#sierra walsh

[kaizenwaus]

five hundred sixteen days gone

The worn off denim did nothing to protect the woman's knees from the sand and small stones that made the gravel adorning the forest's ground, not even shifting her weight from one knee to another would ease the pain of her skin fighting not to break. Although all the stinging on her skin and burning on her muscles was nothing compared to the fear and uncertainty that surrounded the clearing.

Everything was... Perfectly set for this exact moment. Almost as if they had taken their time preparing this area for this. The woman could imagine the bald man with the thick mustache cutting down trees that morning, meanwhile the blond man with the burnt face cleaned everything off as well as he planned how to lure the group to this location. Then one of them had to tell the rest of their friends about the place and the time to meet up, and they had to decide the formation of all their vehicles and the armed men. If that had been the case, they did a good job. The scene was, in fact, quite... Intimidating.

The group of survivors, sinners of innocence and naivety, were on their knees, forming half a circle in front of the motorhome that Eugene had been driving just minutes ago. There were also a couple of cars and other vehicles on the sides, their headlights dazzling the survivors and their engines loud in contrast to the silence of the night.

Behind them stood the army of men and women that called themselves the Saviours, each of them holding a firearm if not two. In front of them there were only three men: the bald man with a distinctive mustache, the blond dude with a burnt face, and... The man. The boss. The leader. Negan himself.

He looked just like Sierra had imagined him: disgustingly smug. He wore dark pants, with a leather belt hanging way too low to be comfortable. It was a cold night, so he also wore a leather jacket with a red scarf around his neck. All of this paired up with leather boots and his weapon of choice: a baseball bat.

This bat, whose name was Lucille (as the man had introduced her), had barbed wire around the top of it, which seemed kind of useless against the undead but was incredibly painful for the living.

Eenie...

After introducing himself and the bat, the man explained the reason why they decided to meet up on this beautiful starry night. He paced from one end of the line of survivors to the other, swinging his bat around as he talked and talked and talked...

The survivors were sweating, the bravest ones looking around frantically to find a way to get out of this situation, but the man did not even let them finish a thought as he laughed loudly or got too close to someone with Lucille.

Meenie...

It was nauseating how free and careless he was, walking around as he sang this stupid little song for kids. Even though he was intimidating, Sierra truly questioned if the man was capable of killing one of them randomly. Deep down she thought this was just his little show, that his random pick was going to be a core member of the group: Rick, Daryl, Michonne, or even herself, she thought. There was also the possibility that Negan only wanted to weaken the leader by killing someone close to him: Carl or Michonne.

Would he really pick someone randomly?

Miney...

Sierra wanted to think a human would not be able to murder someone in cold blood, without a true motive. There was a motive, denying it would be straight up lying, but there were a fair amount of people in this line up that did not participate in said killing.

Questioning human behavior in the context of a literal zombie apocalypse was somewhat difficult if they were trying not to be hypocrites too, so maybe he was going to do as he said. Maybe, as he sang and as he pointed randomly at different survivors he was truly picking someone to kill. Maybe, for him this was just a game.

Mo...

The wielder of the named bat stood in front of Carl, causing everyone to cringe at the thought of the teenager becoming this psychopath's victim. But they were able to breathe again as the man continued his game – ironically, considering that if Carl was not the one tagged then the odds of being of them just rose.

Catch...

Rosita.

A tiger...

Rick.

By...

Eugene.

His toe...

Daryl.

My mother...

Michonne.

Told me...

Glenn.

To pick...

Aaron.

The very best one...

Maggie.

And you're...

Sierra. Negan left his bat staring at the blonde for a few more seconds than anybody else before her, he even bent down to stare right at her, taking in the hateful look the woman was giving him. Without breaking eye contact, the man smirked, winked at her and took blind aim with his bat as he sketched the last word of his song: it.

Abraham.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything..." the man started speaking with a smirk on his face after he looked at who Lucille had chosen, slowly and almost teasingly walking away from the blonde woman to face his victim "Cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start"

The bravery and strength with which Abraham presented himself to his soon-to-be murderer was highly admirable. The red-haired man refused to be submissive to the man's inflated ego, he could not forgive himself if his actions fed that man's grotesque and disgusting attitude. Much to Abraham's dismay, this façade only made Negan both flattered and challenged, making him want to prove what he could be able to do. To prove how much of a cold-blooded killer he could be. How much he truly did not care about their lives and only about what they could do for him.

"You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry..." the man chuckled, firmly gripping his beloved bat and lifting it up slowly "Hell, you're all gonna be doing that"

Abraham was standing straight, subtly giving his most recent lover the hand signal they had translated to "I love you" as she silently broke down before everyone. On the opposite side, his ex-girlfriend could not even watch the scene. Watching the man she had learnt to love standing tall on his knees, keeping eye contact with the monster that was about to end his life. Not everyone was able to watch, it was not only Rosita (his former partner) that looked away into the distance as tears streamed down her face. Others, who were not as close to Abraham as Sasha (his lover) was, also dared to watch as Negan cruelly attacked the man.

Gasps, sobs, cries... Those were the noises that took over the crickets as the bat was smashed against Abraham's skull. The echo of the hit was painful, you could almost hear the metal spikes digging into his skin, the blood gushing down his face, Abraham's incoherent mumbles as he tried to speak his last words: "Suck... My... Nuts"

Negan laughed at him before hitting him again, this time harder and leaving him on the ground. He even taunted him, repeating his last words as he looked to his followers to further enjoy his mockery of the victim. He hit him again, and again, and again, and again... He fully raged at the corpse, letting all his anger out on the innocent man's man until his red hair was too faded with the blood to point it out. In Negan's head, this was his revenge for all the Saviors Rick's group had murdered.

If the roles had been reversed, Sierra would not have considered this enough of a punishment. But her perspective of the situation could not let her think too much about it, at least rationally. Her mind was occupied by the little drops of blood that had fallen on Rosita's face, or how Sasha just had to witness the death of her lover very much like she had to a few years ago (without all the cruelty, surely).

The violence and helplessness surrounding the scene were too overwhelming for the woman to be able to have any other thoughts that did not involve wishing for Negan's death or planning how to murder him and his entire group. It was not only overwhelming for her, but also for everyone and everything around her. It was visible, palpable... So noticeable that not even the undead (or walkers, as Sierra had grown accustomed to call them) dared to approach the small clearing in the forest. Not even the walking dead dared to interrupt Negan's moment, his superiority and control over everyone else scarily good as well as incredibly infuriating.

Sierra's stomach was growling in disgust, her breath going faster, her heart pumping what felt like lava in her chest... She bit her tongue, pinched the skin on her wrists to keep herself from fighting back or talking back to him.

"You guys, look at my dirty girl!" the man yelled, showing off his bloody bat and swinging it around in the air – bits and pieces of Abraham's something flying off, until he just pointed the weapon at Rosita, who still could not dare to look at it "Sweetheart... Look at this"

Her eyes were fixated on the red tinted gravel, too shocked to even register tha taunting words of the man responsible for it. Negan enjoyed the state she was in, he watched her and smiled at how miserable she was and how powerful that made him, continuing his tormenting: "Oh, were you together? That sucks!"

Each word that left his mouth was one more log of wood thrown into the fire growing within Sierra. Her chest was growing tighter, her heart pumping faster and her skin getting hotter... Her whole body became a bomb, the clock showing how many seconds until it exploded being each and every word Negan directed towards her friend.

"But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this" he laughed.

Ten seconds. Ten more cruel words is all she needed...

"Red -- and hell, he was, is, and will ever be"

The blonde woman growled in an animalistic way as she jumped off the ground and lunged towards the man, grabbing him by his crimson scarf to hold him in place and punching his face with her other hand. She was fisting the scarf so hard that he did not even move one inch, his neck and jaw taking all the pain and movement. Before she could land another hit, two of his men grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from him, attempting to tackle her to the ground.

Attempting.

Sierra managed to avoid being immobilized by the two Saviours, pushing and punching them until one of them was knocked out by the motorhome and the other one was in a headlock.

She heard Rick calling her name as a warning, while Negan frowned at her in pure and raw anger. He huffed, and she watched. Everyone watched, holding their breaths, as Negan and Sierra stared at each other in a silent war.

"Let him go" a man behind her talked as she felt a crossbow she knew too damn well pressed against the back of her "Or this will be the last thing you do"

She looked briefly towards her found family, all of them scared of what was about to happen to either them or her. It was Carl that slightly nodded to her, letting her know that the best thing she could do right now is listen.

Very slowly, she let go of the man and raised her hands in the air. The man walked away from her, holding his neck in discomfort, meanwhile the man behind her kicked the back of her knee and grabbed her hair to make her look up at Negan.

"Who do you think you are?" he spat angrily at her, almost in a whisper.

"Your worst fucking nightmare" she smirked.

As soon as those words left her mouth, she was hit by the consequences of her own actions. Lucille collided against her cheek with almost superhuman strength, breaking her skin with the force of impact and the barbed wire dragging against her flesh. It was such a strong blow that Sierra fell to her side, barely managing to collect herself with her hands.

"That!" Negan spoke to the rest of the group while pointing at the injured woman with his bat "That is a no-no! That whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!"

His words reverberated against her skull as her heartbeat moved to the bleeding wound on her face, her whole vision turning red and in her ears growing an uncomfortable ringing. Someone close to her, probably the man that threatened her with Daryl's crossbow, dragged his unconscious colleague away from the motorhome – thus leaving a clear path for Sierra to crawl under the vehicle and hide as Negan ranted.

"Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with... But I'm a man of my word. I already told you people, first one's free, then what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down!"

Sierra was halfway under the motorhome when someone dragged her out by her ankle, exposing her torso and dragging her skin against the gravel. The man turned her around, making her face him as he pointed the crossbow to her head. She blindly tried to cover her face, her hands clumsy as her vision was deprived of focus and other colors beside red, still she was able to see the blond man with a burnt face speaking to her: "Where do you think you're going?"

"Please..." she whispered, struggling to speak as her mouth filled up with her own blood.

"You've got guts, lady" Negan looked down at her, before turning to the blond man "Dwight, load her up, I like her"

The man, now known as Dwight, grabbed the woman by her hair and dragged her towards a black van. She kicked her legs and yelled in pain, in way too much pain to try to put on a façade in front of the Saviors. In a desperate attempt to avoid being taken, she went to grab... Something. Her left hand flew to the floor, trying to grab some kind of anchor that would keep her from being abducted.

But it was the anchor that found her. Glenn's hand went over hers and gave her a reassurance squeeze, too fast to be noticed by anyone else besides them. She knew what it meant. She knew it was a silent promise, an oath to her that she would not be held against her will too long – and he was going to make sure of that.

Dwight threw her in the back of the van rather aggressively, making her whole body ache more (if that was even possible). She used the last bit of her strength to lunge towards him, but her fist was met by the van's doors being closed right in front of her.

"Feisty, just how I like them" she could hear Negan talking to her people, dwelling on his own gain and the group's loss of a great asset "She's mine now, so... Back to it!"

Sierra only managed to hear a loud thud, similar to the sound of Lucille crashing against Abraham's skull, accompanied by gasps and a woman crying out: "No!"

She hit the van's doors in frustration, hearing the suffering of her friends combined with her own physical pain becoming too much for her, until she eventually felt herself give up to the blood loss and overstimulation. Her knees got weaker and she could no longer hold herself up, her stomach growled as her chest heaved, her heart finally relaxing and her face going numb. She brought her hand up to her open wound, feeling the wetness and roughness of blood mixed with gravel against the tips of her fingers – perfect cocktail for an infection, she thought.

Her back was resting against the van's walls, feeling how they vibrated from the noises coming from outside. She tried to fight off the tiredness that overcame her, but her eyelids seemed to have grown independent from her brain's orders. Slowly all the tension left her body as she felt herself weighting more as she let go... Pain and life threatening anemia made her shut her body down to a comatose state, the last words she was able to register from outside echoing through the van's walls:

No exceptions.

[omercifulheaves]

High Sierra (1941)

[scenephile]

Means he’s free

[entrehormigones]

[awkadoodledoo]

The man just saved your life and he told you *not* to tell the stranger who you worked for. What do you do? Decide to trust this man who upon seeing a gun, his first instinct was to grab it out of Six's pants?? And then have the audacity to ask "Is this happening because I told who I was?"

[mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves]

High Sierra (1941, Raoul Walsh, USA)

[byneddiedingo]

Ida Lupino and Humphrey Bogart in High Sierra (Raoul Walsh, 1941)

Cast: Humphrey Bogart, Ida Lupino, Arthur Kennedy, Alan Curtis, Joan Leslie, Henry Travers, Cornel Wilde, Donald MacBride, Henry Hull, Willie Best, Barton MacLane, Jerome Cowan. Screenplay: John Huston, W.R. Burnett, based on a novel by Burnett. Cinematography: Tony Gaudio. Film editing: Jack Killifer. Music: Adolph Deutsch.

Ida Lupino gets first billing in High Sierra, an indication of where Humphrey Bogart's career stood at the time. He had labored for Warner Bros. for more than a decade as a supporting actor, usually in gangster films and occasionally miscast in roles like the Irish stablemaster in Dark Victory (Edmund Goulding, 1939). High Sierra would be a breakthrough into leading man roles, establishing his persona as a tough guy with a soft heart, as in films like Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942) and To Have and Have Not (Howard Hawks, 1944). He owes his role in High Sierra in large part to its screenwriter, John Huston, who as a director would emphasize the tough Bogart over the softie: the brutal Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (1941) and the vicious Fred C. Dobbs in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948). In High Sierra, however, although Roy Earle has just been released from prison and is off to pull another caper, he's full of nostalgia for his childhood as a farmboy and along the road adopts a family heading west, where Pa (Henry Travers) hopes to get a job and help his granddaughter, Velma (Joan Leslie), get surgery for her clubfoot. Roy gets soft on Velma and pays for the operation, but his marriage proposal is turned down. Just as Roy has a soft side, Velma is at heart a party girl and wants to go back east and hook up with her ne'er-do-well boyfriend. High Sierra is full of reversals like that. Lupino, for example, plays a party girl who goes soft on Roy and turns into a stand-by-your-man accomplice. And there's even a cute little dog who turns out to be a jinx and rats on Roy at a crucial moment. There's a good deal of silliness in the plotting of High Sierra, as well as some lamentable racist shtick forced on the fine comic actor Willie Best, who is usually caught napping and awakens with his eyes crossed. But at its best, especially in the climactic chase scene along winding dirt roads in the Sierra, the film is a good vehicle for Bogart's leap into superstardom.

[enretrogue]

𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗟 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟭)

.☘︎ ݁˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC REC M.LIST

MCU

BUCKY BARNES

Bumblebee Series: 1 ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 ⎢ 7 ⎢  ��� @angrythingstarlight .☘︎ ݁˖

Soft!Dark!Mafia!Bucky x Runaway Bride!Reader — @angrythingstarlight .☘︎ ݁˖

Peachy Sweet: 1 ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @straywords .☘︎ ݁˖

FRANK CASTLE/THE PUNISHER

Apple Bottom Jeans (+Billy Russo) — @bubuslutty

#15 w/ Frank Castle — @bits-and-babs

Bambi With Fangs ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 — @bubuslutty

Bring Me Home — @frvnkcastles

Bakery AU — @devils-dares

Love Language (+ Billy Russo) — @bubuslutty

Imagine #1,044 (+ Shane Walsh) — @komotionlessqueenmm

Primal — @darlingshane

Instagram AU — @amhrosina

You’re Everything I Never Knew I Needed — @lemon-world1

Cowboy!Frank — @rrestrella

Really Bad Week — @chvoswxtch

“Come here…Hey! I said come. Here.” — @bullet-prooflove

Sanctuary — @glossysoap

Biting Truth — @narcolini

Soft Morning Sex w/ Frank — @amhrosina

Cutesy Blurb — @thyme-in-a-bubble

Frank w/ An Inexperienced Reader — @amhrosina

STEVE ROGERS

His Inheritance: Chapter 26 ⎢ Chapter 27 — @jtargaryen18

FRANK CASTLE + MATT MURDOCK

Spelling Out “I Love You” — @amhrosina

Baking w/ Matty and Frankie — @chvoswxtch

An Unexpected Delight — @amhrosina

TWD

GLENN RHEE

CDC — @collecting-stories

Feel Me — @nikkisheep

Never Stopped Looking — @glennrheesworld

Sex w/ Glenn — @strgrlxox

PEAKY BLINDERS

LUCA CHANGRETTA

Busted — @mlmxreader

Our Scars — @arzennn

MICHAEL GRAY

Behind On That Cute Date ⎢ Chocolate Pie — @anonymooseforever007

ALFIE SOLOMONS

Airport Snow — @there-goes-thefighter

Angel of Birmingham — @darkdevasofdestruction

Quid Pro Quo — @scorpiussage

THOMAS SHELBY

Dragon’s Den — @pherelesytsia

Afternoon Shelby Chaos ⎢The Boys ⎢Dad!Tommy ⎢Mr. Giraffe — @teenwolf-theoriginals

Mama Bear — @dlmlufics

Arthur + Cards — @dlmlufics

Big Sister Bess — @dlmlufics

Escape to Me — @daisyblinder

GEN. PEAKY BLINDERS

The Proposal (Shelby!Reader) — @anonymooseforever007

TGM

COURT GENTRY/SIERRA SIX

Take a Nap Amidst the Storm — @lloydsbitch

Home — @welcome-to-my-multiverse

SIERRA SIX + LLOYD HANSEN

Ready for Destruction (Prologue) — @holylulusworld

STRANGER THINGS

JIM HOPPER

Handcuffed — @thisfanisgonesorry

Taking Control — @call-me-little-sunshine84

Workplace Gossip — @darling-i-read-it

Batch of Cookies — @sunnylands-world

Hopper x Sleepy!Reader — @ddejavvu

DBF!Hopper — @ddejavvu

Final Essay — @keerysteacake

Plain Old Man — @ddejavvu

Out of the Woods — @mypoisonedvine

DBF!Hopper — @empresskylo

[gatutor]

Humphrey Bogart-Joan Leslie "El último refugio" (High Sierra) 1941, de Raoul Walsh.

[apileofpans]

Birthday audio/video gifts!

It is my hecking birthday this month, y’all! To celebrate I am giving away videos and audios from Phantom of the Opera that positively ruined me (AKA some of my faves) !

NOTE: the links will work until November 6th, 10 AM CEST! After that they won’t work anymore :) If any of the masters want me to remove their master, let me know and I will!

Everything, including cast info, is under the cut!

Video

US Tour - Dallas, April 6, 2006 Evening Gary Mauer, Elizabeth Southard, Jim Weitzer, Kim Stengel, John Jellison, DC Anderson, Patti Davidson-Gorbea, John Whitney, Kate Wray https://ln5.sync.com/dl/b833dd740/gvnusjtv-a7wywsjy-98mvkiid-nsa6ksqp

Las Vegas Spectacular - August 8, 2008 (SunsetBlvd79) Anthony Crivello, Kristi Holden, Andrew Ragone, Geena Jeffries Mattox, John Leslie Wolfe, Lawson Skala, Tina Walsh, Larry Wayne Morbitt, Brianne Kelly Morgan https://ln5.sync.com/dl/f4b151790/79fc7xe8-emk99ug5-va2ndite-vrapb47x

Broadway - May 12, 2014 (inallyorufantasies, turnofthescorpion) Norm Lewis, Sierra Boggess, Jeremy Hays, Michele McConnell, Tim Jerome, Laird Mackintosh, Ellen Harvey, Christian Šebek https://ln5.sync.com/dl/9dbe75640/89h6694u-db6i4y53-ker76kab-xtm9qbj3

Boadway - May 20, 2003 Hugh Panaro, Lisa Vroman, John Cudia, Julie Schmidt (u/s), Jeff Keller, George Lee Andrews , Marilyn Caskey, Larry Wayne Morbitt, Joelle Gates https://ln5.sync.com/dl/04cef73f0/watx9j5t-s2amh9zy-hmxqchav-2h2sf3ra

West End - August, 2018 Ben Lewis, Amy Manford, Jeremy Taylor https://ln5.sync.com/dl/8a1ae4700/ys5mbar9-yas2ewaq-rrnk4sye-wt5pgdtb

Trieste, Italy - July 15, 2023 (Filthybonnet) Ramin Karimloo, Amelia Milo, Bradley Jaden, Earl Carpenter, Ian Mowat, Anna Corvino, Gian Luca Pasolini, Alice Mistroni, Zoe Nochi https://ln5.sync.com/dl/f916fe200/6dw52cqj-usu7pimm-zbgk2gdg-9qixj3d4

Audios

Broadway - September 26, 1990 Steve Barton, Rebecca Luker, Gary Lindemenn (u/s), Marilyn Caskey, Jeff Keller, George Lee Andrews, Leila Martin https://ln5.sync.com/dl/21e8e2db0/wsqmti8i-4d4vukku-xs8fvh3y-85kjak3h

Broadway - May 10, 2003 Hugh Panaro, Lisa Vroman, John Cudia, Patricia Phillips, Jeff Keller, George Lee Andrews (u/s), Marilyn Caskey, Joelle Gates, Larry Wayne Morbitt https://ln5.sync.com/dl/5640398d0/3d5axeix-ie6cpr3t-4j7fbew7-5q8mjcqq

Broadway - August 19, 2014 (Oogie Boogie) Norm Lewis, Sierra Boggess, Jeremy Hays https://ln5.sync.com/dl/59b8c8720/hzpmzgq7-5hx5xqx9-4e6h4qt2-ynn5dmw6

Broadway - April 6, 2023 (phantomygoodness) Jeremy Stolle (u/s), Julia Udine (alt.), John Riddle, Nehal Joshi, Craig Bennett, Raquel Suarez Groen, Maree Johnson, Carlton Moe, Sara Etsy https://ln5.sync.com/dl/dfa420090/i2m495z9-zwdgyka9-r2k9njdn-tu9hwt9m

Las Vegas Spectacular - September 2, 2012 Anthony Crivello, Kristi Holden, Andrew Ragone, Joan Sobel, Lawson Skala, John Leslie Wolfe, Tina Walsh, Larry Wayne Morbitt, Brianne Kelly Morgan https://ln5.sync.com/dl/882621a90/2kz2ajn8-nkre4uhw-5y7vesm6-gmk3pv7v

West End- October 27, 2017 Ben Lewis, Amy Manford (alt), Jeremy Taylor, Una Reynolds (u/s), Siôn Lloyd, Mark Oxtoby, Jacinta Mulcahy, Paul Ettore Tabone, Lily Howes (u/s) https://ln5.sync.com/dl/d6fa41cb0/axfwkn8z-66dpfim8-7uekxefw-aahsqs8x

West End - September 1, 2018 Evening (Winschi) Ben Lewis, Kelly Mathieson, Jeremy Taylor, Lara Martins, Siôn Lloyd, Mark Oxtoby, Jacinta Mulcahy, Paul Ettore Tabone, Georgia Ware https://ln5.sync.com/dl/99b982430/9dpb2hez-rex5y3nn-z9e963m3-wm57qfu2

West End - November 13, 2021 Evening (starprincess) Killian Donnelly, Lucy St Louis, Rhys Whitfield, Saori Oda, Tim Morgan, Adam Linstead, Francesca Ellis, Greg Castiglioni, Ellie Young https://ln5.sync.com/dl/fcffc67e0/7362xu65-tefiqt8x-9z3njksk-353iuqjk

West End -March 4, 2023 (verytheatricaltrades) Earl Carpenter (t/r), Holly-Anne Hull, Matt Blaker, Matt Harrop, Adam Linstead, Kelly Glyptis, Greg Castiglioni, Francesca Ellis, Ellie Young https://ln5.sync.com/dl/f142d9230/5ngjfdrx-fhjmc9wf-x2yhme8h-z4exy8cf

[filmnoirfoundation]

We made a change to the second feature of Friday night's #noircity21 program. We're unable to screen 'Four Against the World" (9:20) Instead, "Symphony for a Massacre" will screen. Tickets: http://noircity.com

Friday • January 26DOUBLE FEATURE

THE ASPHALT JUNGLE

7:15 PM

A landmark in the history of crime movies and the progenitor of all heist films that followed. John Huston had provided the script for Raoul Walsh's 1940 film version of author W.R. Burnett's outlaw saga High Sierra and, ten years later, he snapped up Burnett's latest crime novel to direct himself. The film had an immediate and lasting impact on crime movies and literature. It subverted the Production Code by making its criminals working professionals with whom audiences empathized. Vivid and note-perfect.

UNITED STATES (1950) Dir. John Huston. 112 min.

SYMPHONY FOR A MASSACRE / SYMPHONIE POUR UN MASSACRE

9:20 PM

Perhaps the ultimate heist double-cross movie. A quintet of Parisian businessmen go in on a drug deal, but one of them has a daring plan to hijack the loot and run off with a comrade’s wife. A start-to-finish nail-biter co-scripted by the controversial José Giovanni (who also costars) and directed by thriller specialist Jacques Deray (La Piscine, A Bigger Splash). In French with English subtitles

FRANCE (1963) Dir. Jacques Deray. 115 min.

TICKETS FOR FRIDAY DOUBLE FEATURE

[citizenscreen]

Ida Lupino, Raoul Walsh, and Humphrey Bogart on set of HIGH SIERRA (1941)

[dear-indies]

late to the party on finding out t*mothee chalamet was a ZIONIST. ew. may I please have some alt fcs for him? thank you !

Assad Zaman (1990) Pakistani.

Kiowa Gordon (1990) Hualapai and White - has spoken up for Palestine!

Taylor Zakhar Perez (1991)

Jeremy Allen White (1991)

Avan Jogia (1992) Gujarati Indian.

Maxence Danet-Fauvel (1993)

Freddy Carter (1993) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Fabien Frankel (1994) Ashkenazi Jewish, Indian Jewish, Iraqi Jewish / French and Italian.

Aaron Pierre (1994) Jamaican, Curaçaoan, and Sierra Leoneon.

Jeff Satur (1995) Thai.

Jack Wolfe (1995) - is queer - donated an auction to Cinema4Gaza!

Achraf Koutet (1995) Moroccan - has spoken up for Palestine!

Archie Madekwe (1995) Igbo Nigerian (one quarter), White - has spoken up for Palestine!

Kodi Smit-McPhee (1996) - has ankylosing spondylitis.

Álvaro Rico (1996)

Deaken Bluman (1996)

Aria Shahghasemi (1996) Iranian.

Alex Fitzalan (1996)

Tamino (1996) Lebanese-Egyptian / White.

Josh Heuston (1996) part Sri Lankan.

Asa Butterfield (1997) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Jacob Elordi (1997)

Spencer Macpherson (1997)

Hero Fiennes Tiffin (1997)

Hassan Kello (1997) Syrian.

Itzan Escamilla (1997)

Manu Ríos (1998)

Corey Mylchreest (1998)

Felix Mallard (1998)

Jayden Revri (1999) Jamaican / White.

Conan Gray (1999) Japanese / White - doesn't want to label his sexuality.

Ferdia Walsh-Peelo (1999)

Bilal Hasna (1999) Palestinian / Punjabi.

Lucas Jade Zumann (2000) Ashkenazi Jewish / possibly German - has spoken up for Palestine!

D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (2001) Ojibwe, Cree, Chinese Guyanese, Afro Guyanese and White.

Also fuck Dune!

[dweemeister]

The Strawberry Blonde (1941)

During the height of the Old Hollywood Studio System – when studios themselves contracted directors, actors, writers, and other craftspersons – Warner Bros. found its niche as the “dark” studio. Warners might not have invented the gangster picture, but they codified its archetypes and tropes, becoming synonymous with the subgenre. In the early 1940s, director Raoul Walsh (a film noir pioneer; 1940’s They Drive by Night and 1941’s High Sierra) was nearing the peak of his career and actor James Cagney (1938’s Angels with Dirty Faces, 1949’s White Heat) was perhaps Warners’ most bankable star. Walsh was known for his proto-noir works and crime dramas; Cagney arguably the era’s definitive gangster actor. By 1941, both needed something different to work with.

Adapted by brothers Julius J. and Philip G. Epstein from James Hagan’s pastoral stage play One Sunday Afternoon, The Strawberry Blonde was exactly what both men sought. The Strawberry Blonde – often billed as a romantic comedy because it is a much lighter adaptation than 1933’s One Sunday Afternoon (starring Gary Cooper and Fay Wray) – is a celebration of simple, unadorned love. Though not a gag-a-minute comedy, Walsh’s uncharacteristic film shines through the performances from Cagney and especially Olivia de Havilland (three years removed from The Adventures of Robin Hood and two from Gone with the Wind). It is a joyous and nostalgic production; perhaps it should be no wonder it was a career favorite film for Walsh and a highlight for Cagney.

The Strawberry Blonde occupies two time periods. The film is set in New York City sometime in the late nineteen aughts or early 1910s, but primarily told through flashback during the late 1890s. In the flashback, Biff Grimes (James Cagney) aspires to become a dentist and yearns for a strawberry blonde socialite named Virginia Brush (Rita Hayworth; whose singing voice is, in a fleeting scene, not dubbed for the only time in her career). Along with his buddy and soon-to-be business partner, Hugo Barnstead (Jack Carson), they go on a messy double date with Virginia and her friend, the nurse and suffragist-leaning Amy Lind (Olivia de Havilland). Upon first impressions, Biff considers Amy to be the less attractive, amusing, and sociable girl. When fate – or, more precisely, Hugo’s duplicity – intervenes, Biff and Amy find love together and marry. While Biff begins studying for a dentistry diploma by mail correspondence, the two navigate financial and personal travails. Despite the marriage, Biff harbors a stewing resentment towards Hugo and a lingering covetousness towards Virginia apparent in the film’s bookends.

Among the bit players are Alan Hale as Biff’s father; George Tobias as Biff’s and Amy’s Greek immigrant friend, Nicholas Pappalas; Una O’Connor as Mrs. Mulcahey; and George Reeves (a future television Superman) as a belligerent, loudmouth, mustachioed college man who – due to his sweater – I choose to believe is from Yale. The four actors listed here, all Warner Bros. contractees at the time, each have their memorable moments.

The Strawberry Blonde serves as a memorialization to the time of Walsh and Cagney’s upbringing, similar to Vincente Minnelli’s Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) and, if one wants to draw a modern throughline, the Duffer Brothers’ Stranger Things. In many ways, the film also feels like a musical. There are numerous diegetic performances of songs – whether by our central cast or a band – popular during the turn of the century. “The Band Played On” (from which the film derives its title; “Casey would waltz with a strawberry blonde / and the band played on”), “Bill Bailey”, “The Fountain in the Park”, “Meet Me in St. Louis”, “Wait ‘Till the Sun Shines, Nellie”, and much more fill the soundtrack. Composer Heinz Roemheld’s (1942’s Yankee Doodle Dandy, 1947’s The Lady from Shanghai) work adapts many of these songs into a boisterous, energetic score. Roemheld knows when to dial his orchestra back during the film’s most intimate scenes, but this wall-to-wall score evokes the period. Ostensibly, according to the screenplay, it was a time of romantic walks and live music performances in almost all social settings. In a sense, these decisions make The Strawberry Blonde into a sort of half-musical.

With his most recent movie being the film noir High Sierra (1941) with Ida Lupino and Humphrey Bogart, the transition from a largely outdoors-set crime drama to interior-heavy romantic comedy nevertheless suited Walsh. Walsh receives immeasurable help from one of the best cinematographers ever in James Wong Howe (1941’s Abe Lincoln in Illinois, 1963’s Hud). Howe’s signature high-contrast, low key lighting – generally associated with film noir – is not present much in The Strawberry Blonde. But what Walsh and Howe accomplish is making a bygone decade contemporary again. Outside the film’s romantic scenes including Cagney and de Havilland or Cagney and Hayworth, the film’s frames overflow with activity. With masterful use of blocking and mise en scène in these moments, Walsh and Howe’s frames are always dynamic, moving – but not swooping – alongside masses of extras and supporting characters rather than staying put, as if taking still photography. A static camera during Biff’s dates out on town would immediately render The Strawberry Blonde as a dusty artifact, a creaky throwback. Stationary cinematography has its uses when there are plenty of actors on-screen, but such a decision would make this remake too much like its 1930s original. Instead, in conjunction with Orry-Kelly’s (1951’s An American in Paris, 1959’s Some Like It Hot) outstanding costume design, the past leaps out of the history books and memories to be present again.

The notable instances in which Walsh and Howe keep their camera as rigid as possible are when Biff finds himself at the park bench where he and Amy first met. The set for the park also happens to be art director Robert M. Haas’ (1941’s The Maltese Falcon, 1949’s The Inspector General) plainest craftsmanship in the entire film. These scenes are the most obviously soundstage-bound moments – the too-perfect grass, the flatness, and lack of discernible lighting – despite the extras strolling in the deep background. The Strawberry Blonde’s park scenes mark the beginning and the renewal of Biff and Amy’s relationship, rendering them arguably the romantic highlights of the film. The contrast from these scenes to places such as the beer garden, the Central Park Zoo, or the Statue of Liberty make them the least “present” of the film. Some viewers less experienced in Old Hollywood (or those who, wrongfully, dismiss the style altogether) might complain about the obvious artifice in those park bench scenes with Biff and Amy, but my goodness does the aesthetic contrast make one take notice. Not only that, but the Epstein brothers’ dialogue for Cagney and de Havilland here is gently funny, and filled with warmth.

James Cagney, with his vaudeville background, was known for his physically exaggerated performances that nevertheless maintained a raw emotional core. That works to his benefit throughout The Strawberry Blonde, in which the character of Biff often sounds calm and measured, but his words bely fearfulness and bitterness. Despite the tough-guy gangster persona he often played in Warners’ gangster pictures, there are shades of Cagney’s later performance as George M. Cohan in Yankee Doodle Dandy here. Look at the grace in his dancing at the beer garden, a seemingly spontaneous cartwheel upon learning wonderful news, and how he putters about restlessly when conversing with Amy for the first time while expecting Virginia to show up. But also notice his weariness during the film’s bookends, how he accepts – but does not despair about – his station in life.

Olivia de Havilland is Cagney’s equal in this film, and a great foil to Rita Hayworth (whose character of Virginia is depicted as more conventionally attractive, but possesses a casual cruelty and vanity that gradually reveals itself). A middle-class nurse is an unusual role for an actress known at the time for mostly playing rich women and/or Errol Flynn’s love interest in swashbucklers or Westerns. As Amy, de Havilland curiously receives two “introductory” scenes in the film – both radically different from the other in storytelling function, reflecting the rarity of a second first impression and Biff’s tendency to see only surface details. Seemingly reserved but playful when she wishes to be, de Havilland’s Amy is an absolute delight of a character from the moment she appears. One crucial moment late in the film – in which Biff is dancing around an implied truth so that he can soften the blow for Amy – is heartbreaking acting from both. De Havilland’s movement and her glance outside the window in that scene epitomizes the agony in that moment. Knowing both actors’ resumes, I initially came into The Strawberry Blonde thinking that, on paper, Cagney and de Havilland would be a romantic mismatch. What a happy surprise it is to be completely wrong.

Unlike contemporary films that might take a nostalgic trip to a decade like the 1970s, ‘80s, or ‘90s, The Strawberry Blonde feels, at times, truly transporting. The incredible attention to visual details and especially the diegetic music (too often those newer nostalgia-driven movies resort to pin drops of non-diegetic music) help immensely. Though the film suggests an immigrant experience that would have been appropriate for turn-of-the-century New York, The Strawberry Blonde declines to say more about it – most likely a result of the original source material (“pickaninny”, a derogatory term that refers to black or dark-skinned children, is casually used in a song’s lyric).

At the center of this rich period detail lies an honest love between two people flowing through life’s currents. Sometimes their love is troubled with melodramatics, but they find ways to comfort and help the other with humor and goodness. Sure, it can be sentimental stuff. But it endures an upsettingly difficult test. The Strawberry Blonde has no designs to being other than a sincere love story and a fond lookback of another time. As such, it triumphs – with just one more chorus of “The Band Played On”, if you please.

My rating: 7.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL). Half-points are always rounded down.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.