#red bull redux

[cutielando]

world champion ~ max verstappen

Summary: You've been by Max's side since his early days in the business, and now he finally achieves his dream with you by his side.

Words: 1.0k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Ever since he started in Formula 1, the biggest dream Max had was becoming a World Champion. Signing with Red Bull was the first step towards making his dream come true.

Having you by his side was the second thing he needed.

His family couldn't come at every single race that he had, having their own lives and work prevented them from being able to fly out to the numerous countries that he found himself in every week.

But you had a very flexible job, you had your own little business and could essentially work from your laptop from anywhere you were, which was why you had never missed a race since Max started in F1.

He always joked with Christian in calling you his lucky charm.

The season had been going well for him, he'd won numerous races and was now tied with Charles Leclerc in the Championship standings. But you knew he could do it, you could feel the win coming.

"I'm going crazy" he told you the night before the race that would essentially decide who the champion is.

The famous Yas Marina circuit in Abu Dhabi.

"Stop stressing, you're going to give yourself wrinkles if you stress so much" you called out from the hotel bathroom where you were doing your skincare routine before bed.

"How can I not be stressed? My career is essentially on the line. Everything relies on what happens tomorrow, I can't let everyone down and not win" he said, his voice quiet and somber.

You finished doing your skincare routine and exited the bathroom, joining him on the king sized bed and wrapping your arms around him.

He buried his face in your chest and held onto you tightly, your arms being the only comfort for his nerves before every single race.

"Nobody is going to hate you or judge you if you don't win. Everybody is going to be proud of you for being able to be at the top for the entire season. I'm proud of you, Max, and I'll be proud of you regardless if you finish in first or last place. Don't beat yourself up if things don't go your way tomorrow, there is always next year and we're all going to be there for you, no matter what" you explained, kissing the top of his head as a confirmation that you were there and will always be by his side, no matter the results.

"You really mean that?" his voice was timid, but you could feel his muscles starting to relax under your touch.

"Of course I do. You don't have to put this kind of pressure on yourself. You're not doing this for the fans or for your family or for me, you're only doing this for yourself. Just go out there and drive your best and let the results come to you if it's meant to be"

He nodded and squeezed you tighter. 

"I love you, so damn much" he mumbled, kissing your clothes chest and settling back down against you.

"I love you too, baby" you whispered and started running your hand up and down his back, knowing it was one of his favorite things.

As minutes went by, his breath started to slow down, indicating that he had fallen asleep. You smiled and placed a final kiss on his forehead before getting comfortable to go to sleep yourself, excited for what tomorrow would bring. 

♡♡♡♡♡

The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage was exhilarating. For Christian and all the engineers, Max was already the World Champion.

Nothing could ruin their mood that morning, and the same could be said about you.

"How are you feeling?" you asked your boyfriend as he started getting ready to go in the car.

"Still nervous, but not as much as before. What happens, happens. I'll give it my best and we'll see" he said and gave you a sincere smile, reassuring you that he was okay.

"Good luck, baby. I love you, please be safe" you said and leaned up to kiss his lips before he'd have to put on his balaclava and helmet.

"I will. I love you too" 

He departed after that, going over last-minute strategies with his engineers and making sure the car was ready for battle.

Once the mechanics rolled him out of the garage and onto the track, you took a seat next to his race engineer, who immediately gave you a pair of headphones.

"How's our boy?" he asked you, a warm smile on his face.

You and Gianpiero had a close relationship ever since he started working with Max, frequently exchanging thoughts and opinions before and after every race.

Sure, you didn't have the whole technical knowledge perfected yet, but you knew your way around the sport and strategies and everything after being with Max for so many years.

"He's nervous, but I know he's going to give it his all. I told him to drive his best and see what happens. Didn't feel like putting more pressure on him than necessary" you explained, earning a nod from the engineer.

"He'll win, I can feel it"

♡♡♡♡♡

And right he was.

Seeing him cross that finish line and checkered flag long before anyone else was like a breath of fresh air. You and Gianpiero jumped up from your seats and hugged each other, your cheeks already full of the tears that were flowing down.

You took your headphones off and make your way out of the garage, impatiently waiting for Max to pull up and get out of the car.

Once you saw his car approaching, you started jumping up and down, feeling happier than you had ever been.

"You did it!!" you screamed once Max got out of the car and enveloped you in his arms.

You didn't even care that he was sweaty and tired, all you could focus on was the fact that he had finally achieved his childhood dream.

"I did it" he sobbed into your shoulder, his arms holding you tightly against his body.

As you stood embraced in the middle of the paddock in your own little bubble, you knew that all of the sleepless nights, the hundred hours of training, the dozens races he's done, his entire hard work has finally paid off.

He was World Champion.

But more importantly, he was your champion. 

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[danthropologie]

Lisa Marie Basile, Andalucía

[arturleclerc]

The Resurrection of Daniel Ricciardo | The Honey Badger is Back!

[alasarys]

Precise Advice with Daniel Ricciardo

[onboardsorasora]

Both Max and Danny are ageing backwards at Red Bull....is happiness the cause?

[uishaper]

Hidden meaning behind the red bull logo

[rickybaby]

can i just say something? and i wanna preface by saying fuck both horner and helmut, they can roth in hell together

BUT it drives me insane when i read stuff "if horner goes daniel is fucked cause he was his pick and helmut doesnt like him"

cause it's not true? he was both helmut and horner choice to put him in the at after silverstone and marko is fickle as fuck, one good performance and he'll sing his praises again

idk, i truly think at the end of the day it's only up to daniel, if he performs well he'll get the seat regardless if horner or helmut are gone

Honestly would much rather for Horner and Helmut to be thrown out of the team. Get my zaddy Jonathan Wheatley in.

This man spells competency. I just know he’s going to run that team better than a well-oiled machine. And if Daniel manages to get his shit together and make a successful bid for that seat, at least when the time comes around, no one will blame ‘favouritism’ if he gets the seat …

[writtenjewels]

Biker, redux

[long story short: I like this AU but was having severe writer's block on how to continue it, so I'm basically rewriting it from the beginning]

The sidewalk was mostly deserted, and any pedestrians who drew close gave a respectful distance. A few members of the gang chuckled and revved their engines; the civilians quickened their pace. Salim took in another hit on his cigarette and watched as the people disappeared down the street. He didn't personally find any entertainment from intimidating people, but Dar felt it was important every now and then.

Movement from across the street caught Salim's attention. He glanced up and saw that the doors to the community center were opening. He was familiar with the place—Zain sometimes went there after school. It was far too late in the evening for any of those activities, though. As he watched, a group of adults filed out of the building. It was hard to judge from this distance, but they all appeared different ages. Most of them split off to go to their cars, one lingering behind to lock up. Another figure was making their way to the crosswalk.

That path would bring the person close to Salim's gang. He watched with growing anticipation as the stranger crossed the street. Dar called out and revved his engine; the others followed suit, jeering at the stranger. The stranger casually showed them the middle finger before walking on. Salim chuckled to himself.

[Hey!] Dar shouted. He dismounted from his bike. [Come back here and learn some respect!]

[Dar, wait,] Salim interrupted, swiftly moving to stand in front of his leader. [Let me take care of this.] Dar pursed his lips and glanced between Salim and the retreating figure. After a moment Dar nodded his approval.

[Go ahead, lieutenant.]

Salim let out a breath and hurried after the stranger. The person had just walked into a nearby convenience store. Salim followed and immediately moved down an aisle so the civilian wouldn't notice him. Salim sneaked glances to better judge who he was dealing with. The person had their back to him: all he could see was a black T-shirt, worn jeans, and a baseball cap covering dark hair. They were built more slender than him, their exposed arms muscular. The person opened the fridge and took out a drink.

“A Red Bull at this time of night?” Salim didn't mean to speak the words out loud. The person turned at his voice, revealing their face to him. They turned out to be a man, fair-skinned and clean-shaven. There was a white snake printed on the front of his shirt. Salim couldn't help taking note of the slope of the other man's nose, the shape of his thin lips, the cut of his jawline.

“Yep,” the stranger responded, emphasizing the “p” with a pop of his lips. His features were somewhat shadowed by the brim of his cap, but Salim could still see those dark eyes take in Salim's appearance. Salim was dressed to match the rest of his gang: dark pants, leather jacket over a plain black shirt. Chains were looped to his belt and tonight he had put in his stud earrings. Yet the look didn't seem to faze the other man.

“It's an interesting choice,” Salim commented. The man shrugged and moved to another aisle. He grabbed some beef jerky and a bag of chips. “Your dedication to health is inspiring,” Salim noted wryly. The man turned to look at him again.

“You must be the kettle,” he remarked. Salim raised an eyebrow at the words. “I can smell the cigarette smoke on ya from here,” the man continued. Salim took note of the Southern drawl in the man's accent.

“You make a good point,” Salim conceded. “I apologize; I was only making conversation.”

“And here I thought you came in to measure your dick like your friends outside,” the man drawled. He moved toward the counter with Salim following. “Unless you're here to rough me up for flickin' those guys off.”

“That's what they think I'm doing,” Salim agreed. “I actually came in because I was curious what sort of person would give a biker gang the middle finger.”

“Not all of 'em,” the other disagreed, turning his attention back to Salim briefly. “Just that one asshole.”

“Ah, but you see, that's the problem: 'that one asshole' is the leader.”

“Figures.” The man paid for his items and ripped open the bag of beef jerky. “You want some?” he offered. Salim eyed the bag skeptically.

“It doesn't say that it's halal.”

“I got not idea what that means.”

“ 'Permitted,',” Salim interpreted. The stranger glanced at the jerky for a moment before shrugging and popping a piece in his mouth. “My name is Salim,” Salim introduced. He had to wait for the other to chew and swallow.

“Jason.”

“Do you like snakes, Jason?” Jason looked confused and Salim pointed meaningfully to his shirt. Jason's expression turned incredulous.

“What kind of biker gang member doesn't know Whitesnake?”

“Oh, so it's another gang?”

“It's a band,” Jason corrected, rolling his eyes. “Tell me you at least know Van Halen.” When Salim didn't answer, Jason shook his head in disappointment. “Bon Jovi? Queen? For fuck's sake, do you live under a rock?!” Salim tried not to laugh.

“I'm sorry. I actually prefer David Bowie.”

“Oh.” Jason looked startled. “Well, yeah. Who fuckin' doesn't?” Salim shared a smile with him. The way Jason's face softened made him look younger while still emphasizing the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. It was a charming look.

“Do you live nearby?” he asked.

“Nah. Took a bus to get here.” Jason glanced down at his watch. “Speakin' of, I'd better go out and wait. Next one should be comin' soon.” Salim felt disappointment sink into his gut. He was enjoying this conversation with Jason. “Do you live nearby?” Jason countered.

“Yes, this is my neighborhood.” Jason's eyes moved over Salim, slower this time.

“Maybe tomorrow you can show me what's halal in this store.”

“Oh.” Now Salim was the one who was startled. “Yes, I could do that. Let's say five o'clock?” Jason nodded, his eyes passing over Salim for a third time. Salim swallowed and gave into the temptation of doing the same. Jason's fair cheeks looked a little red, but the other tugged down on the brim of his cap, effectively shadowing his face.

Jason headed out the door. Salim waited before exiting as well and heading over to join his gang. He was sure his expression was neutral despite the thrill of that encounter.

[Well?] Dar demanded.

[He got the message,] Salim assured him. And Salim was going to see him again.

[bllsbailey]

RedState Sports Report: Is There Anything More Boring Lately Than F1?

Greetings from the sports desk located somewhere below decks of the Good Pirate Ship RedState. I have no idea what Sammy the Shark and Karl the Kraken are up to at the moment, although in Sammy‘s case, I imagine it’s probably pouring over prospects' reports in anticipation of getting a high pick in the 2024 draft. Such is life as a Sharks fan. But I digress.

As noted on March 11 by my colleague Jeff Charles, Deadspin, the once provocative and edgy sports website now reduced to a woke shadow of its former self, has been sold yet again, in the process laying off its entire staff as apparently, the new owners want something a bit more aligned with their vision. Precisely what that vision may be remains undetermined, although it may have something to do with reporting on sports instead of trying to score woke points and getting sued in the process.

MORE: Deadspin Has Been Sold Again - New Owners Purge Current Staff

Guess Who's at the Super Bowl? That Kid Who Got Smeared As a Racist by Deadspin

Since the new owners are from Europe, one suspects they will try to convince anyone who might still bother reading the site — if, in fact, said people exist — that a) soccer is the most fantastic team sport there is (it’s not) and that b) F1 is the ultimate in motorsports entertainment. It’s not, for reasons that have become painfully obvious.

If individual dominance to the point of tedium is your definition of sports entertainment, F1 is your cup of tea. Last year, Max Verstappen of Team Red Bull won 19 of 22 races. His wingman … er, teammate Sergio Pérez, won two of the remaining three. The 2024 season is rapidly turning into the 2023 season redux, as Verstappen has won the first two races by over 22 and 13 seconds, respectively, over runner-up Pérez. Oh, what a thrill.

There’s no knocking Verstappen or his team. Clearly, they are the best in the business and deserve everything coming their way. However, when the only point of interest in your entire sport consists of whether or not a team employee sexually harassed another team employee — adding interest to the story for pop culture aficionados is that the accused harasser happens to be married to a former Spice Girl — you’ve got problems, Really, really big problems. Right now, F1 is the most boring spectacle in sports. You know Verstappen will win, and the only question is by how much. When the froth and furor over a car race focuses on who might finish eighth … you get the idea.

Compare this to NASCAR circa 2024. While the sport has declined in popularity recently, did you catch the action at the Atlanta race on February 25?

<span class="fr-mk" style="display: none;"> </span>

Three-wide photo finish. That, my friends, is auto racing at its finest.

F1 snobs—excuse me, fans—love to preen and preach about how excellent their sport is, how significant the technological advances in their cars are, etc., etc., ad nauseam. The latter is accurate, and the $140M or so each team is allowed to spend per year certainly shines in the competition by every team whose sponsor does not give them wings for third each time out.

F1 faces the unique dilemma of beginning to bore its potential audience to death at a time when its audience is at its height, particularly in the United States, courtesy of the “Formula One: Drive to Survive” Netflix series. How exactly are you supposed to entice people into continuing to watch a sport when you know who will win the next race, and all races after that, before it even starts? Hoping that perhaps people might think one of the drivers is cute or funny?

Short of making Verstappen start 30 seconds after everybody else does, it’s difficult to see precisely what F1 can do to create competitive balance in the current situation. It’s not healthy for the sport. You would think they know it, but in their usual vainglorious elitism, F1 doesn’t seem to want to admit that it has a massive issue on its hands for the foreseeable future. But that’s someone else’s problem. Like the new owner of Deadspin.

[bibliocratic]

gift-giving redux, jonmartin

featuring secret hipster Martin and ever so charmed Jon. 

In the early days, when this was a more bird-boned, tentative, arms-length dance of a thing, Jon used to wonder if Peter Lukas was right about not knowing. If that mattered. And then, course, the world ended and then didn't, there was Scotland and another hundred moments in between, and now Jon savours the unfolding of these small knowledges, the evolution of his carefully and precisely filed collection of things he now has the time and privilege to learn.

The newest of his Martin facts; that Martin – when not making manipulative gambit allegiances with morally chaotic fear avatars, or being menaced by a roster of pan-dimensional horrors – is in his own way, kind of particular.

Jon should have known, really. With the retro sensibilities and the lo-fi charm.

Jon wakes up one morning, cushioned in a pudgy over-big duvet, blinking and grunting into awakeness, to find a cup of tea being held out to him. Martin getting back into bed from the cold, touching his chilled feet against Jon's leg.  The mug is a kiln-fired handmade effort, and Martin had explained the process to him while he'd ummed and ahhed over buying a set at a two-day crafts market they'd had to drive fifty minutes to get to.

(Martin had bought the set in the end, when Jon had encouraged him to. In its new home in the cupboard, it clashes horribly with Jon's basic set of one-colour cups and plates and bowls he got from Ikea back in the late 2000's, but Jon likes seeing them there, nestled in next to his own things.)

When the tea cools down enough for him to sip, Jon makes an interested noise.

“What's this?” he asks Martin, who is sitting next to him in bed, pillows squashed and propping him up behind his back. “It's new.”

Martin's put on his reading glasses, and he's flicking idly through the local events pages. (Martin, it has turned out, likes to do things at the weekend. Jon has the sinking feeling that Martin has been suggesting ideas to him and he's just been just humming his agreement, not really awake or listening in his morning-fuzzy, bleary way.)

“It's a loose-tea blend. Kind of a smoky flavour. You like it?”

“Hmm,” Jon replies, deliberately non-partisan, because he's not sold on the taste. He gives it another sip gingerly. “Have we run out of tea bags?”

Jon, contrary to popular belief – I'm not that incapable, Martin! - does make his own tea. He's been buying the same brand for years, the Yorkshire Tea stuff his grandma always used to get, leaving the bag in until it was black and weighty with the taste – Christ, boss, you could stand a spoon up in that, Tim had used to say – before adding milk and sugar.

At the mention of teabags, Martin tries not to look sniffy. He really does. But Jon catches one pained flash of distaste, tamped down by Martin's natural desire to see the best in people. It's the same expression he made when he looked in Jon's cupboards and found the off-brand Red Bull knockoff. The multiple flavours of Pot Noodle and Tesco's own brand tinned soups and baked beans.

Jon feels a wide smile begin on his face (still so rare, still hard-won, but Martin teases them out of him with the smallest things these days).

“You hipster!” he says with delight, secretly pleased he's found something he can tease Martin about. “Have you thrown out my teabags just to make a point?”

“I'm not!” Martin exclaims, rather confidently for a man who owns suspenders. “They're at the back of the cupboard. I just think you deserve better than the wood shavings they put in those things.”

Jon's happiness doesn't abate, and the teasing goes on for some time – is this stage one then? Am I going to come home one day and you've chucked out all my pastas / Those pot noodles have the nutritional content of dog food Jon, I wouldn't choose this as your hill to die on – until Martin stops his mouth with first, a kiss, and then a proposed visit to a local history museum, which they spiritedly argue about at length, enjoying the give and take of the heatless discussion.

Martin had thought that was the end of it.

Until Jon comes home one day, and he's bought Martin a new tea-pot, one of those fancy glass ones with an infuser inside. He doesn't say anything, just leaves it on the side by Martin's growing hoard of tea canisters for him to find.

“Thought you'd like it,” is all he says when Martin asks.

It doesn't stop there. A notebook from one of those alley-way odds-and-sods shops, still bearing a little fairtrade sticker, a striking design of interlocking triangles – If you need one, you know, you've been saying you wanted to get back into your poetry. They take a stroll down Camden Market one weekday and Martin loses Jon for a second, and it turns out he's snuck into one of those faux retro, tragically hip clothes shops, and has purchased a quirky pair of socks bearing breakfast foods with smily faces. Martin makes one comment once about how he quite likes novelty cufflinks, and now he owns three of them, each just appearing in his bedside drawer.

Jon always just raises his shoulders. “Thought you'd like them,” he'll say.

Martin stammers when he tries to say it to Jon, but as much as he isn't very good at showing how much he likes it, how much it means to him, he thinks it's ever so sweet. Thoughtful and sincere, and every time Martin sees something appearing, without fanfare or fuss, knowing that Jon's seen it in a shop window and bought it just because he thinks Martin will like it, well of course it does something funny to his insides. He feels a little melty and has to go find wherever Jon is sitting, squinting over some dry document – he needs reading glasses, he's just being really stubborn about it – , kissing him until he's pink and looking pleased.

Jon will still sneak out the Yorkshire teabags from the back of the cupboard when he thinks Martin's not around. Martin pretends he doesn't notice.

[danthropologie]

Ricciardo opens up on his McLaren departure: “I didn't care anymore" | Goodwood Road and Racing

[mixology-maven]

Healing Potions - a Skyrim inspired trio of cocktails made for hot summer days

These cocktails were made with the idea of rejuvenation, so they all contain a healthy dose of Gatorade, and a small amount of red bull. This will be great at the pool, after mowing the lawn, or slaying a dragon. Closer to Fall, ill probably have a Redux of these built for keeping you warm.

Health Potion

2 oz Fruit Punch Gatorade (Red) 1 oz White Rum 1 oz Coconut Rum 0.5 oz Grenadine 0.5 oz Sour Mix 1 oz Red Bull

Magicka Potion 2 oz Cool Blue Gatorade (Dark Blue) 1 oz Limon Rum 1 oz Blue Curacao 1 oz Orange Juice 1 oz Red Bull

Stamina Potion 1 oz Tequila 1 oz Lime Juice 1 oz Sour Mix 2 oz Lemon Lime Gatorade (Light Green) 1 splash Blue Curacao 1 oz Red Bull Combine all ingredients except Red Bull in a mixing tin, pour into a pint glass filled with ice, top with red bull.

[alasarys]

Danny's Donuts

[onboardsorasora]

I have SO MANY FEELINGS about the two articles that came out about Danny saying the game plan is a seat and Christian saying that The Daniel Ricciardo Rehabilitation Program is working well. And all the pictures and videos! 🥹🥹🥹

All I can say is that it feels like I’m reading all of the Red Bull Redemption stories in one. All of you are oracles, you all saw this happening. All the little bits and pieces that match up the words in a story and I’m here like ‘which ending will win?’🫠🫠

[aion-rsa]

Will the Rocky IV Director’s Cut Kill its Charm?

https://ift.tt/3dJG7Jv

Rocky IV remains a prototypical example of 1980s American franchise filmmaking, having conveyed a patriotic Cold-War-evocative ethos through the aesthetically shiny lens of scrappy superhuman pugilists pummeling each other over revenge and world peace, all to Vince DiCola’s absurd synthesizer-strewn score. Oh, and lest we forget, it had a robot!  While those attributes entitled the 1985 film to the smug dismissal and earnest appreciation of posterity, star/writer/director Sylvester Stallone’s upcoming director’s cut risks erasing its allure.

Stallone, who announced his plan for a new Rocky IV cut last year, has completed his redux of the famous franchise‘s four-quel. However, unlike that other director’s cut dominating current conversations, Zack Snyder’s Justice League, Sly’s upcoming Rocky IV Director’s Cut is an update of a film that was properly released by its director. Having premiered back on Nov. 27, 1985, Rocky IV was a box-office-topping hit that proved profoundly profitable for studio MGM, with a worldwide gross of $300 million ($733.3 million adjusted for inflation,) against a budget of $28 million. Moreover, despite its oft-focused foibles, the film retained enough interest 33 years later to be directly followed up in Creed II. However, to borrow his parlance from 2006’s Rocky Balboa, Stallone seemed to have “stuff in the basement,” to unleash for the fourth film.  

“We’ve just been working on punches and sounds because it’s never complete,” explains Stallone of his director’s cut approach in an Instagram update. “I’ve said this before, you can go back and see a movie that you’ve done 50 years ago and go, ‘I’ve got to re-edit that.’ And every director feels the same way. It’s not about making a movie, it’s about remaking. Unfortunately, you run out of time, you run out of money. They basically throw you out of the room. So, therefore, you don’t get a chance, but on this one, I finally got a chance, so I’m feeling great about this.”

While the full extent of the changes Stallone made to Rocky IV obviously won’t be known until he premieres his new cut, some tidbits have made the rounds. One of the earliest-known changes is the elimination of one of its most campy, pseudo-sci-fi elements, the aforementioned robot. Specifically, the Jetsons-esque talking robot—a real-life invention called SICO, created by International Robotics Inc.—that well-to-do champ Rocky gives as a birthday present to his leachy live-in brother-in-law, Paulie (Burt Young) in the film’s first act. However, the robot—complete with a fancy-for-1985 cordless phone system installed—became a punchline, even for within film, during which it was implied that Paulie eventually altered its settings to sound and act like an alluring female maid that worships him while fetching his beers. Thus, the elimination of the robot not only deletes the amusing automaton, but it also necessitates an essence-altering recut of Paulie’s birthday party scenes. Yet, Stallone’s response to a fan’s posted desire to give SICO a reprieve was met with Ivan Drago-like coldness, stating, “I don’t like the robot anymore.”

MGM/UA

And that brings us to the film’s Siberian Bull big bad himself, Dolph Lundgren’s Ivan Drago, whose claim-to-fame fight in which he beat Carl Weathers’s Apollo Creed to death will apparently be extended in a yet-unknown manner in Stallone’s new cut. The role positioned newcomer Lundgren for stardom in what was only his second onscreen appearance, having previously appeared six months earlier in 1985 Bond movie A View to a Kill as a thug named Venz; a role he acquired due to his real-life romantic relationship with co-star Grace Jones. Besides being an imposing spectacle of a human being (which he remains to this day), Lundgren’s outing as Drago was meant to depict him as the ultimate villain, a soulless Soviet slayer shaped by communism, steroids and all-around godlessness. However, while that façade was shattered by the end of the film (and even more so in Creed II), it remains to be seen if extended Drago scenes—specifically in the Apollo fight—ends up weighing the film down unnecessarily.

Read more

Movies

Rocky IV Director’s Cut Will Ditch Robot

By Mike Cecchini

Culture

Could Rocky Balboa Really Have Gone the Distance?

By Tony Sokol

If there’s one thing that critics can’t take away from Rocky IV, it would have to be Stallone’s artfully economic approach as a director. The film manifests as a slim, trim 91-minute affair that saves money by being deliberately diluted with lengthy montages—FOUR of them in total. In fact, even if we generously discount his blatant reuse of Rocky and Apollo’s Rocky III-closing sparring session for the opening scene, two of said montages fully consist of recycled footage from the previous three films. Indeed, the movie kicks off by playing “Eye of the Tiger” during the franchise-obligatory recap of the previous film’s final fight, and Rocky’s contemplative car ride after Apollo’s death is riddled with flashback scenes, during which a soundtrack song, Robert Tepper’s “No Easy Way Out,” plays out in full! You certainly have to hand it to Sly, the man knows how to get a big bang for his production buck. Yet, as with other intrinsically-Rocky IV aspects, one must wonder if Stallone has soured on his in-retrospect-amiable montage method of movie-making as much as the Robot.

On another note, Rocky IV is also known to be riddled with major movie mistakes, and I do mean A LOT of them; proverbial warts that have also come to define the film. For example, a major continuity mistake occurs before the Apollo/Drago fight when Apollo is in the ring trash-talking Drago, shouting, “I want you! I want you!” while his bare hand mockingly points at the Russian. Of course, just minutes earlier, we saw Apollo getting his hands taped up in his dressing room, and he was clearly gloved up when he came down to the ring in a James Brown-accompanied spectacle entrance. Additionally, a similarly bizarre mistake occurs during Rocky’s mid-movie vision of Drago in the aforementioned “No Easy Way Out” montage, which shows the Russian in the red trunks that he would later wear in the film’s final fight. Yet, most egregiously, Drago is clearly sporting the actual cut under his left eye that Rocky would deliver to him in the second round! While I could see Stallone wanting to fix mistakes like this, it would still be a shame to lose them.

However, a director’s cut of Rocky IV could yield benefits. After all, it could correct Apollo’s funeral scene, in which an odd focus error occurs on the right side of the frame that blurs out a few attendees, leading viewers to think it was censored. Moreover, it could prospectively integrate legendary lost elements. For example, Drago’s iconic evil line—delivered after he just killed Apollo—declaring “If he dies, he dies” was originally complemented by another would-be famous line that wasn’t even delivered in the film, but could finally get its onscreen due. Rocky IV’s teaser trailer featured an ominous introductory monologue from the villain that, contemporaneously, was just associated with the character as the movie line. Delivered in Lundrgen’s labored Russian accent, lines such as “My name is Drago” and “Soon, the whole world will know my name” were prominent pieces of the film’s early ephemera. In fact, the latter line was famously sampled at the end of New Wave act Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s 1986 hit (famously used in Ferris Beuller’s Day Off), “Love Missle F1-11,” in which the trailer clip—along with imitated lines from Scarface and The Terminator—was included to exemplify the song’s commentary on American cinematic ultraviolence.  

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Regardless of how it turns out, fans of the campy four-quel will be anxious to see what surprises Stallone has in store for the Rocky IV Director’s Cut. However, he has yet to reveal release date.

The post Will the Rocky IV Director’s Cut Kill its Charm? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[musicordie-blog]

3, 24, 19 - Radiohead’s Top 20 best songs. (Response to Red Bull sorta)

Google had suggested me Red Bull’s “Top 20 Radiohead Tracks” list via my news feed this morning. I’ve seen a few of these types of lists throughout the years, but this one in particular stood out to me with its more well rounded and considerate approach to their overlooked material. But still, as is often the case, I could not bring myself to agreeing with it overall. (Is giving regards to their mainstream successes really worth the focus of these writers if it keeps bringing “Creep” into the equation? I’m sorry, but despit its legacy, it hasn’t aged well.)

Admittedly, Radiohead has been my personal favorite band since ‘09. I simply have not heard a single better band since my friend Louis showed me “Pyramid Song” off of his 4th gen. iPod Nano that summer. (I’ve before hand become aware of Radiohead’s exsistence from my parents copy of the Grammy Nominees 2001 comp. with the track “Optimistic”, alongside the high probability of hearing “Creep” somewhere along those lines.) I’d say my knowledge of their catalogue at this point is deep enough to take an honest swing at a list of this magnitude, and give some sort of justice to the truly artistic sides of their discography. Either that, or I’ll wind up sounding pretentious in reality. My follower count is currently too low for me to care either way.

(Don’t expect a novel for all of these notes. It’s getting late and I work tomorrow, plus this list is subject to change either by tomorrow morning or directly after I post the list. I may redux this type of list in the future with further explanations, but for now, here’s this.)

20. “Staircase”

An often criminally underrated TKOL b-side. The grooves are insanely addictive and the mystical aura of this track makes it unique and singular amungst their other more danceable cuts.

19. “Jigsaw Falling into Place”

A well loved IR track for good reasons. It captures the band in a rare state of disenchanted romantic story tellings, alongside of the extraordinary guitar work.

18. “Morning Bell/Amnesiac”

It’s the better version. Get over yourself.

17. “Daydreaming”

A stunningly beautiful reminder of the band’s delicate side late into their career. One of their most transportive pieces to date.

16. “Sit Down. Stand Up.”

Why are all the discussions I see for this song only on the misheard lyrics from the climax? This track is a grand testimate to the group’s capabilities of being able to control suspense and give incredible payoffs in return for the listeners patience.

15. “The Tourist”

More than just a sad ending tear jerker, this song flexes its perfect balance of having some of Thom’s best singing performances with outstanding moments of clarity from Ed and Johnny’s roaring guitars.

14. “How to Disappear Completely”

Their one track that always manages to make me either very emotional or can drive me to tears with each listen. Oh the memories of young sadness.

13. “House of Cards”

Gorgeously soft and loving sounds from a previously thought “only sad songs” band. A hypnotizing and mature take on everyday couple interactions.

12. “Scatterbrain”

I never see enough love for this tune. Some of Thom’s best lyricism coupled with playful, yet loomingly sad guitar melodies just always manages to send me elsewhere for its short runtime.

11. “Lucky”

A truly massive track with epic heights and desperately hopeful lows; again, well loved for a reason.

10. “Go Slowly”

Another overlooked classic b-side. This is honestly one the groups greatest acoustic ballads, with a gripping set up leading up to a momentous climax of subtle beauty.

9. “Sail to the Moon”

Human beings wrote this? For real? (This tracks gravity is only best explained through listening to it, so go do that.)

8. “You and Whose Army?”

An incredible achievement in using the most out of a short runtime. A calm yet menacing first half explodes into a total overthrow, with a masterful combination of Thom’s larger-than-life chords he pounds away at on his grand piano, with Johnny’s wall of sound lead guitar.

7. “Bloom”

Holy hell, this track still fucks my head up with its compositional ambitions and planet sized lead vocals. Again, this track’s full power can really only be grasped by hearing it. Go on then.

6. “Reckoner”

An early favorite of mine that still holds its magic to this day. I don’t know of any other band that could possibly create something so light, yet so emotionally heavy. Only a group with this amount of inter connected talents could produce a masterpiece like this one.

5. “Life in a Glasshouse”

People who say “Radiohead attempting jazz at the end of Amnesiac was cringe” are the kind of people who would unironically enjoy some Billie Eilish on the way back home after their yoga class. While this may not inherently be a bad thing, it IS something I don’t fuck with normally.

4. “Knives Out”

These top 4 tracks are interchangeable on most days, but to list it in stone (for now, at least,) this golden egg falls in fourth. The fact that this track never fell into their greatest hits conversations baffles me. The multiple melodies here played over one another on 3 different guitars is some of the best music I’ve ever heard. This one really helps to prove the never ending genius of this band.

3. “Down Is the New Up”

“Why the fuck was this b-side not on In Rainbows?” is, what I’d like to imagine, the question I’d ask any of the 5 band members if I ever have the opportunity to do so. The energy this track brings is so infectious that I nearly crash my car everytime it comes on, and that kind of shit should be illegal to release to the public.

2. “Pyramid Song”

This track’s always near the tops of these sort of lists for a reason. The chord structures, Thom’s incredible singing range, Johnny’s string sections on the final half and Phil’s fucking incredible intro halfway through the song are simply incomprehensible. Again, human beings wrote this??

1. “Cuttooth”

Fuck yes.