The cinematography on the others is much better – the superimposed tracking shots in Morocco are phenomenal – and have just as many knockout myth buildingly shot scenes (too many to mention but her in a tux in Morocco, the final escape in Dishonored, the prayer in Shanghai Express). All the movies have enough differences in approach that you could think they were done by a different team (were the external shots in Morocco the ones shot by Peckinpah’s eventual AD, Lucien Ballard?).

There are all sorts of motifs running through the films: clocks (and calendars), racially insensitive dolls, men’s hats on women, skein-like drapes sometimes burned by irons vs drawn opaque shades, a man eavesdropping to get mood altering information from behind a louvered door, clowns/harlequins, throwing stuff that will need to be cleaned up on the floor/wall, makeup application in a number of functions (e.g. highlighting her performative nature, emasculation of men), sitting/sprawling on things as an act of feminine claiming of the space, guttural and animal noises as announcement we’re in a libidinal space positive or negative, the stockings, the kept animals, and all sorts of recurring human archetypes. But it’s The Blue Angel, with its full bore usage of these things plus more (eggs, nautical detritus, clock figurines, etc, that the subliminal story is the most present (though Dishonored is pretty potent).

The reason why I say Blue Angel is the most socio-political is that as a 2019 person on the internet who sees the culture war, is aware of the history of Weimar imagery as handled post Nazi, and knows what’s coming (spoilers for Hitler), the statement being made looks really complicated with a first pass of: the intelligencia’s embrace of the subaltern as primarily an instrument-possession both losses them cultural power and leaves them outside of the outgroup too, which is how, maybe, regressive populism (the students as rabble) wins. Granted this is an Iser-type hermeneutical hot take and it is complicated by the possibility that Jannings codes as pre-Hitler German populace’s growing conflation of left wing and Jewish as “dark other” (problematic, hard to bring the 1930 and 2019 horizons together on this, mileage may vary, but a case can be made) which would almost make this an anti-radical (on both sides) statement that meshes with the other movies’ anti-violence, anti group/idea allegiance, pro-people take. This is just the "bad decision" version. As for Jannings, the lumpen here is fine with him as long as he performs correctly. Maybe this is an artifact of Dietrich not being the protagonist by a director who wants her to be. The thing that really overlays this from a now standpoint, though, is the rhyming with a kind of 4chan framing where he has lost his “rightful” power, is “cucked,” and has an entitled-male rage tm (i.e. this can be read as an anti incel-ideology movie). The other movies don’t have this kind of congruence for the most part.

But the way the symbols work is pretty neat. His descent from prominent social capital to internationally renowned cock-a-doodle-do jester is marked by the change in the relationship with eggs as sexual enticement vs humiliation (and the humiliation was there from the beginning to be sure). The clown is there as a warning/future self. The special clocks that eerily suggests his/society’s demons are coming and no one can stop the forward mechanism of time. The caged bird is as you would expect. The dolls are a sort of self possession that she does test runs giving away. There’s too much to talk about.

Morocco has Cooper’s charisma going for it (which works best with Dietrich’s when they cut back and forth), the best non-closeup camerawork (the exteriors are great), large scale staging, and that cool woman in a tux mythmaking performance piece. It contains Cooper’s great non-verbal performance in the scene where he eventually writes “changed my mind” on the mirror (you can see him decide). The last scene of her trudging across the desert and throwing away her heals is great, and there is so much motion in the frame so often – the superimposition of movement that turns a dissolve into a long transitional double shot, the scene where she looks for him in the marching parade, etc. The relief map was hinky, though.

Dishonored was my favorite of the four. I liked all these films but, broken down, it had a couple of “bests” in it, but was #2 for everything else. It had the best-functioning male lead (the always in a mask non-naturalistic thing was perfect as that how she is and it balanced the space well) and a greater share of my very favorite scenes: the final escape scene, the party, the firing squad, and any any fucking piano playing (the first shot of her playing piano is my favorite shot of all the films). It’s the second best as a subliminal story (after Blue Angel), was the only one other than Shanghai Express that seemed like it had a screenplay - a story story rather than a loose idea, the idea of certain shots, the actors types, and dialogue. It had the most convincing sweep other than Morocco. The cat was a nice setting free of agency, progressing the doll as totem of self/other possession but with a mind of its own, with the power to ruin everything. This movie really vibed with me perfectly.

For Shanghai Express, see above, but I have to say I love the Disney villainess (before there were Disney villainesses) dress. The multi note secondary characters with actual performances and arcs was unique... the pastor who changes his mind on what is morally good is terrific, as are the exchanges between two fully fleshed out prostitutes and an old prude. My list is close, but If I had to order it would be Dishonored, Blue Angel, Shanghai, then Morocco, but it’s tough because the great things about each vary so much (I kept dithering on the bottom three more than #1, I considered putting Morocco 2nd).

It’s odd I’ve written this much and I haven’t broached the gender archetype pushing and pulling here, mainly because this seems pretty well mined territory. I’m under-read on this and feel like my take would be super cold -- cross dressing, Gary Cooper with a flower behind his ear, the unflinching depiction of how tough a time women have it while still depicting a kind of unique female cruelty to men, and the constant sexist statements undermined by the POV and what actually happened. Hopefully my naive viewpoint, coming at this fresh eyes will be valuable. So, like, are all these movies from this time period about class? It kind of reminds me of Impro, the Keith Johnstone book, which basically boils all theatrical character interaction to being about status.

Anyway, I’ve ignored my exegesis of Taylor Swift’s Lover to write this, so I must be back to work.

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thecrownnet · 6 years

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Emmy Voters Shouldn’t Take Netflix’s ‘The Crown’ For Granted, as It’s The Last Chance to Reward Beautifully Understated Work

Season 2 is the final chance for "The Crown" stars like Claire Foy and Matt Smith to collect Emmys as they move on to other opportunities and new stars step in.

Netflix’s lavishly appointed Season 2 of “The Crown,” which takes place from 1956-1964, landed the same number of Emmy nominations as last year (13). But the series faces a mighty lineup of dramas this time, including Season 2 of last year’s winner “The Handmaid’s Tale,” as well as the penultimate season of “Game of Thrones” and the lauded final season of “The Americans.” This intense race could be close.

Netflix knows how to campaign, and the royal saga is popular, which would appear to give it an edge. But many Emmy voters seem to take for granted how well the team led by showrunner Peter Morgan (“The Queen,” “The Audience”), who writes and delivers all ten episodes at the start of each season, pulls off an historic costume drama on a fast-paced television schedule, complete with elaborate period sets and costumes. At a hefty $6 million-$7 million per episode for 20 episodes (a total $130 million), Morgan calls it “cinematic television.”

“He doesn’t mess around,” Smith told me. “It’s the only show I’ve ever been on where all ten scripts are in pretty good lick. He manages these characters and episodes and stories we think we know well and finds an interesting angle of approach.”

The Crown (L to R) Prince Philip, Queen Elizabeth discuss Charles’ education [s2e9] Robert Viglasky / Netflix

And the acting is top-notch too, led by Golden Globe-winner Claire Foy (“Wolf Hall”) as rock-solid Queen Elizabeth. The Queen is trying to hang on to her fragile prime ministers as well as her dashing swain Prince Philip (Matt Smith) and keep the peace with her hipper sister, stylish Princess Margaret (Vanessa Kirby), who recovers from a broken heart by falling for swinging photographer Anthony Armstrong-Jones (Matthew Goode). All earned nominations this year; last time only John Lithgow as Winston Churchill took home an Emmy statue.

It’s the last round for this cast, however, as Season 3 sends in an replacement crew to play the Royals as the hit middle age, including Olivia Colman (“The Night Manager”) as the Queen, “Outlander” villain Tobias Menzies as Philip, and Helena Bonham Carter (“Sweeney Todd”) as Margaret. While the original cast are wistful to leave the “The Crown” family, they’re moving on to opportunities aplenty. Before Season 3 started filming, Kirby was in touch with Bonham-Carter every day, sending her a music playlist for Margaret. “I’m grateful to get to share Margaret with somebody,” she said. “My obsession is extreme!”

Morgan did not know when he started how popular the show would be, but he signed his stars for only two years. “I don’t think it’s fair to ask an actor to age more than 20 years,” he said at a TV Academy panel. “If we’re going to be doing 60 years, it’s not fair for them to spend five hours in makeup every day. But it’s hard for me, now that I’ve got used to how Claire is. I’ve hit my stride in writing for her, it’s writers interruptus. You meet these wonderful actors and discover what they can do. The same with Vanessa. The new cast will present new challenges–it’s hard enough without new challenges!”

Smith had already experienced giving up a popular role with Doctor Who. “I’d rather do two years than seven,” he said.

While Smith (“Doctor Who”) and Goode (“The Imitation Game”) are fairly well-known, both Foy and Kirby launched film careers with the series, from Foy’s punk hacker Lisbeth Salander in the upcoming “Dragon Tattoo” sequel “The Girl In the Spider’s Web” to Kirby’s flirtatious turn opposite Tom Cruise in summer smash “Mission: Impossible–Fallout.” Meanwhile, Smith has taken on two creepy characters, Patrick Bateman in London musical “American Psycho” and Charles Manson in upcoming “Charlie Says.”

The issue of who got paid what has hovered over the series. Although Foy was cast first as the Queen of England and commanded more screen time, she was less established at the start than Smith, who broke out as a star in Doctor Who and had salary leverage when Morgan insisted on casting him because the chemistry with Foy was so strong in their auditions. “There was electric, immediate energy in the room,” said Morgan. “The producers said, ‘look, we’re in negotiation, does he really have to be Philip?’ ‘There is no option. It has to be him.'”

So they paid him more than Foy.

“I find a huge amount of support around me and in the industry and around the world,” said Foy of her unequal pay vs. Smith, “knowing that if I don’t speak up and support myself than nobody else will. You have to be your own advocate, without being difficult, and be willing to step away from something you don’t agree with. That’s happening and it’s extraordinary.”

If Season 1 set up the royal stakes in the central fraught marriage between dashing Navy man Philip and the Queen to whom he had bow and kneel, it was also a hard act to follow. All the directors came back to shoot Season 2, including Stephen Daldry (who cherry-picked episodes eight and nine). There was more color and travel, roving from Tonga, Ghana and Papua New Guinea to the Antarctic.

With Season 2, the team moved with more confidence into the story that digs deeper into Queen Elizabeth’s relationship with her husband and her prime ministers, such as Anthony Eden (Jeremy Northam), as he colludes with Egypt on the Aswan Dam. Fashionably modern John and Jackie Kennedy come to Buckingham Palace. And old-fashioned Elizabeth faces harsh criticism from one politician, Lord Altrincham (John Heffernan), causing her to change the stilted way she speaks in public.

The cast who played royals practiced the accent constantly. “We spent all our time speaking it on set,” Kirby told me in a phone interview. “It must have pissed off the crew. We were all in it together. I tried to find a middle ground, we didn’t want to alienate people too much, I tried to make my voice slower. She sounds different by the end of the season, we’re growing up with them. “

As Morgan writes the episodes himself, he doesn’t have a writers’ room, but a researchers’ room. He sifts through history, dumping the obvious stuff in favor of delicious details that might surprise or upend conventional wisdom. “It’s an absolute joy, as a dramatist, looking at the intimate and the epic,” he said. “They are just like us and they are nothing like us.”

On “The Crown,” where the Queen tends to keep a stiff upper lip, a scene between Jackie and Elizabeth having tea and scones is as dramatic as it gets. “I’ve long been writing this for so long, everyone is so polite, I’m desperate for a fight scene,” Morgan said. “I long to write a punch-up, there’s been no blood on this show for 20 episodes. That scone was my fight scene. She buttered the scone irritatedly.”

Claire Foy, “The Crown” Stuart Hendry / Netflix

Most dramatists don’t pick an introverted, shy, middle-aged woman as their central protagonist. “With someone like Tony Soprano, any emotional response was valid: kindness, cruelty, gentleness, butchery sexiness,” said Morgan. “You don’t have that with the Queen. You’ve got her trapped within this other thing: it is very Russian doll. You’ve got the woman within the woman within the thing that is not the woman– the Crown–which is not gender specific, neither feminine or masculine. How a woman connects with that is complex, so she’s lost some of herself. She’s not an articulate person, so you can’t go on and on to explain that complexity. So someone like Claire is skilled enough to do it in repose. So you never feel that the character is not complex, because you’ve got an actor skillful enough to give you that, even in silence.”

In the editing room, Morgan found that whenever there was a missing transition he learned to rely on Foy’s reaction shots. “When Claire was on screen the whole thing was settled,” he said. “That wouldn’t involve her throwing plates. It was just the strength of her performance and how completely she inhabited the character, and how she as an actor in that character could give the whole thing an orientation and center and an anchor. As the Queen gives anchor and stability to the country, so Claire was doing in our show.”

Luckily Foy has always been a reactive listener. “I love being in a scene and not thinking about anything but what that character is thinking,” she said. “I’ve always loved listening and being able to think like the character. And this show appreciated a character who doesn’t go forward, but sits and lets people come to her. And not many shows appreciate that, they don’t put someone at the center, who’s just being and listening.”

Smith is Foy’s exact opposite. He brings a competitive athlete’s physical masculinity to Philip. “I quite like Philip’s maleness,” said Smith, “which in this day and age is interesting. And Elizabeth liked that about him.”

“Philip is a tough man,” said Smith. “Charles notoriously wasn’t, he’s the antithesis of Philip, emotional and sensitive. Philip is those things deep down. But he was growing up in a different time, he had to grow up quite quickly. He went through death and tragedy as a young man. He was essentially orphaned.”

Foy and Smith were opposites as actors. “We work in different ways,” Foy said. “We brought out in each other instantly a friendship, we’re able to give each other what we needed. Matt wants to try new things and get an extra take; I’m ready to go on the first take, to be real and never do it again. That was a tricky thing to negotiate.”

Foy admired Smith’s willingness not to make audiences like Philip. “He’s masculine and feminine, able to be emotional and vulnerable and bit of a love,” she said. “He can be incredibly selfish and you still like him, he has the gift of being likable.”

At the end of the series, as pregnant Elizabeth is lonely and isolated at Balmoral Castle in Scotland, scandal-plagued Philip finally comes to her on his knees, a supplicant. “That scene was a pain in the ass,” Smith said. “It took three days. The history is tricky. How much of it to reveal, a sensitive subject, that. With the Queen of England you never acknowledge the fact that Philip was over the abyss. I look at it as a man on his back foot fighting for his life. Whatever you say, they endure. They are a team. He makes her laugh.”

“The Crown” Alex Bailey / Netflix

On the other hand, Vanessa Kirby as Margaret gets to open up more. “The biggest gift was that she feels everything so deeply,” she said. “Whatever color of emotion she’s having is 100 percent. Claire is the master of subtle and internal; I’m sweating and spit is coming out. Margaret’s emotions are all on the surface, while Elizabeth’s are buried.”

In Season 2, Kirby gets to smash up her room a bit. Margaret is “someone in pain who descends into something quite scary,” she said. “Along comes Tony Armstrong-Jones and she meets him when she’s in the worst place.”

In the first cycle, Foy got to wear an elaborate wedding dress; now it was Kirby’s turn. “I’m not very fashionable, I wear jeans and shorts,” said Kirby. “Margaret taught me a lot, to express my internal life through costumes.” She and the costume designer Jane Petrie spent weeks choosing ratios and shapes and fabrics. “Her costumes are an indication of where she was at. Even when she trashes her room she’s wearing a gothic robe. The next morning, she’s pale in a yellow granny nighty, she had lost all sense of her identity. I wanted to take her on a journey to show how Margaret finds her place in the world. She’s born into something she couldn’t escape from.”

Meanwhile, Margaret yet again has to seek Elizabeth’s permission to marry. “I didn’t want to overplay it or underplay it,” Kirby said. “It’s a mixture of resentment and intense need and exhaustion and vibrancy. She is in active denial, looking away from Tony who is massively disloyal and destructive and dysfunctional for her. All those things in one scene feels quite scary.”

#the crown #claire foy #matt smith #vanessa kirby #matthew goode

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amwritingmeta · 7 years

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4x05 Deconstruction: How a Monster Movie Lays the Foundation for Our Love Story

(This meta is long af. Grab a blanket and a cup of your favourite beverage and maybe something nice to chew on and come explore with me!) (as ever, apologies for any repetition of previous discussion surrounding this episode, I know I’m late to the party!) (in any case, here’s my take)

Monster Movie is written by Ben Edlund, story edited by Jeremy Carver and directed by Bob Singer. This episode is one of those subtle expositional feasts for Dean Winchester’s individual character arc - i.e. his journey out of his fear of never being good enough the way he is, and understanding and believing that he’s accepted and loved entirely for who he is, moving out of his self-worth being so closely tied to what he can do for others.

Because once you’re honest with yourself about what you truly want out of life, that’s when you can begin to broaden your horizon and possibly begin to expect that there’s something more to be had, something waiting for you, if you just take that leap of faith, and dare to trust. This is endgame stuff, and I’m about to argue that Castiel was always meant to be a catalyst for Dean’s self-examination, which will reveal his hidden internal need and is the whole entire point of Dean’s character journey: to learn lessons and evolve away from the person who doesn’t believe he deserves to be saved.

Point in fact, as much as SPN overall is about searching for one’s identity, that theme is focused and part of the overarching theme of S4 in wholly new ways, established through these two exchanges:

Dean: Who are you? Castiel: I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition. Dean: Yeah? Thanks for that.

This is of course followed in the very next scene with:

Dean: Who are you? Castiel: Castiel. Dean: Yeah, I figured as much. I mean what are you. Castiel: I’m an angel of the Lord.

These two exchanges are not only the starting point for the interaction between these two characters - it’s the beginning of their entire joint journey.

Why?

Because these exchanges set up the theme of identity prevalent in this season with Dean’s questioning of Castiel’s identity, and Dean questions it not once, but twice for emphasis; the questioning ending with an assertion that Castiel doesn’t only know who he is, but what he is. (Deepened and doubly asserted in 4x02 with “I’m a soldier” - linking him to Dean with a chain so thick it could anchor a ship) (*glancing to the ceiling*)

Of course, here, at the start of S4, Castiel’s search for his identity has only just begun as well. Two journeys beginning at the same time, reflecting each other perfectly, both of the travelers carrying with them that one question: “Who are you?”which as the season progresses becomes the more profound “Who am I?”

Ok. Let’s leave that now, because the place where I really want to begin this meta on this particular episode is with a nosedive into the symbolism I see littered throughout it. So –>

The Symbolism

Black/White made me, upon some reflection, think of this symbol:

Yin/Yang.

Simplified, this symbol represents balance between opposites, two halves that together create a whole.

In Taoism, yin and yang are the starting point for change —>

—> split two sides of a whole up and the two sides will chase each other to once again find harmony together and if they can’t because you’re, you know, too closed off, well, then we have a Dean Winchester on our hands, don’t we? (and yes a Castiel) (they both wear an emotional armour of completely different types) (but they’re there)

But here’s what truly caught me up in the thought of yin and yang tied to the black and white theme of this episode: yin and yang as representative of masculine and feminine.

Disclaimer: I’m of the peeps who think that the societal construct behind assigning anything with some form of definitive gender is bullshit, to be honest, and I rather wish humanity could stop slapping labels on everything and dividing everything up into boxes, but as I see it, masculine and feminine are used in the traditional sense on the show in order to highlight the bullshit divide and so I shall use the masculine/feminine as such in this meta. Okay, disclaimer done.

Assorted Traditional Masculine traits, to be a man you need to show that you possess: strength, intellect, power, aggression, virility, bravery.

Assorted Traditional Feminine traits, to be a woman means being: nurturing, passive, tender, submissive, loving, kind, patient, understanding.

A man goes out and gets what he wants - a woman waits for whatever she’s lucky enough to get to come find her. Of course, bullshit. We all have a bit of both and we all have the ability to access and embrace these traits in ourselves. A man staying at home with the cooking and cleaning and care taking of the kids is awesome. A woman staying at home with the cooking and cleaning and care taking of the kids is awesome. What the fuck does it matter who does what as long as it gets done? And the kids are alive and happy? (fuck) (sake)

Now, let’s continue the Symbolism Nosedive with —>

The Monsters!! (grrr) (arrrgh)

Dracula: is a tormented being, yearning to be reunited with his lost love, he’s shown as a creature of deep emotion (feminine) and yet he’s driven, manipulative, competitive and unfeeling (masculine): he is quite literally a dual nature of femininity and, one could argue here, toxic masculinity. Bram Stoker’s Dracula also represents a release for repressed sexual desire and fear of the unknown, fear of that tall dark stranger who can enter your bedroom at night and slowly, but surely, turn you into something else. (ahem) (*glances at the ceiling again*) I could go on and I could go deeper, but I won’t.

The Wolf Man: is a tormented being and star of a 1941 horror film where the protagonist finds himself bitten when trying to save the life of a girl who is best friend’s with the woman he’s falling in love with. Unable to stop his own transformation from civilised man into bloodthirsty beast he grapples with his killer instinct and is finally slain by his own father (John) who doesn’t recognise the wolf is his son. Conversely, the dual nature of the werewolf symbolises the human vs. the animal within us - love vs. violence, intellect vs. primal urges. This said, the werewolf myth is linked to something else that is intriguing in the context of this episode: puberty and sexual awakening. I’ll get to why this is so intriguing a little later but here’s a teaser: it’s linked to “Agent Young” and a certain someone waking up dressed in a Hansel outfit.

The Mummy: is a tormented being, caught between life and death, but more than that this monster stands out to me because it’s not a dual nature, it’s a thing that’s died and has been preserved, but is falling apart, kept together by bandages, and has come back to life and is now searching for a way to restore its body to former glories. Yup, to me there’s a clear reason this monster stands out in a narrative primarily dealing with monsters that all are tied to confusion about ones true identity. (I’ll get to the why and the how it stands out in about 100 000 words) (kidding!) (or am I…)

The Shapeshifter: is such a tormented being you could even call this week’s true Big Bad a Dean Winchester mirror. With that backstory, I mean, I’m sure I’m not the first one to point at this. Beaten down by his father, ridiculed and hounded for being different and called a freak by society at large. Now, I don’t think John Winchester would ever have judged Dean for being bisexual, but he would judge Dean if he perceived him as weak, because emotions cloud judgment; a soldier leaves emotion behind when entering the battlefield and the Winchester’s life is a fucking battlefield, so John Winchester would feel it necessary to step into the role of drill sergeant first and father second in order to ensure the survival of both his sons.

And the army doesn’t raise soft, pliant caretakers - it raises killers.

To me, the shifter’s backstory is ALL about showing us why Dean began performing in the first place: being raised into his toxic masculinity (by default, John thinking it was for Dean’s own good) Dean’s fear of being rejected for who he truly is made him put up a front because it was safer, because he could believe in that hard shell and convince himself that all those other things he might sometimes wonder about or wish for himself, that deep longing for love and home and family, those were just pipe dreams. There’s a deeper layer to this, but I’ll explore that in my 4x06 meta.

Now, the shifter fell in love with the monsters of the classic horror films because he was called a monster for so long that he began to believe it. He’s accepted the identity someone else has dictated for him and has dressed himself in it proudly, seeing the beauty in it, but being so lost in it that he has no real identity left at all.

Nature vs nurture, guys, in its truest form.

Had someone, anyone, shown the shifter kindness while he was still open to getting to know who he was deep down inside, it might have given him the chance to accept himself, which could have given him the strength to brush off other people’s judgment as falsehoods, instead of accepting them as truth.

So, in this narrative of dual natures and conflicted identities, I see the shifter - in whom all these monster traits are combined, of course - as representative of Dean himself, and this is done for our benefit, so that we get to see inside Dean, into the internal conflict that he’s wrestling with, and has been wrestling with, for a long time.

Feminine vs Masculine

Control vs Change

Human vs Animal

Love vs Hate (or rather, frustrated rage finding an outlet in violence)

Dean’s journey has never been about shedding his manliness. This is not about changing Dean’s personality, because all of him has been shown to us over and over again. All of the above sides to him are in constant flux, in constant battle, no harmony, no balance, and we’ve always been privy to this.

What Dean has always needed is awareness (conscious or subconscious) of his internal conflict - a contrast that gives that conflict a sharper edge - because awareness means that he can open himself up to learning lessons that will show him who he truly wants to be, rather than who he’s been instructed to be and who he’s forced himself into thinking he has to be as a means of survival and doing his job - which is so much about keeping Sammy safe.

Okay, let me be more specific here, because performing!Dean and non-performing!Dean are not two separate men: they are the same man.

But performing!Dean is a security blanket that isn’t only about being the Strong and Protective Big Brother Warrior because of Sam

The performance, the blockade of walls, kept strong and in place by Dean’s need for control, is also there to shut down hope, trust and faith

Sam has always been the optimist, he’s always been full of these characteristics

While Dean grinds because you gotta keep grinding, not because he has hope and trust and faith that the grinding is leading, without question, to the desired goal and result–

–the way Sam does

The performance is there to protect Dean from getting his hopes up, from trusting there’ll be something good around the next corner, keeping him from opening up his heart because every single time he has ever done that, he’s been hurt or the rug has been pulled out

To Dean, there was never going to be a happy ending for him, there was never going to be a future of settling down and growing old with someone - the thing he deep down longs for the most - there was always only going out in a blaze of glory in the cards, so why should he care?

Why should he focus on anything but Sam?

The two of them, that’s enough, and Dean’s love for his brother is not a performance

And, of course, the performance - the walls of toxic masculinity - also comes down plenty. Non-performing Dean shows us that Dean is never a dog with women. He may be the love-em-and-leave-em type of guy (because of his fear of rejection if he stuck around for more than a night) but he’ll give them the time of their life (like with Lisa). And we know he’s capable of vulnerability (the tearful call to John in 1x09 for example) and shows willingness to open himself up (like with Cassie), but for all intents and purposes, Dean Winchester does not engage with matters of his heart.

Because down that road lies nothing but disappointment and pain.

However. These conflicting sides are - in Monster Movie - being brought into the foray and Dean is shown to be aware. So very aware.

Who or what has made Dean aware of this conflict within him, though?

Hint hint –>

Yes, of course the correct answer is: Who is Castiel?

As Ever, the Destiel of it All: Because you may rightfully ask me now what all these monster and identity things actually have to do with our love story. Isn’t this all to do with Dean’s individual arc and his journey as a character, no matter how Castiel may be, in my opinion, the clear catalyst for change?

Well, I’m about to argue, once and for all, that the love story itself - not just Castiel as a character - is integral to Dean’s character growth because —>

This whole entire episode is exposition for how Dean’s true coming of age story has begun through meeting Cas

Cas’ appearance, and Dean’s undeniable fascination and attraction to this winged mercenary, brings with it a sense of budding hope and a longing for the ability to have faith (in other words - to trust in something other than himself, which is the basis for Dean letting go of his need for control, which is the biggest tripper-upper for him always)

In this episode the seeds for Dean’s continuous examination of himself are actually planted for us (all of this examination will grow and blossom purely in the subtext of the show, of course)

And the foundation of the love story that is also laid down throughout this season is integral to Dean’s character growth

Because if Dean had never met Cas he would - narratively - never had had any reason to open up and be honest with himself about what he really wants in life: to be loved for who he is

And he would never have thought he deserved it, because he would never have cause to reflect on whether he does or not

And so the brodependency would have been left unchecked, because all of Dean’s self worth would still have been tied to Sam

And since Cas is the catalyst and our love story is the foundation for our protagonists entire character growth, it makes sense that the reward at the end of the journey, once all the lessons have been learned, is happiness for Dean with the man he loves, who loves him back for who he is

Now, change doesn’t come easy - and we have Yellow Fever to underline exactly how uneasily it comes for Dean Winchester and a further nine years of story telling to underline how slowly one has to go in order to change one’s fundamental perception of oneself - and to dare believe that good things do happen, even when all your experience goes against the very notion.

So, with the lay of the land before you, let us dissect and see if I can bring you over to this beautiful view.

(I find it beautiful) (you may scorn and toss your hair and walk out because you might think WHAT FUCKING VIEW??) (it will still be beautiful to me damnit!) (okay moving on)

My deconstruction of the episode below the line because it is long af (I did warn you) and I hope you’ve got something nice to nibble on and somewhere comfortable to sit and that you’re still with me! Here we go –>

The Episode

Scene 1, frame 1, minute 1. (yeah ok I’m not going to do it like that)

1. Welcome to Pennsylvania

Sam and Dean are in Baby, arriving at the state border of Pennsylvania, and Sam isn’t all that excited about investigating a random case when the world is ending, while Dean is optimistically making this remark:

Dean: Come on, man, it’s like the good old days. An honest to goodness monster hunt. About time the Winchesters got back to tackling a straightforward, black and white case.

The reason I even got hung up on the fact that the episode is in black and white is because it’s stated in dialogue. Whenever something is added in dialogue it usually means it has actual bearing on, or at least is there to add weight to, the plot itself. Which, in this instance, taking into consideration the overarching theme of confused identity and feminine vs masculine, the black and white truly does.

So even if it’s casual or a hooded remark, like this one, it’s mentioned in dialogue because the writers want the audience to be perfectly aware of it.

Just as the “straightforward” is a tongue-in-cheek underlining of how nothing is fucking “straight”forward on this show. Especially not when Dean also tries to do a callback to the good old days, when monsters were monsters and killing them was done without hesitation and times, as Dean wants to recall them, were simple and less confusing. Of course, they never were that. Using “the good old days” is the biggest reveal to Dean’s emotional state of this entire scene. It ties directly in with the horrors of Hell that Dean is trying to ignore, but it also ties in with his fear of the unknown, of anything changing, especially changing in ways that are out of his control.

Feeling like this longing for something more - this sudden, almost soft hope that perhaps there actually is something more to be had because someone told him there is, someone has put that thought in his head, someone terrifying and unpredictable and absolutely, absolutely fucking awesomely surprising - feeling like that hope is something he can’t suppress would send control freak Dean Winchester into a complete and utter panic of overcompensation for things needing to stay as they’ve always been, for him to stay the way he’s always been. No? Yes. Oh, yes, it would. Just look at how this episode plays itself out.

(Erik Kripke. Ben Edlund. Bob Singer. Jeremy Carver. I. Love. These. Men.)

2. Oktoberfest

(Pssst: Do you know what the origin of Oktoberfest is? It was to celebrate the marriage between Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Therese, taking place in Bavaria in 1810) (just funny) (because Dean is so eager to engage with a tradition he considers tied to partying and getting laid) (when hidden from view is how the tradition began as an acknowledgement of commitment and a long and happy future with the person you love) (I mean shrug right?) (let’s shrug it up for the coincidence of a hidden, deeper meaning in the very setting of the episode itself) (it’s so uncharacteristic of the show anyway) (*small smile*)

As the brothers arrive to town, we now come to understand that here is the beginning of the long-legs-and-cleavage appearances, and yes, they will continue throughout the episode (and will continue to be prevalent throughout the entire season) (has Dean ever said “cheerleader” as often as in this season?)

Anyway, one of the pretty “bar wenches” is posing for a photograph taken by… well, a middle-aged man who looks like the poster boy for either mid-life crisis or just a tourist creep, I mean, that shot is set up as though you’re supposed to react to this: the young girl exposed to the male gaze and the male gaze delighting, while the young girl is in a submissive position of not being able to do much about it because this is her role in the scenario, right? But why is she even in that role in the first place?

So Sam and Dean walk into the square, Dean bringing up going to see the new Raider’s movie, mostly so Sam can say “You were in Hell” - planting that fact as part of this episode because Dean will later talk with our Girl of the Week Jamie about his “near death experience”.

Dean spots a “big pretzel” and goes for it, Sam watching him as though it’s nice to see Dean happy and excited. Dean’s back. They’re on a case. It’s a nice moment. Dean is also acting like a child at a fairground, which is another thing that has a bearing on this narrative (and on how his arc is built across this season). Eating the pretzel Dean is greeted by Jamie and is immediately taken with her because pretty.

They speak to the sheriff and Sam takes the lead, introducing them as Dean is still munching on his penis pretzel. And now we get Agent Young. My darling Agent Young, what a fucking amazing choice of an alias for this particular case. Why not Pan? You’ll never catch me and make me a man! Well, dude, you may resist all you want but we all know that you’re on the track to manhood. We’ve seen it now. And you cut quite the figure. Adult Dean alongside Adult Sam are going to kick ass even harder than they have so far done! S13 is going to be epicness! (digression)

3. Morgue

Feminine and masculine representation in this episode, as said, is interesting. The sheriff - a male authority figure - is dismissive of the female victim, complaining heartlessly of how her death is the last thing the town needs during tourist season.

Sam is annoyed and calls the sheriff out on his thoughtlessness saying:

Sam: Definitely the last thing Marissa Wright needed.

The sheriff goes on to paint a vivid picture of the probable perp - who must be a freak, right? And then laments over having to give into Ed Brewer’s insistence that his testimony be taken; the sheriff asserting his judgment over another man as well. Yeah, my point is that there is toxic masculinity all over this dude. What I love is that Dean doesn’t react to it, whereas Sam takes a stand against it: fucking subtle and still so in character it almost hurts.

4. Dean Never Forgets a Pretty Everything

Sam and Dean go to the local pub. Lucy is in our immediate line of sight and tied to Jamie straight off. Dean is pleased to see Jamie, Jamie remembers him from earlier. It’s all very memorable.

Now, let me be frank —> I love Jamie. I love her so much.

First reason, her name. Her feminine/masculine combined into one name.

Second reason, her attitude. This girl is smart, witty and self-confident. She has sass. Moreover, she knows who the fuck she is, she knows her worth, she knows she’s a catch and any guy should be lucky to have her.

Third reason, she’s protective of Ed. She is the complete opposite of the toxically masculine Sheriff.

Fourth reason, she sees right through Dean, and that’s shown in this dialogue:

Jamie: Wait a minute, you’re a fed? Wow, you don’t come on like a fed. Seriously? Dean: I’m a maverick, ma’am. A rebel with a badge. The one thing I don’t play by - the rules.

He winks at her. She’s mostly amused. The fact that she doesn’t buy his bullshit for a minute, but that she appreciates it for what it is - hiding that good guy underneath it all - is gorgeous because the very reason she’s giving him the time of day is that she can see there’s more there. And I love this exposition in an episode where Dean is beating against this soft tug inside of him that is threatening him with a possible longing for change, trying his damnedest to keep up his performance.

Give it one more scene and I’ll dig into why I’m feeling this so strongly.

But first —>

5. Ed Brewer

Ed is a character. Perhaps the boys even understand why the Sheriff was rolling his eyes and sighing and uming-and-ahing over having to pretend to take this guy seriously. Ed is not a toxic masculinity type of guy, though. He’s a nervous, glances-over-his-shoulder-when-walking-home-alone type of skittish guy. Harmless. Weak, even. And openly judged for it by on of our representative for toxic masculinity. Yuuuuuuup, indeed.

6. Agent Young and the Bar Wench

Now we get back to perfoming!Dean.

Alright, back to the episode!

Because now Dean is happily up to old tricks. Meaning he is absolutely, most certainly, out to get laid. After talking to Ed, the brothers write the case off as not their thing, but Dean says they should stick around, their room’s already paid for.

He makes another pass at Jamie, strikes out for a second time, but is happy for the chase, because - and I can barely even believe Edlund did this, it’s too good - Dean reckons he came back new.

As in: a virgin. (a fucking virgin)

And who made him feel touched for the very first time? Well, let’s take stock of his exchange with Sam —>

Dean: Man, it is time to right some wrongs. Sam: Come again? Dean: Look at me. I mean, I came back from the furnace without any of my old scars, right? No bullet wounds, no knife cuts, none of the off-angled fingers from all the breaks, my hide is as smooth as a baby’s bottom, which leads me to conclude, sadly, that my virginity is intact. Sam: What? Dean: I have been rehymenated. Sam: Please. Maybe angels can pull you out of hell, but no one can do that. Dean: Brother - I have been rehymenated. And the dude will not abide.

I mean, what can I say, what can one do here but applaud Ben Edlund?

This episode in its entirety is one huge neon sign for Dean’s bisexuality, as well as the already mentioned underlining of the inner conflict attached to it, and, to me, that underlining begins right here because it’s stated in this above dialogue.

How?

Well, peeps, men do not have a hymen. Do you know what has a hymen? VAGINAS.

Why does this matter? Isn’t Dean just making a joke?

Well, yes, he could be making a crude joke, hinting at virginity being only a female affliction and the masculine “dude” (his dick, essentially, when read superficially) will not abide. But look at how the dialogue is structured.

Dean never mentions Cas by name because that would be way, way too personal a statement to make. (Also way too early to tie Cas so unequivocally to Dean’s frame of mind by mentioning his name in dialogue, but we all know.) This is more or less Dean saying: Yeah, Cas pulled me out of hell and fucking purified me of sin, delivering me back to the world as smooth as a baby’s bottom and feeling like a virgin. (he left his handprint on my arm but we don’t talk about that) So what can I possibly do but fight against this tooth, nail and claw? Get myself back the way I was before. Get back to the good old pre-Hell days when I knew who I was, because all this weird longing and crap that’s going on in my head right now, I do not want it.

But dig deeper and this is how I read it —> Dean, in dialogue, divides himself into feminine and masculine.

I have been rehyminated. And the dude will not abide.

Elaboration: his feminine side is beginning to wink knowingly at him going isn’t this much nicer, to feel pure and whole and filled with hope for the future, rather than engaging in meaningless sex to cower from your fear of intimacy, stemming in your fear or rejection, linking directly to your lack of self-worth? And his toxic masculinity replies with an ever reverberating FUCK OFF.

And if Castiel is the one who rehymenated Dean - which of course he is - then Cas must be linked to the opposite of The Dude: The Dude that is on the hunt in the same fashion he has always been on the hunt. Consider The Dude in this scenario to be representative of the dudebro performance side of Dean. Meaning The Dude is Dean’s toxic masculinity, thank you, Ben Edlund. This while Cas - in dialogue - by being what restored Dean’s virginity is directly linked to the side that The Dude cannot abide. The side he is telling to FUCK THE FUCK OFF.

Ok, let me clarify how this speaks to me:

Castiel is here hinted at being linked to, and even representative of, non-performing Dean

And performing Dean feels fucking threatened

Castiel’s appearance on the scene is making Dean dare to engage with that feeling, deep down, telling him maybe there’s something else that he really wants, making him dare feel hope and the first glimmer of faith - and the dude will not abide the threat of change (and his slow death)

So let’s find a girl and talk about having sex with her as though it’s going to clear away the virginity (rebirth/new beginning) that meeting Castiel has left Dean with

This dialogue tells us that Cas is tied to the side of Dean that longs for true love, home, stability, family. It’s not pronounced yet, but the beginning of it is there, that fascination, that pull Cas has on Dean is just waiting to bloom into more, and deep down Dean knows it. I’ll come to why this episode made me convinced of this in just a few scenes!! (you still with me?)

4. The Wolf Man

A young guy is lying to his girlfriend about how guys need sex to not get backed up (toxic masculinity) and his girlfriend is about to oblige (submissive caretaker), but the guy is murdered by a werewolf. Moral of this tale: don’t lie to get girls in bed. (moral comes back around in the narrative of this episode) Also, yes, callback to more innocent times when teenage girls would fall for this bullcrap and I do doubt they actually do fall for it in our times of dickpics and snapchats. (shudder)

5. Back at the Bar

Shit is getting real after this werewolf murder. (It’s giving Dean a headache) (and rightly so) (if you think of this narrative as completely reflective of what he’s dealing with internally) (ahem)

Sam and Dean are back at the pub and Jamie tells Dean she gets off work at eleven and I love this, because Jamie demonstrates a rather typical way they use female stereotypes on this show: she’s a sexual fantasy, sure, but moreover she has brains and sass - she takes control and shows a layer of real personality. She goes against the female blonde victim stereotype.

Plus she has, as we’re about to learn, empathy as well. She’s a human being, not just a pair of long legs and a low cut blouse. It tells us what? Not to judge people on their looks alone, because we stereotype everyone we meet, whether we want to or not.

Dean: Hey, you think this Dracula could turn into a bat. That’d be cool.

And adorkable. Cool and adorkable. Dean at his finest.

(Dean and his obsession with bats) (I wonder why he has it) (there’s Batman’s dual personality) (Dracula’s many different guises) (almost like Dean can relate to these characters that are conflicted internally and manifest it externally…) (now we have Sam calling out the Batman parallel as the bullshit it is and presenting us with Wonder Woman instead) (self-assured, strong, brave, loving and open minded) (I cannot wait to meet Dean Winchester in S13)

6. Mummy Dearest

The mummy rises out of its sarcophagus and kills a security guard. The brothers discover dried ice on the scene and the fact that the sarcophagus is from a prop house in Philly. Sam calls the whole thing stupid and Dean remembers he’s late for his date with Jamie.

Now, let me address the mummy here, because it does stick out like a sore thumb among these monsters. More to the point, Dean even brings it up in dialogue when he later on has been captured by the Shifter and asks him: “Or even if you think you are Dracula - what the hell’s up with the mummy?” A question that’s never answered, but that’s in dialogue for a reason. Here’s my take on that reason:

The mummy is a tormented being that has been preserved after death and risen again, but is falling apart, is a husk of a body inside rotting bandages and is on a quest to make itself whole again, running the risk of never being able to do so, of never finding what was left behind in death. The mummy is a direct opposite to Dean’s description of himself to Sam and his optimistic view of how he was brought back to life without any of his old scars, and, to me, the mummy is exposition of the feeling Dean is dragging around with him underneath it all. A feeling that will become clear to us as the season progresses because Dean remembers Hell and all the things done to him, and all the horrors he doled out in return.

Also, with regards to the mummy, the brothers are dealing with a very, very identity confused shapeshifter who is escaping into a make-believe world of horror rather than to deal with the horrors of his/her real life.

*slow eyebrow raise*

6. In the Alleyway

Jamie gets attacked by Dracula - who calls her Mina - and Dean intervenes, Dracula calling him Harker and almost biting him until Dean stops him by pulling off his ear, Dracula escaping on a vespa. Again, the visual of Dracula on that tiny little non-motorcycle is part of the theme of the narrative: feminine and masculine in an eternal mashup, the supposed weak vs the powerful character traits are all interchangeable and part of a whole.

7. Aftermath

This scene is epic. Let me set the stage: Sam goes to the old movie theatre to talk to Ed Brewer, who they think might be the shifter. Dean stays with Jamie at the pub, laying out the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth (as apposed to the guy lying to get into a girl’s pants) (and as apposed to the wink and the “I’m a maverick, ma’am” line that he opened with) (moral of that story line accepted)

Jamie: So this is what you do? You and your partner just tramp across the country, on your own dime, until you find some horrible nightmare to fight? Dean: Some people paint. Jamie: Wow. Dean: What? Jamie: That must suck. I mean, giving up your life for this terrible, I don’t know… responsibility. Dean: Last few years I started thinking that way and, yeah, it started weighing on me.

Dean: A little while ago I had this… let’s call it a near death experience. Very near. And when I came to, things were different. My life’s been different. I realise that I help people. Not just help them, though - I save them. I guess it’s awesome. It’s kind of like a gift. Like a mission. Kind of like a mission from God.

Here’s my reading of this exchange —>

Jamie paints a depressing picture of the brothers’ life and Dean tries to blow it off with likening that life to a hobby - the life is no big deal.

But then Jamie turns on the empathy and hits on a truth that opens Dean up, because he’s wanted to talk about it with someone, and he doesn’t know how to, or doesn’t feel he can, talk about it with Sam: Sam is grappling with being linked to Hell and Dean knows it might come to him having to kill him, how can he tell Sam that he feels raised up - not only from Hell, but out of his own bleak world view, out of his inability to have faith, linking into his difficulty to trust and hope, by the thought of being chosen by God?

This is why, at the start of the episode, Dean’s happy to be on a case: this is his purpose, this is why he was put back on Earth, this is why Heaven has his back - he does good deeds, he saves people. He feels he’s doing his part for the Greater Good.

If we want to look at character psychology and how to build a love story between two characters we don’t need to look much further than this, as Dean is a perfect mirror for the biggest internal obstacle Cas has to deal with for his individual evolution: believing an outside force can define who you are and assign your purpose, when you have to do that for yourself through faith in your own abilities, stemming entirely from a deep and real sense of self-worth.

But there’s even more to it than that, because the contents of the dialogue doesn’t just tie Dean’s sentiments to God and to being chosen by God; this episode and both of the exchanges I’ve typed out serve as exposition for Castiel:

When Dean talks of Castiel returning him without even the hint of old injuries it plants Cas’ core character trait of being a healer, first and foremost - he wants to help

Dean then softly reminisces of being brought back, how things are different, his life is different, the good he does feels validated by an external force that has nothing to do with him, but that is giving him back his belief in what he does being the right thing - this is faith sprouting in Dean and this ties directly to the love story and how Cas has come to push Dean forward on this path of self-examination, because it will inevitably lead to faith for Dean, just not faith in a higher power, but faith in himself and his value outside of what he can bring to the fight (remind you of anyone?) (there’s a reason these two characters’ core traits and core issues mirror each other) (because that’s what the two main characters do in a love story)

What is interesting to me is to think of the yin and the yang, the feminine and masculine, the thought that Dean is not being entirely honest with himself, that he is split in half between performing and non-performing, between his toxic masculinity and who he is deep down - his loving, honest, open minded, softer side - his feminine side. His inner yin and yang chasing after each other to become whole, to allow him to find balance, and how is this visualised?

After opening up, after being honest, after allowing this side - the side we’ve already had it hinted is tied to Castiel - to shine through, this happens:

To me, this kiss becomes a visual manifestation of the inner balance that should be at the end of Dean’s journey. Yin and Yang in symbiosis and understanding of one another.

But wait for it.

Because here comes Lucy and the reveal that she is also part of the shifter’s identity crisis. The shifter is suddenly split visually into feminine and masculine: the toxic masculinity of Dracula having chosen a softer shape to move among the mortals. The shape of an overlooked woman and the third bride of Dracula in those old movies the Shifter so loves. (remember the roots of Oktoberfest?) (wedding roots) (and there are brides all over this narrative) (funny isn’t it?)

Jamie: Oh, I am fine. Guy didn’t even touch me. And Dean, he just… flew right in and fought him off. Dean: Well, I didn’t actually fly, but I’m sure it seemed like that at the time. Jamie: It was really… really something.

I feel they’re really referring to someone else here. Someone who arrives through a fluttering of wings…

And, of course, the dialogue beautifully links Dean to Heaven again as well.

8. Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t Hansel Young

Here’s where all of these feminine/masculine, there is absolutely something more going on here, what exactly is the symbolism of this narrative and all of such questions really began to knot together in my head. I stared and stared and tried to work out why the fuck Dean would have been taken out of his suit and put in a Hansel getup. Okay, yeah, hilarious, but also… huh?? Wut? This is not a fairy tale narrative - it is classic horror. So what is up with the suspenders there, Agent Young?

Oh.

See, this is where the point of this episode comes into actual focus. As I’ve already mentioned, to me, this is the beginning of Dean’s true coming of age story.

Dean is a man, okay? Dean is a manly man’s man, we all know that, and yet, throughout this episode, he behaves borderline teenager-y - and yes, it’s heightened, I feel, for this episode as an underlining of his inner turmoil, because Dean needs to grow up. Emotionally. And he’s never had real reason to before, but now someone’s come onto the scene that in one fell swoop is stirring feelings that bring out and highlight deeply rooted fears and an unwillingness in Dean to change anything. Ever.

He’s stuck.

Here’s the thing.

Hansel and Gretel is the perfect allegory for going through puberty, for being forced out of the nest, forced to find your own way and face the enormous challenges that life has in store. It’s a tale of survival and triumph over adversity and even over death itself. The siblings face down the witch and they come out stronger for it. Rather than climbing into her oven (or fiery furnace *meaningful eye brow raise*) and giving up, Hansel uses a stick to outwit and overcome the threat: allowing the siblings (a girl and a boy representative of female/male) to move from childhood into adolescence. They are set on their journey to adulthood.

To me, that’s what Monster Movie is - Dean’s first step towards growing up, growing out of old ideas that have held him back since childhood, growing into the understanding that he is his own person and has every right to be. That he deserves to be and can be happy.

The whole entire point of Dean’s character journey is not for Dean to shed the performance and become another person, the entire point of Dean’s character journey is for him to reconcile the fact that it’s possible to be a soft, dorky, nerdy, loving, brutally kickass man with dirt under his fingernails who also loves to cook and take care of everyone.

This is also the point of the show: to take the traditional family- and gender values, based as they are on Christian values, and deconstruct them, leaving the beautiful for all to see and pick-pick-picking at the hypocritical or detrimental. Society thrives on diversity. That’s a core value of the show itself.

(And I have to add this now after seeing 13x01 because I fucking pumped my fist in the air: “There is no weird. Everyone’s normal in their own way.” ANDREW DABB!)

9. Shifter

I’m combining two scenes here.

a) The shifter tells Jamie to get into a dress he’s chosen for her and when she refuses he loses his temper —> toxic masculinity oppressing freethinking femininity. Jamie has no choice but to comply.

b) The shifter is sorry that he scared her. He doesn’t want to scare her - everyone else, but not her. He tells Jamie his damaged backstory and the reason why he took to “the great monsters”, seeing how it would be better to be feared than beaten down. Jamie calls him out on his performance: he emulates the monsters, but it’s all a facade. She can see he’s lonely and she uses the word as a weapon. Jamie hears a noise and calls out for Dean.

10. Sam

Sam gets Dean out of his bonds and then teases him about the Hansel getup, which is also significant to me, because Dean isn’t at the point where he can free himself, not yet (hence the need for Sam to get him out of there) and Sam would be unable to understand Dean’s inner struggles (hence the teasing) because Dean isn’t ready to be open about any of it, not even with himself yet. He’s just begun this part of his character journey.

Sam also takes the lead in kicking the door down, which is, again, interesting. Dean doesn’t even try to take the lead in this scene, he even gestures for Sam to go ahead and kick the door down. Dean in a child costume taking the backseat…

11. Dracula and Mina

Dracula knocks Sam out - fitting since this actually isn’t Sam’s fight. (not in the symbolic sense anyway) Dean attacks Dracula and they trade blows, Dean giving the wonderful line of “About now you shut the hell up” because, well, that’s endgame, isn’t it? For his toxic masculinity to stop dictating to him how he should behave and who he should be.

Dracula overpowers Dean —> and gets shot in the chest by Jamie. (with silver) (which in classic lore is tied to the purity of Heaven…)

Dracula: No, Mina, do not weep. Perhaps this is how the movie should end.

And the toxic masculinity is defeated by the strong, powerful, self-assured, brave femininity. Because Jamie is representative of yin/yang in balance.

12. The End of the Beginning

Gratitude and kissing between Jamie and Dean. Jamie thanks the brothers for saving her life. Dean is satisfied. And even says “A happy ending. With a happy ending, no less”, which is intriguing on so many levels. They actually put the phrase “happy ending” in the dialogue. Twice.

Final note: if Dean was turning life into a movie, it’d be this one:

Porky’s 2 — The Angel Beach High School Drama Club is producing a Shakespeare Festival in which the group from the first film is participating. Unfortunately, a religious leader named Bubba Flavel wants to halt the production because he and his group, “The Righteous Flock,” maintain that Shakespeare is indecent and profane. The gang seeks out the help of Seward County Commissioner Gebhardt, who initially promises that he will pull some strings to keep the Shakespeare Festival running. However, the gang quickly learns that Gebhardt only agreed in order to secure a date with seventeen-year-old Wendy. When Wendy refuses him, he reneges on his promise. The local Ku Klux Klan chapter joins the movement to shut down the Shakespeare Festival when the Klan learns that John Henry, a Seminole student, will play Romeo opposite a white Juliet played by Wendy. Flavel welcomes the Klan’s support of his movement. The Angel Beach gang plot their revenge against Flavel, Commissioner Gebhardt, the rest of the county commissioners, and the Klan.

Yeah, that’s right, that’s the movie he’d want to live in forever.

The Angel Beach High School Drama Club.

Dean would want to be stuck in a movie about teenagers. A movie about teenagers who love Shakespeare and fight together against the oppression of The Man. And sexism. And racism.

This movie is referenced in a narrative dealing with Dean’s need to move out of adolescence and into adulthood.

Also, angels are fucking everywhere in this episode.

*dying just a little*

#spn meta #spn headcanon #monster movie #spn 4x05 #deconstruction #dean is bi #dean winchester #cas #destiel #long ass mother fucker #masculine/feminine #the greatest love story ever told

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lonelylionisland-blog · 6 years

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THICK BEATS FOR GOOD GIRLS (presented by CHECKPOINT THEATRE)

This show is playing in Singapore from 5th - 22nd April 2018 at The Drama Centre Black Box.

This review has spoilers ahead. Read at your discretion.

THICK BEATS FOR GOOD GIRLS is a two-woman show written and performed by Jessica Bellamy and Pooja Nansi, interweaving autobiographical stories about the artists’ childhoods and formative years, and the role Hip Hop has played in their lives.

The show is anchored with dictionary definitions of key Hip Hop terms that reach a five-act structure (this lion thinks? forgets?) but the show itself is two hours without intermission and punctuated by three Q&A sections where the house lights are turned on the audience. The effect of the Q&A segments recalls the classic album The Miseducation of Miss Lauryn Hill with its tracks that featured classroom discussions about autonomy, independence, relationships, respect (a note here that shall be returned to later).

First, Bellamy and Nansi must be applauded on their stamina. There is literally a scene scored to DMX’s X Gon Give It To Ya, where Nansi tells of her work-out regime and determination (while running the entire time) to be strong, successful, winning at life, a salient point in a genre that has sometimes objectified woman with so much unmasked vitriol. The show’s scope is also extremely wide and quite successful in selling the idea of alternative histories of Hip Hop through personal narrative.

However, the show is so ambitious that it sometimes lacks clarity and in some parts seems to deliberately obfuscate the intentions of the performers, hiding them behinds walls of rhetorical question after rhetorical question until this lion doesn’t know where the bass is at.

The 3 Q&A sections are one such example of a structure that ironically weakens the show. They are not ‘real’. They serve to imply audience participation, but the questions are leading and at the expense of the audience, and the magic sense of dwelling and pause for reflection that is in the Lauryn Hill album it references is not present.

(For explanation: The first Q&A asks the audience to identify a ‘thicc’ beat from a not ‘thicc’ beat. The second feels like a school presentation of P. Diddy (or Love apparently). The third actually asks for any alternative opinions on what has been presented. One wonders what the two would do if actually given one.)

It is impossible not to analyse the approaches of each writer-performer alongside the other in a show like this. The synergy of performance is inpeccable. But it is clear from the start that Nansi’s viewpoint is more anxious; she spends an entire segment justifying her love for Hip Hop amidst its misogyny (and not particularly convincingly). Bellamy, on the other hand, approaches the sexual nature of Hip Hop unapologetically as liberating for the young Jewish girls of her youth.

The reason Bellamy is more effective than Nansi is very much to do with the difference in their attitude towards territory and women in particular. In one segment where she tells of her sojourn to Ireland, Bellamy characterises herself as SBB (standing for Slut Bag Bellamy) and in another, Australia’s Champion Masturbator. Bellamy’s humour and acceptance of different types of women comes from a healthy love and regard for herself. In another segment about youth, she describes how My Neck My Back by Khia allows her friend (mimed by Nansi) to let loose and stare down a ‘good’ Jewish boy she likes over the lyrics no good girl should dance to (“My neck, my back. Lick my pussy and my crack”). Bellamy speaks of the female gaze on the female body and tells us that in a world so afraid of a woman’s sexual autonomy, she chooses (and encourages the audience) to take a position of support and true love.

Nansi on the other hand is not so generous. There will be nostalgia for some in the details. Getting drunk on home-brought booze or cheap beer in an Ang Mo Kio kopitiam, meeting at the River Valley 7-11 just before cover charge goes up to full price, the annoying exclusivity of a typical Zouk guestlist hence the change of plans to Dbl O. So far so good. Except she insists these spaces are ‘brown’ spaces. While she describes the magic of entering the club for the first time and being let in on a secret, she makes clear jabs at the archetype Chinese girl who find herself in the very same position for the first-time, mouthing along to Kanye and Nelly with ‘Nigga’ and ‘bitch’.

Nansi claims the right to the usage of Hip Hop’s more aggressive swagger over others is because of her immigrant roots and minority status. But these statements are laid flat and unsubstantiated. It’s also worth noting that Nansi spent most of her life in Singapore and is in many ways, a product of the Singapore school system she alludes to. Most Singaporeans trace their roots to only the past hundred years or less. Immigrant or otherwise, Singapore, and Marine Parade in particular (this being her ‘hood in the show) are hardly ghetto. In a country so inter-ethnic and inter-religious, what does minority mean? It appears to be more of a grappling. Territorialising is natural in a country this concerntrated. But the pressure alone is not enough substance to bolster her frustration. For this reason, unfortunately, Nansi appears petulant through a fair amount of the show, and it is with relief that we are given Bellamy’s humour in the inbetween spaces.

This may however be entirely intentional. Good cop, bad cop. Salt N Pepa. But the salty writing from Bellamy is without a doubt, tastier. What Nansi really means perhaps, what she mistakes for ‘Chineseness’ (which is the majority racial group in Singapore) in her monologues is class and body image. She claims that no one in her secondary school (Paya Lebar Methodist Girl’s) would be caught dead in clubs like Gotham Penthouse but we have to take her word for it. Plenty of Singapore Chinese people have also been in the spaces she describes (not everyone is crazy or to-do enough to spot the cover to go to Zouk) but acknowledging this would be problematic to the harsh narrative she presents. The show ends with her agony over the sort of women who appear in face whitening commercials and condo advertisements and doesn’t beg as much as insist they leave her spaces alone; a fair request but a rather suspicious (vicious even?) last word to conclude with. One is reminded of an alternate Regina George in Mean Girls, as Nansi literally builds a world in this show for herself in which select people are invited, and one wonders will there ever be peace in girl world?

It’s particularly frustrating as Nansi also comes forward with the line (this lion is paraphrasing): “The world is a cesspit... Let us lift up the prayers, and what is [wrong] re-write.” One can intellectually understand caginess as a coping mechanism or an approach to dealing with minority status, but it’s not the only one available as Bellamy exhibits. Emotively, one is turned off by this clique-making mentality. The Us vs. Them. It is disturbing (and brave) to see both parts present but one wishes this was articulated better. It is with great irony then that words like:

‘feminism’,

‘thickness’,

‘swagger’,

‘good’,

are Oxford-dictionarily-defined in key points of the show, but not ‘girl’ (gender is briefly explored in a scene in a religious school, but not girlhood as opposed to boyhood).

This lion left wondering: What’s the difference between a girl and a woman? If this show is “a coming-of-age story” do the characters, endearing as they may be running joyously around screaming ‘Lick it, lick it, lick it good’, ever mature? This is not to say one can’t be free and/or slutty. But even Madonna and Tina Turner (who Nansi references) made their freedom and sexuality clear as adults in full control of their destinies.

Also, while press material will provoke the public with its promise that this show is “the coming-of-age anthem that would never make it to radio”, many of the songs selected have had airplay on national radio (albeit in edited form with DJs suggesting how naughty the original lyrics are which often stirs the curious and the city is very curious!). Perhaps the only content that genuinely wouldn’t make it to radio are the stories of how each discovered – as girls – that their bodies are capable of sexual pleasure and the importance (as ladies) of insisting on gratification.

These stories (and the show is chockfull of them) are deeply moving and empowering.

Bellamy remarks darkly that the daily prayer for Jewish boys includes the invocation: Thank you G-d for not making me a woman, and for Jewish girls: Thank you G-d for making me as you will.

Nansi delights us with her first-time masturbating during a bout of chicken pox.

Bellamy paints a picture of quaint suburban-life beset by secret and well-used erotica featuring Paul Newman, a mustang and oranges. One hopes Newman’s Own Balsamic Vinigerette was not her choice of lubricant, not that one has had the experience thereof.

The show is extremely likeable.

This lion does not yet have a rating system.

#thick beats for good girls #checkpoint theatre

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