#karen marks

[mywifeleftme]

279: V/A // Sky Girl

Sky Girl Various Artists 2013/2016 (reissue), Not on label/Efficient Space (Bandcamp)

Funny little compilation here, assembled from various ‘60s to ‘90s private and art presses by two French DJs. Of course, clearance issues come for us all—the original independently-released 2013 CD version had a rather different track list than this 2016 vinyl reissue on the Australian Efficient Space label. Still, in either formulation Sky Girl has a wonderful melancholy sweetness, mapping an emotional Venn diagram between C86 indie, Vashti Bunyan, Arthur Russell, bedroom R&B, gawky synth pop, and beyond. Being largely* from the private press realm, the originals of these recordings are nearly all painfully pricey: Warfield Spillers’ “Daddy’s Little Girl” single crosses the soul ballad with Beat Happening lo-fi and will cost you $800; an original of the Rising Storm LP that contains “Frozen Laughter,” an impossibly delicate psychedelic idyll, will run you a cool six grand or so. Unlike a lot of comps that focus on this market, this isn’t really weirdo stuff. These people are for the most part fairly talented and seemingly sane people who are trying their best to make good music that will make the listener feel something. Some of them probably could’ve gotten a bite at the record industry apple with a little more luck, but a lot of the songs the compilers have selected have a private vibe that seems endemic to their nature, like overhearing something intended for a lover or a diary. Collectors pay a premium for that sense, like some Japanese novel about lovers who never meet but distantly pine in a waft of mutual déjà vu (this I guess is the plot of Le double vie de Véronique also, and “Ana Ng”).

I would’ve loved if the compilation’s liners had offered more of the stories of these recordings, though it’s admittedly fun to Do My Own Research sometimes. (And the reissue cover is lamentably drab.) The 2016 version of the comp is readily available on streaming platforms for those who wish to sample—I especially recommend prolific indie cassette artist Linda Smith’s “I So Liked Spring,” Australian minimal wave obscurity Karen Marks’ “Cold Café,” and the robotic puberty-angst groover “Feeling Sheepish” by Some of My Best Friends Are Canadians. But Sky Girl really is more than the sum of its parts, as any good mixtape should be.

279/365

* The CD version did open with a track by the Haruomi Hosono-affiliated duo Testpattern that was well-distributed, in Japan at least.

[dougwallen]

Karen Marks feature for The Big Issue Australia

[dogboymutual]

my favorite implication from npmd's pro shot is that the chasitys are both respectful of pronouns and also deeply homophobic. like karen is the one that accuses ziggy, using their pronouns effortlessly, and then later grace says that ruth is in hell for being bisexual. it's so funny. oh you're trans? oh cool! please tell me your pronouns and chosen name so i can condemn you to hell properly :)

[rockrosethistle]

I feel like this fandom keeps misinterpreting the Chasitys. Specifically Mark and Karen.

Because every fic I read about them, Mark is this oppressive force on the girls, and Karen keeps her mouth shut and nods along. And while I understand how that can set up some really interesting plots, I think it overlooks how they're really a lot more like The Addams Family.

They just have this weird shared interest, and they're all dressed in their little pastels, and the town doesn't understand them but that's okay because they understand eachother. That is just so more entertaining than 'religious man is judgey.'

Also, in the short time we get with them, Mark Chasity is completely pleasant and positive! He's actually the more easygoing of the two!

And they both obviously care a lot about their daughter, at least enough to notice a change in her behaviour.

Guys. Can we just let these weirdos love eachother. It's so important to me

[zestysharkwolf]

I really like making these

[adankrivervalleynearyou]

[paranormaltheatrekid]

If your ever having a bad day just remember that this image of the chasitys exists.

[lady-loveluck]

THE CHASITYS!

[teranobriss]

I NEED to know more about these two. You can't look me in the eye and tell me there isn't something deeply fascinating buried somewhere in their history; everyone in this tiny town has something mysterious about them.

What was Hatchetfield like when they were younger? What crazy event brought them together? What silly antics did these two superfluously Christian individuals get up to?? We may never know.

[olessan]

The Coral Island devs have a mission and they're sticking to it

[hatchetfield-scarecrow]

I know it’s funny to joke about Grace’s chastity being what she sacrifices because haha sex with ghost, but it’s also so insanely fucked up and tragic in a way I don’t think we’re talking about enough… like THAT’S truly what she cherishes most, the idea of purity and superiority she feels she gets from ignoring her own wants and desires. Not even her parents, who she is shown to have a loving relationship with despite the ways they’re messing her up, are more important to her than her chastity, and I think that’s sooooo messed up in so many ways… the damaging views of life you gave to your child are now more important to her than you are.

[expelliarmus]

[blu193]

My attempt at a front-facing character reference sheet of some of the SMG4 characters for reference.

[thelifeofchuckmovie]

When it comes to ending the world, Stephen King is a repeat offender. He has brought life as we know it to a brutal conclusion several times over the decades, usually highlighting the cruelty and desperation that erupts among the last to go. But his 2020 story “The Life of Chuck” uses doomsday to evoke some unlikely sentiments: Wistfulness. Gratitude. Even joy.

The idea of creating an apocalyptic version of It’s a Wonderful Life is what led filmmaker Mike Flanagan to call dibs on the rights to the novella more than four years ago. The breakdown of society, extinction-level natural disasters, and the disintegration of reality itself is explored through the lens of one relatively meek and mild accountant, played by Tom Hiddleston, whose memories and choices are mysteriously connected to these tribulations. Retirement posters congratulating him on “39 great years” pop up everywhere. But who is this guy? What job does he do (or did he used to do)? And why does it matter so much to the fate of the world? This apparent nobody named Chuck Krantz has lived larger than anyone thought possible.

Having explored King country before in 2017’s Gerald’s Game and 2019’s The Shining sequel Doctor Sleep, Flanagan got involved after reading an early copy of “Chuck” before it was published in the collection If It Bleeds. The Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher creator produced the film independently, believing it might be too offbeat for risk-averse studios to greenlight. He even secured a waiver from the striking Hollywood guilds last year to move forward with the shoot while the rest of the industry was stuck in the work stoppage. Now he and Hiddleston are ready to reveal the finished version of The Life of Chuck as it heads to the upcoming Toronto International Film Festival, where it will screen for potential distributors.

Among the skeptics about this adaptation was King himself, according to Flanagan. “His initial responses to me were a little like, ‘Oh, okay. Yeah. If you think that’s a movie…,’” he says. “He did say several times that he thought it would be a challenge to get it supported through traditional means.”

King has now seen the finished movie and no longer has doubts. He described it to Vanity Fair as “a happiness machine.”

“Well, he’s written something very tender and very wise,” Hiddleston says. “I think there is a great wisdom in the soul of the story, which is that it takes courage to hold on to what is good in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.”

Flanagan hopes others see it that way too, although the overpowering dread that begins the story may be more immediately relatable. “I’ve heard it said that every generation feels a little like the world is ending at some point, [but] I still feel like it’s different for us,” the 46-year-old filmmaker says with a mordant laugh. “Institutions we took for granted as propping up our society are failing left and right. Our politics have degraded spectacularly. The sense that it’s breaking down, that the world is moving on, has been increasingly palpable. When I talk to my parents or members of older generations who have been through their own turbulent times, the thing that strikes me is that they’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is really bad.’”

But…it’s not entirely bad. And that’s the underlying message of The Life of Chuck as its various mysteries play out. “There’s no sense of terror in the way that King drew it,” Flanagan says. “Even as the world feels as though it’s ending, people become introspective, they reach into their past for loves that have left their lives for one reason or another. Strangers engage in open and fearless communication.”

It’s an indie-film variation on the big-budget cataclysm story. “A disaster movie has people meeting the end while running from tidal waves, and this story has people sitting quietly holding hands looking at the stars,” Flanagan says.

The key to it all is Chuck himself, although he doesn’t turn up onscreen until the second segment of the three-act story, which plays out in reverse chronological order.

The beginning is actually the end, as the whole world circles the drain. Caught in this spiral is Chiwetel Ejiofor (12 Years a Slave), a school teacher trying to apply logic to the planet’s troubles; Karen Gillan (Guardians of the Galaxy) is his ex, a hospital worker determined to save everyone she can; Matthew Lillard (Scream) is a construction worker neighbor who finds zen amid the chaos; and Carl Lumbly (Alias), plays a funeral director who has dedicated his life to easing people through death.

The end of the movie is actually the beginning, showing young Chuck (Benjamin Pajak) when he was a boy being raised by his grandparents (Mia Sara of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Mark Hamill). The insight of these two—coupled with the otherworldly revelations he finds in an eerie room tucked into the peak of their Victorian home—help him learn to seek out bright spots when life is marred by sorrow and darkness.

In elementary school, young Chuck discovers some important things about himself thanks to guidance from a brusque dance instructor (Samantha Sloyan), and a kindhearted English teacher, played by Kate Siegel, who gives the boy (not to mention the audience) some important information that serves as a code breaker for the story's more cosmic puzzles.

As for the middle of the film: It’s a dance number. That’s when Hiddleston steps in.

Compounding the peculiarity of The Life of Chuck is the question: Why is this song and dance sequence so important? The answer is for the movie to reveal, but it matters a lot. “The life of every human being is a constellation, as expressed in this film,” Hiddleston says. “There are certain moments which will burn most brightly as individual stars. Sometimes it feels like the world is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s full of pain and suffering, and it is—but there are moments of deep joy and deep connection.”

Hiddleston shows the audience this single moment in the life of a buttoned-up fellow who somehow controls the destiny of the world. It’s not necessarily the most important day in his life, but it’s a memorable one involving a street drummer (Taylor Gordon), a lovely stranger (played by Annalise Basso), and a fateful decision to cast aside caution and cut a rug. “It’s a reminder to do whatever it is that expresses whatever gives you that feeling of being alive,” Hiddleston says. “Whether it’s music or dancing or math or writing or creativity—do it. Do it now. Those moments are what you’ll remember.”

Flanagan considered casting a relative unknown as Chuck to “give the audience the experience of ‘Who the hell is this person?’” as the peculiar retirement signs begin to appear in the midst of the apocalypse. But he felt the promise of the Loki star would build more curiosity as the world falls apart. “You grow an enormous amount of anticipation to finally spend time with an actor like Tom, who can be a literal god in one story, and then an everyman in another,” Flanagan says.

A TikTok video of Hiddleston getting his groove on sealed the deal. “He had a completely unfiltered joy on his face,” Flanagan says. “He was a good dancer, but that wasn’t what struck me. I wasn’t amazed by the technique so much as the degree of happiness that was radiating off of him. The look on his face made me smile the same way I smiled reading that particular portion of the book.”

The resulting scene was created in a month-long collaboration between Flanagan, Hiddleston, Basso, choreographer Mandy Moore (So You Think You Can Dance, and La La Land), and Gordon, a real-life percussionist who performs under the name the Pocket Queen. “Taylor was there for all of the dance choreography. She wrote that piece of music for that performance. They built it together,” Flanagan says.

Hiddleston rattles off the lists of influences: “I had to learn in six weeks the full regime of any dance training. We did jazz, swing, salsa, cha-cha, the Charleston, bossa nova, polka, quickstep, samba. We were trying to tip our hat to anything that might have influenced Chuck. It might’ve had a bit of Gene Kelly or Fred and Ginger. Certainly moonwalking—Stephen King is very specific about the moonwalk.”

Precision was not the goal, exuberance was what they sought. “We need to always bear in mind that this man is an accountant. We needed this to be an earnest, escalating explosion of joy, and a remembrance of who he was,” Flanagan says. “It’s a chance to step back into the skin of his younger self, not caring that his feet are going to kill him the next day, not caring that he’s going to wake up with a horribly stiff neck.”

A surprising thing happened while shooting the scene over the course of several sweltering afternoons in the deep South. “I burned holes in my shoes,” Hiddleston says. “I was dancing out on the asphalt in Alabama, and by the time we’d finished, you could see my socks through the soles.”

The sequence begins awkwardly: Chuck is self-conscious as he first hears the busker’s rhythm while walking back from a banking conference. That feeling quickly gets shaken off. “Tom was very committed,” Flanagan says. “He was like, ‘If I look silly, that’s fine. As long as I look happy.’”

Flanagan remembers being in a bad place when he first discovered “The Life of Chuck.” Then again, everybody was.

His copy of the manuscript arrived in March 2020. “That was just as the world shut down for COVID,” he says. “We had been a week away from starting principal photography on Midnight Mass in Vancouver and had fled across the border before it closed to make it back to the States. We were hunkered down in our homes and had no idea if this was going to last for two weeks or if this was going to last forever.”

With everything halted as the lockdown set in, Flanagan had plenty of time to do nothing but read. The new King book seemed like the perfect escape. Except…

“The first third of ‘The Life of Chuck’ just rattled me,” he recalls. “There’s no way he wrote this before the world ground to this bizarre halt—but he did. And the feeling of anxiety, and uncertainty, and that everything was falling apart came roaring out at me. I wasn’t sure I could finish it. It just felt too close to the anxiety I was feeling.” But he kept turning the pages. “By the end of it, I was in tears, and incredibly uplifted, and convinced I’d read maybe the best thing that he’d written in a decade. I just was floored by the thing,” Flanagan says. “So I fired off an email to him right away saying how much I loved the story, how incredible I thought it was, how meaningful, and important, and how it had really tattooed itself on my heart and said, ‘It’s the movie I want to make so that it’ll exist in the world for my kids.’”

King’s response: Not so fast. Flanagan and his producing partner, Trevor Macy, had at that point secured the rights to King’s fantasy saga The Dark Tower through their company, Intrepid Pictures. The eight-book series is threaded throughout King’s other works, and adapting it was a massive undertaking that Flanagan is still working to make happen. Other filmmakers had either abandoned the project, were canceled midway through, or bombed miserably. The author didn’t want him to be distracted. “He doesn’t like to give the same filmmaker more than one thing, because it typically means one thing is not advancing at all,” Flanagan says. “He said, ‘Well, let’s focus on The Tower and I’ll try to keep this one available for you for later.’”

The quest to The Dark Tower remains a priority for Flanagan, but a number of disruptions to that epic undertaking led him to reapproach King last year about Chuck. Intrepid’s deal with Netflix, where they had created Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, and other shows, had come to a close, and Intrepid signed a new development agreement with Amazon. That meant starting over on The Dark Tower. Meanwhile, the threat of a double-barreled strike by writers and actors was on the horizon, stalling nearly every major new project. The industry plunged into another production-halting lockdown, this time over contract impasses rather than a virus.

Since The Dark Tower was suddenly further off on the horizon, Flanagan saw a chance to make The Life of Chuck happen in the short term. “It’s so rare that I get to approach any project that just has not an ounce of cynicism to it. I just really believed in this thing,” he says. “But it was also clear that we would have an incredibly uphill battle bringing the story to any major studio. They would try to make it as familiar as possible, instead of leaning into what makes it so different.”

King gave Flanagan his blessing to proceed. “I was off like a shot,” the filmmaker says. “I think I turned in the draft to him before he got around to sending the formal agreement.”

For everyone involved, The Life of Chuck became a bright spot in an otherwise dismal time, which matches the theme of the film. “There is a profound optimism in this story,” Hiddleston says. “As the world is spinning off its axis, there are moments of magic.”