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Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated The Panopticon in Books
May 13, 2017
This is my all time favouurite book.
Jenny Fagan stated in an interview in 2013 that prior to writing the novel The Panopticon (2012) she had one question, ‘is it possible to achieve autonomy?’ Fagan explores this question throughout her novel with the character of Anais Hendrix. I would also suggest that the author is metaphorically exploring whether Scotland can achieve autonomy as an independent nation. Autonomy, in relation to the individual, is self-governance- or being able to decide for oneself
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
RəX Regent (349 KP) rated The Dark Knight Rises (2012) in Movies
Feb 19, 2019
Contains spoilers, click to show
After four years, since The Dark Knight ended, leaving us wanting more and seven years since Christopher Nolan reinvented the comic book adaptation with Batman Begins, The final chapter of The Dark Knight Trilogy has arrived.
With this much hype, would it possible live up to potentially bloated expectations? The first reviews hit last monday, with 4 to 5 stars being the consensus. Well, it did! The Dark Knight returns one last time, after eight years have passed since the events of The Dark Knight and Batman had retreated into the rebuilt Wayne Manor as Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), maintaining the lie that Harvey Dent was Gotham’s The White Knight, and not the maniacal Two-Face, had managed to clean up Gotham City.
Batman was no longer needed but in the meantime, Bane has arrived in the city with grand plans for its destruction. I won’t go much further into the plot that this, though I will probably write a more spoiler heavy review for the Blu-ray later in the year. But for now, I will try to maintain the film’s integrity.
When we first meet Bruce Wayne after almost a decade of seclusion, he is a broken man, both physically and mentally following the murder of his childhood sweetheart, Rachel Dawes in the previous film and the toll of nightly combat. So the first port of call is to bring Batman back to the streets of Gotham. The sense of excitement is palpable and very much a part of what makes Nolan’s films tick.
He draws his audience into the narrative as if we are part of the events and the universe as it unfolds, leaving us not just wanting Batman to return for the sake of the action but for Gotham’s sake as well. Bane, played so excellently by Tom Hardy, was a little difficult to understand from behind his mask, but still conveyed an enormous amount of presence and power, as he lays siege to the city but not as Terrorist per say, but as a freedom fighter or revolutionary, with many visual references to the French Revolution to keep us going.
Anne Hathaway’s Catwoman, though not named as anyone other than Selina Kyle, was a credit to her character as well as the actress. Dark, sultry, seductive and agile, her feline credibly was intact, whilst still being a very human character. Her duplicity was bread from desperation rather than evil and her motives convincingly drive her in both good and more dubious endeavours.
*** MAJOR SPOILER***
The less said about Talia Al Ghul the better, but the for those aware of her role, it was well-played, though her final scene was the hammiest in the film, possibly the entire trilogy.
Then there’s the supporting cast, such as Mathew Modene, who does a great job as Dept. Commissioner Foley and Cillian Murphy’s back again, as the subtly unrecognisable Scarecrow, who besides some frayed shoulder’s on his jacket, could have been anyone,and that’s the beauty of Nolan’s Batman universe. It’s fluid and you can’t count on anything on anyone for too long.
But this franchise would be nothing without Hans Zimmer percussive score, pounding as much as it was gentle, it works well among with Nolan’s direction to craft the near perfect conclusion to the Trilogy. Both riff on earlier films and supe it up accordingly whilst maintaining the film’s integrity.
In the end, my expectations were met and exceeded. Nolan has crowned his trilogy with a film which is of the same calabar as the two which preceded it, filling in many of the blanks, choosing the right characters to take on and doing so a variety of ways, touching this time on the flamboyant Bain, though scrapping the “Venom” plot from the comics, creating an intriguing Catwoman and building another major character in the form of R. John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Lovett).
The ending of the film is just perfect, not only for this but for the entire Trilogy. With nods to Inception though I believe that it is just a nod and not as similar as some would protest, but this is epic in the way that The Dark Knight never tried to be and Batman Begins didn’t need to be. The threat is apocalyptic, in keeping with the genre, but believable in keeping with Nolan.
The same can be said for the action, though I must admit, the sentimentalist in me wanted to see the Batmoble/Tumber back, though it was there in triplicate, as Bane steels three prototype Tumbers from Wayne Enterprises, for his private army, but the Bat (Batwing) was stunning, and the Batpod made a reappearance. The Final showdown will leave you breathless, the perfect blend of direction, Zimmer’s score and some of the most intense and meaningful action you’ll see on the big screen.
The only real faults with The Dark Knight Rises stem from its scale and change in direction. It’s more about Batman’s evolution from crime fighter to savour. Less intense on a personal level, but much grander in its ideals and horror as Gotham is destroyed on scale never seen in a film of this type. But it’s not as far-fetched as one may think, as it grounds itself with historical references, such as the French Revolution, which was hardly far-fetched, though it was hard-hitting and is well translated here.
Bruce Wayne completes his journey from the boy who witnessed his parents murder, to a young man who could not grow beyond it, to a man who lost himself in a journey to understand the criminal mind. Finally returning as Batman, who defied his mentor to protect his beloved city, to a master detective. But here, he returns to his roots.
The billionaire who never cared about his wealth as much as he cared for the people of Gotham, he ends up exactly where he needed to be. Decide for yourself, whether it’s a happy ending, sad or satisfying, but either way, it was not only the best way to advance the saga, but the best way to end the series as a whole. Thanks to Nolan and his crew, we now have the most definitively brilliant Batman series EVER committed to celluloid, (or digital), and no matter what is to follow, whether it is to be the Justice League mash-up or another reboot, I suspect that it will be a long, long time before anyone can beat these.
With this much hype, would it possible live up to potentially bloated expectations? The first reviews hit last monday, with 4 to 5 stars being the consensus. Well, it did! The Dark Knight returns one last time, after eight years have passed since the events of The Dark Knight and Batman had retreated into the rebuilt Wayne Manor as Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), maintaining the lie that Harvey Dent was Gotham’s The White Knight, and not the maniacal Two-Face, had managed to clean up Gotham City.
Batman was no longer needed but in the meantime, Bane has arrived in the city with grand plans for its destruction. I won’t go much further into the plot that this, though I will probably write a more spoiler heavy review for the Blu-ray later in the year. But for now, I will try to maintain the film’s integrity.
When we first meet Bruce Wayne after almost a decade of seclusion, he is a broken man, both physically and mentally following the murder of his childhood sweetheart, Rachel Dawes in the previous film and the toll of nightly combat. So the first port of call is to bring Batman back to the streets of Gotham. The sense of excitement is palpable and very much a part of what makes Nolan’s films tick.
He draws his audience into the narrative as if we are part of the events and the universe as it unfolds, leaving us not just wanting Batman to return for the sake of the action but for Gotham’s sake as well. Bane, played so excellently by Tom Hardy, was a little difficult to understand from behind his mask, but still conveyed an enormous amount of presence and power, as he lays siege to the city but not as Terrorist per say, but as a freedom fighter or revolutionary, with many visual references to the French Revolution to keep us going.
Anne Hathaway’s Catwoman, though not named as anyone other than Selina Kyle, was a credit to her character as well as the actress. Dark, sultry, seductive and agile, her feline credibly was intact, whilst still being a very human character. Her duplicity was bread from desperation rather than evil and her motives convincingly drive her in both good and more dubious endeavours.
*** MAJOR SPOILER***
The less said about Talia Al Ghul the better, but the for those aware of her role, it was well-played, though her final scene was the hammiest in the film, possibly the entire trilogy.
Then there’s the supporting cast, such as Mathew Modene, who does a great job as Dept. Commissioner Foley and Cillian Murphy’s back again, as the subtly unrecognisable Scarecrow, who besides some frayed shoulder’s on his jacket, could have been anyone,and that’s the beauty of Nolan’s Batman universe. It’s fluid and you can’t count on anything on anyone for too long.
But this franchise would be nothing without Hans Zimmer percussive score, pounding as much as it was gentle, it works well among with Nolan’s direction to craft the near perfect conclusion to the Trilogy. Both riff on earlier films and supe it up accordingly whilst maintaining the film’s integrity.
In the end, my expectations were met and exceeded. Nolan has crowned his trilogy with a film which is of the same calabar as the two which preceded it, filling in many of the blanks, choosing the right characters to take on and doing so a variety of ways, touching this time on the flamboyant Bain, though scrapping the “Venom” plot from the comics, creating an intriguing Catwoman and building another major character in the form of R. John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Lovett).
The ending of the film is just perfect, not only for this but for the entire Trilogy. With nods to Inception though I believe that it is just a nod and not as similar as some would protest, but this is epic in the way that The Dark Knight never tried to be and Batman Begins didn’t need to be. The threat is apocalyptic, in keeping with the genre, but believable in keeping with Nolan.
The same can be said for the action, though I must admit, the sentimentalist in me wanted to see the Batmoble/Tumber back, though it was there in triplicate, as Bane steels three prototype Tumbers from Wayne Enterprises, for his private army, but the Bat (Batwing) was stunning, and the Batpod made a reappearance. The Final showdown will leave you breathless, the perfect blend of direction, Zimmer’s score and some of the most intense and meaningful action you’ll see on the big screen.
The only real faults with The Dark Knight Rises stem from its scale and change in direction. It’s more about Batman’s evolution from crime fighter to savour. Less intense on a personal level, but much grander in its ideals and horror as Gotham is destroyed on scale never seen in a film of this type. But it’s not as far-fetched as one may think, as it grounds itself with historical references, such as the French Revolution, which was hardly far-fetched, though it was hard-hitting and is well translated here.
Bruce Wayne completes his journey from the boy who witnessed his parents murder, to a young man who could not grow beyond it, to a man who lost himself in a journey to understand the criminal mind. Finally returning as Batman, who defied his mentor to protect his beloved city, to a master detective. But here, he returns to his roots.
The billionaire who never cared about his wealth as much as he cared for the people of Gotham, he ends up exactly where he needed to be. Decide for yourself, whether it’s a happy ending, sad or satisfying, but either way, it was not only the best way to advance the saga, but the best way to end the series as a whole. Thanks to Nolan and his crew, we now have the most definitively brilliant Batman series EVER committed to celluloid, (or digital), and no matter what is to follow, whether it is to be the Justice League mash-up or another reboot, I suspect that it will be a long, long time before anyone can beat these.
Ande Thomas (69 KP) rated The Time Traveler's Wife in Books
May 30, 2019
I've been thinking a lot about what I would write about <i>The Time Traveler's Wife,</i> partly because it seems one usually falls into one of two camps: Love it, hate it. It turns out, I belong to the latter. I won't bother with the sci-fi elements, the could he/couldn't he, the exploration of time travel as a plot device - I'm always willing to engage with a story as long as it follows it's own rules. My problems run deeper.
Spoilers abound.
<spoiler>
First, I'd be remiss not to at least acknowledge the creepy factor of a 40 year old naked man befriending a 6 year old girl. It's been discussed ad nauseum, but I've got to put my two cents in.
The whole experience reeks of grooming. Henry shows up, naked, in a young girl's life and (although true) casually explains that he's a <i>time traveler</i>. Her imagination is hooked. Her very own secret Magic Man. Over the following years, their friendship blossoms, and Henry refuses to tell her anything about the future. He is friendly, charming even, and always respectful. But he remains an enigma. Clare is pulled in by the mystery of the Magic Man. All she knows are the dates of his future arrivals. Until one day he begins to break his rule and tell her that they will be together. They'll get married and be in love and have a life. What changed? Why is he suddenly willing to tell her snippets of her future life? Puberty. She admits her desire to be with him and he basically says "keep waiting, it'll happen."
From that moment, her life has been decided - by Henry, and for Henry. Clare spends the entirety of her teenage existence (and beyond) waiting on Henry. The whole of her character arc is basically one big middle finger to the Bechdel test. Henry leads her by a leash with clues and vague promises of the future. We'll be together when you're older (we're destined). We'll have sex on your 18th birthday (wait for me). We'll meet in Chicago (move to Chicago). Even after his dying breath, he subtly slides direction her way. "I hope you move on, but by the way, I'll drop by when you're EIGHTY. But by all means...move on." Is it coincidence that Henry's time traveling mimics an emotionally abusive relationship? Clare tells us, "Henry is an artist of another sort, a disappearing artist. Our life together in this too-small apartment is punctuated by Henry’s small absences. Sometimes he disappears unobtrusively . . . Sometimes it’s frightening." Sure, you say, but he can't help it. He wants to be there for her. <i>It's just the way he is.</i> It's not even hinted at. Multiple people tell Clare <b>to her face</b> that Henry is bad news. But she won't hear it, because he spent her entire childhood molding her into his wife.
The author doesn't hide the allusion to Homer. Rather, she beats us over the head with it. And sure, it makes sense; Clare is the patiently waiting wife, Henry the distant traveler. Even Alba takes up her role as Telemachus, going on her own journeys in search of her father. But do we need both main characters referring to Henry by name, as Odysseus? We get it, girl. You want to write your own romantic Odyssey. Ease up.
Oh, and by the way - Clare's quote above? That's one of her first comments on married life. Her first thoughts after the wedding are "Why is my husband always gone? Why am I always afraid for him?" Henry's first thoughts? "How can Clare listen to Cheap Trick?" Let me remind you that this is the guy who's willing to rattle off a comprehensive list of early punk before jumping up to join in singing a Prince song, but he's upset that his wife listens to The Eagles instead of some obscure as hell French punk band. Also, this man who is thrilled to share musical tastes with a young teen with a mohawk then laments that the kid can't find his own music and has to take his? He preaches the meaning of punk before privately questioning why those kids want to be punk? Here's a guy who's entire life was shaped by music - both of his parents made livings playing music written before they were even born, yet he can't comprehend why two preteens could (or should) like The Clash, or why Clare would like The Beatles. <i>Stay in your own time,</i> he is essentially saying, <i>leave the time traveling to me.</i>
The guy doesn't even realize the pain he causes. Ingrid asks him "Why were you so mean to me?" "Was I," he says, "I didn't want to be." I know, I know. Everyone around her didn't want him to see her or speak to her. But need I remind you - dude time travels and frequently gives himself tips from the future. "Hey pal, take it easy on Ingrid," or "Bro, Ingrid is really shaken up, don't listen to her family or doctor, she needs some closure." But of course, nothing can really change, everything is the way it is.
This is all before I even begin to mention how much Niffenegger LOVES to name-drop. Of course there's the aforementioned punk band name-vomit, mentions of Henry's parents' work can't go by without naming a specific piece, despite adding nothing to the story or our understanding of the characters, there are two separate references to Claude Levi-Strauss (why?), and various other casual mentions of figures that seem to serve no purpose other than to prove that Henry is smart, and knows smart people things.
</spoiler>
I wanted to like this book more, I thought it had a fascinating premise and an interesting perspective. Obviously, I'm not a regular consumer of romance, and I realize that the problems I have with this book are problems shared by a large portion of the genre. But I am positive that we can have a love story that isn't mired by (at best) morally ambiguous relationships. I understand it was a different world when it was published, and that's not directly anyone's fault. Questions of consent and power and respect have been thrust into the spotlight in the short years since this book was published, but that's the lens with which I have to peer through. Stop glorifying these vapid, and frankly, abusive relationships as the paragon of romance. We're better than this. We need to be.
Spoilers abound.
<spoiler>
First, I'd be remiss not to at least acknowledge the creepy factor of a 40 year old naked man befriending a 6 year old girl. It's been discussed ad nauseum, but I've got to put my two cents in.
The whole experience reeks of grooming. Henry shows up, naked, in a young girl's life and (although true) casually explains that he's a <i>time traveler</i>. Her imagination is hooked. Her very own secret Magic Man. Over the following years, their friendship blossoms, and Henry refuses to tell her anything about the future. He is friendly, charming even, and always respectful. But he remains an enigma. Clare is pulled in by the mystery of the Magic Man. All she knows are the dates of his future arrivals. Until one day he begins to break his rule and tell her that they will be together. They'll get married and be in love and have a life. What changed? Why is he suddenly willing to tell her snippets of her future life? Puberty. She admits her desire to be with him and he basically says "keep waiting, it'll happen."
From that moment, her life has been decided - by Henry, and for Henry. Clare spends the entirety of her teenage existence (and beyond) waiting on Henry. The whole of her character arc is basically one big middle finger to the Bechdel test. Henry leads her by a leash with clues and vague promises of the future. We'll be together when you're older (we're destined). We'll have sex on your 18th birthday (wait for me). We'll meet in Chicago (move to Chicago). Even after his dying breath, he subtly slides direction her way. "I hope you move on, but by the way, I'll drop by when you're EIGHTY. But by all means...move on." Is it coincidence that Henry's time traveling mimics an emotionally abusive relationship? Clare tells us, "Henry is an artist of another sort, a disappearing artist. Our life together in this too-small apartment is punctuated by Henry’s small absences. Sometimes he disappears unobtrusively . . . Sometimes it’s frightening." Sure, you say, but he can't help it. He wants to be there for her. <i>It's just the way he is.</i> It's not even hinted at. Multiple people tell Clare <b>to her face</b> that Henry is bad news. But she won't hear it, because he spent her entire childhood molding her into his wife.
The author doesn't hide the allusion to Homer. Rather, she beats us over the head with it. And sure, it makes sense; Clare is the patiently waiting wife, Henry the distant traveler. Even Alba takes up her role as Telemachus, going on her own journeys in search of her father. But do we need both main characters referring to Henry by name, as Odysseus? We get it, girl. You want to write your own romantic Odyssey. Ease up.
Oh, and by the way - Clare's quote above? That's one of her first comments on married life. Her first thoughts after the wedding are "Why is my husband always gone? Why am I always afraid for him?" Henry's first thoughts? "How can Clare listen to Cheap Trick?" Let me remind you that this is the guy who's willing to rattle off a comprehensive list of early punk before jumping up to join in singing a Prince song, but he's upset that his wife listens to The Eagles instead of some obscure as hell French punk band. Also, this man who is thrilled to share musical tastes with a young teen with a mohawk then laments that the kid can't find his own music and has to take his? He preaches the meaning of punk before privately questioning why those kids want to be punk? Here's a guy who's entire life was shaped by music - both of his parents made livings playing music written before they were even born, yet he can't comprehend why two preteens could (or should) like The Clash, or why Clare would like The Beatles. <i>Stay in your own time,</i> he is essentially saying, <i>leave the time traveling to me.</i>
The guy doesn't even realize the pain he causes. Ingrid asks him "Why were you so mean to me?" "Was I," he says, "I didn't want to be." I know, I know. Everyone around her didn't want him to see her or speak to her. But need I remind you - dude time travels and frequently gives himself tips from the future. "Hey pal, take it easy on Ingrid," or "Bro, Ingrid is really shaken up, don't listen to her family or doctor, she needs some closure." But of course, nothing can really change, everything is the way it is.
This is all before I even begin to mention how much Niffenegger LOVES to name-drop. Of course there's the aforementioned punk band name-vomit, mentions of Henry's parents' work can't go by without naming a specific piece, despite adding nothing to the story or our understanding of the characters, there are two separate references to Claude Levi-Strauss (why?), and various other casual mentions of figures that seem to serve no purpose other than to prove that Henry is smart, and knows smart people things.
</spoiler>
I wanted to like this book more, I thought it had a fascinating premise and an interesting perspective. Obviously, I'm not a regular consumer of romance, and I realize that the problems I have with this book are problems shared by a large portion of the genre. But I am positive that we can have a love story that isn't mired by (at best) morally ambiguous relationships. I understand it was a different world when it was published, and that's not directly anyone's fault. Questions of consent and power and respect have been thrust into the spotlight in the short years since this book was published, but that's the lens with which I have to peer through. Stop glorifying these vapid, and frankly, abusive relationships as the paragon of romance. We're better than this. We need to be.
Emma @ The Movies (1786 KP) rated Ready or Not (2019) in Movies
Nov 5, 2019
Contains spoilers, click to show
I enjoyed this because it was basically bat shit crazy, but I also had some issues with it. The trailers looked great but going back to them now you see quite a lot of action from key points in the film. Because of the haphazard nature of everything I don't think it spoils anything but at the time I couldn't remember many of the trailers going in. The vibe I remembered getting from them was very much You're Next with a vague hint of Clue.
What stopped me in my tracks a little was what the film was trying to be. I thought it was going to be a homedy (yes I'm still trying to make my horror-comedy hybrid work), your traditional crazy horror with a comedic leaning... but what happened was a lot of drama, they were actually trying to be serious. Well, as serious as you can get when you're in the middle of hunting a bride on her wedding night. When mother and son sit to have a heart to heart I was actually taken out of the film for a moment as it wasn't in keeping with what else was happening.
Had this gone all the way over to crazy horror I would have given it a higher rating, they're fast paced and entertaining, the slight indecisiveness of what came to the screen really knocked it down for me. Even with the bizarre magic box tradition this film could have been something more serious but not by the time we get to that ending.
I'm really thankful that this game adaptation was at least better than Truth Or Dare. I don't think I could stand another stinker like that. The story is a nice easy one to get along with, family acquire a magic box that keeps them thriving and all they have to do is occasionally sacrifice someone that's loved deeply by one of the family... good old Satan bringing us a solid storyline.
Samara Weaving, or as I have to keep reminding myself "not Margot Robbie", plays our blushing bride, Grace. Boy does she throw a lot at this role, I like to think she got a lot of stress relief out of this as she fights back at her would be murderers. Thankfully Grace didn't end up in many of the drama-y bits so there was little to be annoyed about. Her magic moments included punching Georgie, swearing at the car and wailing like a banshee at the end like she'd gone feral. Bravo! But I think the best and worst bit was when she climbed out of hell, you knew what she was thinking, you knew she had no option and oh my god did I hurt in sympathy.
Adam Brody has to be the other stand out performance for me as the brother-in-law, Daniel Le Domas. We get a very small introduction to his character as a child but it really did help you to understand the way he is and why he reacts the way he does as they hunt Grace. The guilt he has from the first Hide & Seek he participated in is clearly part of the reason he's the son who's off the rails, but he keeps his protective nature from his childhood in adulthood towards his brother and Grace. He stops and talks with Grace during the hunt and you can see him switching allegiances as we get further through the story. Brody conveys this well and is actually the one character that you can sort of sympathise with. His death is the beginning of the end and it's an emotional moment that played out well on screen. I think he probably came out better not surviving to the end of the film.
There are lots of highs and lows with various characters throughout. Fitch is the "dumb" one and there was something magical about seeing him YouTubing how to use a crossbow and later asking Charity at what point they should cut and run.
Mark O'Brien as Alex Le Domas was probably my least favourite character. His scripting felt rather bland compared to some of the others... but mainly... what an arsehole! Just live in sin man! Why potentially doom her, I'm sure it wouldn't have been too hard to fall off the radar somehow. If he was already slightly estranged I can't see that going altogether would be much of a stretch.
Alex also gets what is possibly the most annoying part of the script, he's handcuffed to the bed and he starts using the chain as a saw to try to get through the ornamental bar... these aren't bit of Ikea furniture... in what universe is that going to work in this timeframe?! Stand up and throw your weight on it until it snaps! I was wondering if he was actually trying to break the handcuffs (an equally stupid idea), and do we actually see how he gets out of them? Now I've confused myself.
Anyway, this will become an epic if I don't move on.
I quite liked the way the film looked, once we got to the evening the whole set became a beautiful golden autumnal palette and it gave you a sense of wealth and history, but when you add in the blood and seeking you get a real sense of the hiding (that makes sense in my head). It did at times become dark, it was never so bad that you couldn't see what was happening but it allowed for the reintroduction of light at the end as the house burns behind her which was a nice touch.
The final sequence should probably get its own mention. Alex, obviously about to break after seeing his brother die and Grace bludgeoning his mother, is bizarrely confirming his fears that the pair will not be together after what has happened. He then turns on her so he can get back the only thing left in his life, his (now slightly smaller) family. I loved the slightly vampiric turn the scene took as they're exposed to the morning sun, I'm not sure I'd have recoiled from it quite so much but I appreciated the comedic value it added. The family's actual demise and Grace's ghost sighting are the reason this needed to be a homedy (Still no? Whatever.), there's no way that fits in with anything more serious. And I'm sorry but overall I didn't find it that funny, much like Last Blood I was reacting to the ridiculous violence.
I like to think that as the last bit of the house disintegrates in the fire and Grace is still sitting bleeding on the steps that a firefighter comes over with the seemingly untouched magic box and hands it to her because it looks like a family heirloom. She's a Le Domas now, and everything is hers...
Full review originally posted on: https://emmaatthemovies.blogspot.com/2019/11/ready-or-not-spoilers-movie-review.html
What stopped me in my tracks a little was what the film was trying to be. I thought it was going to be a homedy (yes I'm still trying to make my horror-comedy hybrid work), your traditional crazy horror with a comedic leaning... but what happened was a lot of drama, they were actually trying to be serious. Well, as serious as you can get when you're in the middle of hunting a bride on her wedding night. When mother and son sit to have a heart to heart I was actually taken out of the film for a moment as it wasn't in keeping with what else was happening.
Had this gone all the way over to crazy horror I would have given it a higher rating, they're fast paced and entertaining, the slight indecisiveness of what came to the screen really knocked it down for me. Even with the bizarre magic box tradition this film could have been something more serious but not by the time we get to that ending.
I'm really thankful that this game adaptation was at least better than Truth Or Dare. I don't think I could stand another stinker like that. The story is a nice easy one to get along with, family acquire a magic box that keeps them thriving and all they have to do is occasionally sacrifice someone that's loved deeply by one of the family... good old Satan bringing us a solid storyline.
Samara Weaving, or as I have to keep reminding myself "not Margot Robbie", plays our blushing bride, Grace. Boy does she throw a lot at this role, I like to think she got a lot of stress relief out of this as she fights back at her would be murderers. Thankfully Grace didn't end up in many of the drama-y bits so there was little to be annoyed about. Her magic moments included punching Georgie, swearing at the car and wailing like a banshee at the end like she'd gone feral. Bravo! But I think the best and worst bit was when she climbed out of hell, you knew what she was thinking, you knew she had no option and oh my god did I hurt in sympathy.
Adam Brody has to be the other stand out performance for me as the brother-in-law, Daniel Le Domas. We get a very small introduction to his character as a child but it really did help you to understand the way he is and why he reacts the way he does as they hunt Grace. The guilt he has from the first Hide & Seek he participated in is clearly part of the reason he's the son who's off the rails, but he keeps his protective nature from his childhood in adulthood towards his brother and Grace. He stops and talks with Grace during the hunt and you can see him switching allegiances as we get further through the story. Brody conveys this well and is actually the one character that you can sort of sympathise with. His death is the beginning of the end and it's an emotional moment that played out well on screen. I think he probably came out better not surviving to the end of the film.
There are lots of highs and lows with various characters throughout. Fitch is the "dumb" one and there was something magical about seeing him YouTubing how to use a crossbow and later asking Charity at what point they should cut and run.
Mark O'Brien as Alex Le Domas was probably my least favourite character. His scripting felt rather bland compared to some of the others... but mainly... what an arsehole! Just live in sin man! Why potentially doom her, I'm sure it wouldn't have been too hard to fall off the radar somehow. If he was already slightly estranged I can't see that going altogether would be much of a stretch.
Alex also gets what is possibly the most annoying part of the script, he's handcuffed to the bed and he starts using the chain as a saw to try to get through the ornamental bar... these aren't bit of Ikea furniture... in what universe is that going to work in this timeframe?! Stand up and throw your weight on it until it snaps! I was wondering if he was actually trying to break the handcuffs (an equally stupid idea), and do we actually see how he gets out of them? Now I've confused myself.
Anyway, this will become an epic if I don't move on.
I quite liked the way the film looked, once we got to the evening the whole set became a beautiful golden autumnal palette and it gave you a sense of wealth and history, but when you add in the blood and seeking you get a real sense of the hiding (that makes sense in my head). It did at times become dark, it was never so bad that you couldn't see what was happening but it allowed for the reintroduction of light at the end as the house burns behind her which was a nice touch.
The final sequence should probably get its own mention. Alex, obviously about to break after seeing his brother die and Grace bludgeoning his mother, is bizarrely confirming his fears that the pair will not be together after what has happened. He then turns on her so he can get back the only thing left in his life, his (now slightly smaller) family. I loved the slightly vampiric turn the scene took as they're exposed to the morning sun, I'm not sure I'd have recoiled from it quite so much but I appreciated the comedic value it added. The family's actual demise and Grace's ghost sighting are the reason this needed to be a homedy (Still no? Whatever.), there's no way that fits in with anything more serious. And I'm sorry but overall I didn't find it that funny, much like Last Blood I was reacting to the ridiculous violence.
I like to think that as the last bit of the house disintegrates in the fire and Grace is still sitting bleeding on the steps that a firefighter comes over with the seemingly untouched magic box and hands it to her because it looks like a family heirloom. She's a Le Domas now, and everything is hers...
Full review originally posted on: https://emmaatthemovies.blogspot.com/2019/11/ready-or-not-spoilers-movie-review.html
Purple Phoenix Games (2266 KP) rated Horrified: Universal Monsters Strategy Board Game in Tabletop Games
Aug 6, 2021
I was a child a long time ago. Okay, not THAT long ago, but I remember being frightened of a great many thing on TV: Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” music video, the TV show “V,” and so many others. I still to this day have not watched an entire old school Universal Studios Monster movie. However, I used to live in California for part of my childhood and my family had season passes to Universal Studios and we would go quite a lot, so I have always been familiar with the monsters. So when I saw a game was being crafted featuring these lovable, but in a nostalgic way, creatures I knew I just had to have it.
Horrified is a pickup and deliver, action points, cooperative game with dice and miniatures utilizing a variable setup. In it players take on the role of a hero in a monster movie – but not just A monster movie, but SEVERAL monsters will be haunting the town! It is the heroes’ goal to defeat the monsters before the Terror Marker reaches maximum or the heroes run out of time and the monsters take over the town.
To setup, place the board on the table and draw 12 Item tokens from the bag. Place these Items on the board in the specified location printed on the Item. Depending on how many players (for this review I will be using the Solo rules in the rule book) place the Terror Marker appropriately on the board – the photo above was taken before I realized that it starts on three in the Solo game. Choose the monsters to be faced and place their mats near the board. The rulebook states where the monster minis will start the game. Place the Frenzy token on the lowest Frenzy-numbered monster. Shuffle the Monster and Perk decks of cards separately and deal each player one Perk card. Each player chooses or is randomly dealt a character badge and places the standee in the appropriate location on the board. The game may now begin!
Players will be taking turns traveling the town, picking up Items, attempting to defeat the monsters per their defeat instructions on their mats, delivering villagers that randomly appear to their safe locations, and keeping the Terror Marker in the acceptable range. Each character has a certain number of actions that can be taken on their turns, but any Perk cards used are spent as a bonus action on the hero’s turn. The hero actions are: Move (one space along the lit pathways, even with a villager in tow), Guide (a villager one space away from the hero), Pick Up (Items from locations), Share (Items from player to player – not needed in a Solo game), Special Action (if the character being played has one on their badge), Advance (complete a task on the Monster mat to move one step closer to defeat), and Defeat (once all the tasks are complete and the player has enough Items to defeat the Monster at the same location). Once a hero has used up all their Action Points per their badge, it will be the Monster phase.
Monster phases begin with a draw from the Monster deck. Upon the card will be a number printed on the top which instructs players as to how many Items to draw and place from the bag. Next, players will read the text on the card and complete any instructions. Finally, the Monsters will strike. At the bottom of the card will be printed several icons pertaining to Monsters individually and also the Monster who happens to currently be Frenzied. These icons instruct players to move certain Monsters and if they share a space with a hero or villager, to roll the attack dice. One hit from a Monster defeats either a villager or hero (unless the hero discards any Item to block the attack). If a hero or villager is defeated, the Terror Marker moves up a space toward ultimate doom. Play then is passed to the players again. The game continues in this fashion until one of the game end conditions is met and the heroe(s) win or the Monsters succeed in their hostile haunted takeover.
Components. I’d like to start with the art. I love it. The art has a very 1930s Hollywood style and is simply beautiful. The colors are vibrant, where color is used, and the board is stunning. All of the cardboard components are top notch quality, and the Monster minis are fab. Obviously it would be great for all the heroes and villagers to have minis as well, but there is text printed on those standees that just can’t translate to a miniature. All in all, the components here are wonderful and high quality.
The gameplay is also wonderful and high quality. The solo game from which these photos are taken I randomly drew the Mayor character and decided to hit the town with Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and The Invisible Man. That’s a Standard game in the rules. The Mayor is great because she is able to take five actions on her turn (plus Perks), but she has no special abilities. That is both a blessing and a curse and wonderfully balanced. I would say I finished the game needing just one or two more Monster cards to draw before all three baddies were defeated. But, that’s the difficulty of having three Monsters showing. With just two Monsters I would have won handily, but maybe would not have enjoyed it as much and written it off as too easy. Luckily I always learn games on normal standard difficulty first.
Traipsing around town picking up Items and ushering villagers to their safe spaces sounds relaxing, but when the Monsters are on your trail and ready to Strike it adds a layer of anxiety that is just delicious. I admit I probably spent too much time trying to save every villager and that’s partly why I failed at this one game. Also I miscalculated how many extra Items to have on hand when attempting to Advance the Monster tasks. Couple those with my strategy to concentrate on defeating one Monster at a time and, well, that’s a losing strategy it seems.
The gameplay is so much fun, and the components are so wonderful to play with, it’s really no surprise I enjoy this game as much as I do. I have purposely left out some rules for readers to enjoy discovering themselves, but this is a tight game with pressure from different fronts to complete objectives. It’s the kind of game where even with a loss you find yourself wanting to try again right away. And that’s a sing of an excellent game. Purple Phoenix Games gives this very high ratings, even as a solo experience. If you need more horror-style adventure games in your collection, please check out Horrified. It’s not really that scary to play, but you will certainly be haunted by your choices you make throughout the game.
Horrified is a pickup and deliver, action points, cooperative game with dice and miniatures utilizing a variable setup. In it players take on the role of a hero in a monster movie – but not just A monster movie, but SEVERAL monsters will be haunting the town! It is the heroes’ goal to defeat the monsters before the Terror Marker reaches maximum or the heroes run out of time and the monsters take over the town.
To setup, place the board on the table and draw 12 Item tokens from the bag. Place these Items on the board in the specified location printed on the Item. Depending on how many players (for this review I will be using the Solo rules in the rule book) place the Terror Marker appropriately on the board – the photo above was taken before I realized that it starts on three in the Solo game. Choose the monsters to be faced and place their mats near the board. The rulebook states where the monster minis will start the game. Place the Frenzy token on the lowest Frenzy-numbered monster. Shuffle the Monster and Perk decks of cards separately and deal each player one Perk card. Each player chooses or is randomly dealt a character badge and places the standee in the appropriate location on the board. The game may now begin!
Players will be taking turns traveling the town, picking up Items, attempting to defeat the monsters per their defeat instructions on their mats, delivering villagers that randomly appear to their safe locations, and keeping the Terror Marker in the acceptable range. Each character has a certain number of actions that can be taken on their turns, but any Perk cards used are spent as a bonus action on the hero’s turn. The hero actions are: Move (one space along the lit pathways, even with a villager in tow), Guide (a villager one space away from the hero), Pick Up (Items from locations), Share (Items from player to player – not needed in a Solo game), Special Action (if the character being played has one on their badge), Advance (complete a task on the Monster mat to move one step closer to defeat), and Defeat (once all the tasks are complete and the player has enough Items to defeat the Monster at the same location). Once a hero has used up all their Action Points per their badge, it will be the Monster phase.
Monster phases begin with a draw from the Monster deck. Upon the card will be a number printed on the top which instructs players as to how many Items to draw and place from the bag. Next, players will read the text on the card and complete any instructions. Finally, the Monsters will strike. At the bottom of the card will be printed several icons pertaining to Monsters individually and also the Monster who happens to currently be Frenzied. These icons instruct players to move certain Monsters and if they share a space with a hero or villager, to roll the attack dice. One hit from a Monster defeats either a villager or hero (unless the hero discards any Item to block the attack). If a hero or villager is defeated, the Terror Marker moves up a space toward ultimate doom. Play then is passed to the players again. The game continues in this fashion until one of the game end conditions is met and the heroe(s) win or the Monsters succeed in their hostile haunted takeover.
Components. I’d like to start with the art. I love it. The art has a very 1930s Hollywood style and is simply beautiful. The colors are vibrant, where color is used, and the board is stunning. All of the cardboard components are top notch quality, and the Monster minis are fab. Obviously it would be great for all the heroes and villagers to have minis as well, but there is text printed on those standees that just can’t translate to a miniature. All in all, the components here are wonderful and high quality.
The gameplay is also wonderful and high quality. The solo game from which these photos are taken I randomly drew the Mayor character and decided to hit the town with Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and The Invisible Man. That’s a Standard game in the rules. The Mayor is great because she is able to take five actions on her turn (plus Perks), but she has no special abilities. That is both a blessing and a curse and wonderfully balanced. I would say I finished the game needing just one or two more Monster cards to draw before all three baddies were defeated. But, that’s the difficulty of having three Monsters showing. With just two Monsters I would have won handily, but maybe would not have enjoyed it as much and written it off as too easy. Luckily I always learn games on normal standard difficulty first.
Traipsing around town picking up Items and ushering villagers to their safe spaces sounds relaxing, but when the Monsters are on your trail and ready to Strike it adds a layer of anxiety that is just delicious. I admit I probably spent too much time trying to save every villager and that’s partly why I failed at this one game. Also I miscalculated how many extra Items to have on hand when attempting to Advance the Monster tasks. Couple those with my strategy to concentrate on defeating one Monster at a time and, well, that’s a losing strategy it seems.
The gameplay is so much fun, and the components are so wonderful to play with, it’s really no surprise I enjoy this game as much as I do. I have purposely left out some rules for readers to enjoy discovering themselves, but this is a tight game with pressure from different fronts to complete objectives. It’s the kind of game where even with a loss you find yourself wanting to try again right away. And that’s a sing of an excellent game. Purple Phoenix Games gives this very high ratings, even as a solo experience. If you need more horror-style adventure games in your collection, please check out Horrified. It’s not really that scary to play, but you will certainly be haunted by your choices you make throughout the game.
Movie Metropolis (309 KP) rated It: Chapter Two (2019) in Movies
Sep 13, 2019
Part of this post is sponsored by 4DX Cinemas. With poignancy and heart on its side, 2017’s IT managed to avoid its occasional flaws to become an unnerving addition to the horror genre. While the film could never be classed as outright terrifying, the character of Pennywise, portrayed exceptionally by Bill Skarsgard, is an unsettling antagonist and one of the best in film.
Two years later, the town of Derry is back on the big screen in Andy Muschietti’s epic conclusion. But at nearly 3 hours long, is IT: Chapter Two just a bloated mess, or does it float to new heights?
Defeated by members of the Losers’ Club, the evil clown Pennywise returns 27 years later to terrorise the town of Derry, Maine, once again. Now adults, the childhood friends have long since gone their separate ways. But when people start disappearing, Mike Hanlon (Isaiah Mustafa) calls the others home for one final stand. Damaged by scars from the past, the united Losers must conquer their deepest fears to destroy the shape-shifting Pennywise – who is now more powerful than ever.
The film follows many of the same tropes as its predecessor, with beautiful cinematography and excellent performances masking some shoddy CGI and an over-reliance on jump scares, and while it does lack the simplicity and tightly-wound script of its predecessor, IT: Chapter Two is even more unsettling.
For director Andy Muschietti, it’s clear that the training wheels are off. After being guided through the process by Warner Bros. first time around, the success of IT (it grossed over $700million worldwide) now means he’s been free to splash his creative vision all over the screen – and it shows. A deeply disconcerting opening involving two of Derry’s LGBT community and some town bigots lets the audience know early on that this is going to be even darker and much more graphic than its predecessor.
From a casting point of view, they couldn’t have done better. Each adult version of the Loser’s Club nicely embodies their child counterpart, even if we spend more time with some than others. James McAvoy is as reliable as ever and Jessica Chastain plays Beverly nicely but it’s in Bill Hader and James Ransome that we find the perfect embodiments of their juvenile characters.
Hader and Ransome share the same chemistry that made Eddie and Richie so watchable in the first instalment and there is even some well-judged poignancy to go with their playful teasing. The Chinese restaurant scene, a fan favourite from the book and the TV mini-series, is present and correct and remains a highlight over the course of the running time.
IT: Chapter Two is a confident finale to one of 2017’s best films; filled with exceptional performances
Praise must be given to the scriptwriters here as ensembles of this size can all too often get lost with little character development. Thankfully, each cast member feels fully fleshed out, meaning we care for them a lot more than your typical horror-movie character.
However, this is Bill Skarsgard’s film and Pennywise is as menacing as ever. Skarsgard turns up the ante here with his physical performance being absolutely incredible. This portrayal is Heath Ledger Joker levels of good. It would be a shame if he wasn’t recognised officially for the exceptional work he has done to bring this wretched character to life.
While much of the film sees the Loser’s Club separate from each other as they try to locate tokens from their pasts, this allows the production team to create some truly staggering set pieces – although it’s unfortunate that many of them have been spoilt in the trailers. The much-marketed house of mirrors scene is brief but leaves a lasting impression and there’s a sequence early on involving a small girl that was really troubling.
Unfortunately, it’s not all good news. While the pacing for such a long film is spot on, the appearances of our titular character are not. Despite being billed as appearing more often, the movie’s gargantuan length means that Pennywise doesn’t feel like he’s on screen for any longer than in the first instalment. With such a great character and performance, it would have been nice to see him a little more.
And while you’ll have noticed me using adjectives like ‘unsettling’ and ‘unnerving’, the film isn’t truly scary unless Pennywise in clown form is on the screen. That’s mainly down to some of the CGI used to create the monsters. As in its predecessor, IT: Chapter Two’s monsters feel too glossy, lacking in any true sense of realism.
Nevertheless, IT: Chapter Two is a confident finale to one of 2017’s best films; filled with exceptional performances and the wit and humour that made its predecessor such a hit. While not reaching quite the same dizzy heights as that film and relying even more on jump scares, as a pair, it’s hard to think of a horror series that has made its mark in the last decade quite as much as IT.
⭐⭐⭐⭐ IT: Chapter Two in 4DX
I was unsure how a horror film would translate to 4DX but the good news is that the experience became even more immersive, with sight, smell and feel all being utilised to great effect.
Soaring over Derry, the advanced seating that 4DX provides means that you feel like you’re flying over the town too. Of course, while this is a pleasant experience when the film is playing nicely, as soon as the horror hits, 4DX jolts you back to reality with some well-timed movement, strobe lighting and weather effects.
A nice touch in this film was the use of smell, something not utilised in Hobbs & Shaw. Every time Pennywise was about to appear on screen, a sweet aroma would fill the cinema, lulling you into a false sense of security. It was a nice effect that added to the drama of the film beautifully.
Naturally, being a horror film, rain was utilised a lot and having the spray nozzle behind your seat was great. Although you are able to turn it off if you so wish, having the weather effects left on meant that you became immersed in what was happening on screen.
This was my first experience of 4D cinema utilised in a horror film and the overall impact was one that added to the terror rather than detracted from it. I would highly recommend viewing IT: Chapter Two in 4DX, and you can book tickets at 19 Cineworld locations across the UK.
Two years later, the town of Derry is back on the big screen in Andy Muschietti’s epic conclusion. But at nearly 3 hours long, is IT: Chapter Two just a bloated mess, or does it float to new heights?
Defeated by members of the Losers’ Club, the evil clown Pennywise returns 27 years later to terrorise the town of Derry, Maine, once again. Now adults, the childhood friends have long since gone their separate ways. But when people start disappearing, Mike Hanlon (Isaiah Mustafa) calls the others home for one final stand. Damaged by scars from the past, the united Losers must conquer their deepest fears to destroy the shape-shifting Pennywise – who is now more powerful than ever.
The film follows many of the same tropes as its predecessor, with beautiful cinematography and excellent performances masking some shoddy CGI and an over-reliance on jump scares, and while it does lack the simplicity and tightly-wound script of its predecessor, IT: Chapter Two is even more unsettling.
For director Andy Muschietti, it’s clear that the training wheels are off. After being guided through the process by Warner Bros. first time around, the success of IT (it grossed over $700million worldwide) now means he’s been free to splash his creative vision all over the screen – and it shows. A deeply disconcerting opening involving two of Derry’s LGBT community and some town bigots lets the audience know early on that this is going to be even darker and much more graphic than its predecessor.
From a casting point of view, they couldn’t have done better. Each adult version of the Loser’s Club nicely embodies their child counterpart, even if we spend more time with some than others. James McAvoy is as reliable as ever and Jessica Chastain plays Beverly nicely but it’s in Bill Hader and James Ransome that we find the perfect embodiments of their juvenile characters.
Hader and Ransome share the same chemistry that made Eddie and Richie so watchable in the first instalment and there is even some well-judged poignancy to go with their playful teasing. The Chinese restaurant scene, a fan favourite from the book and the TV mini-series, is present and correct and remains a highlight over the course of the running time.
IT: Chapter Two is a confident finale to one of 2017’s best films; filled with exceptional performances
Praise must be given to the scriptwriters here as ensembles of this size can all too often get lost with little character development. Thankfully, each cast member feels fully fleshed out, meaning we care for them a lot more than your typical horror-movie character.
However, this is Bill Skarsgard’s film and Pennywise is as menacing as ever. Skarsgard turns up the ante here with his physical performance being absolutely incredible. This portrayal is Heath Ledger Joker levels of good. It would be a shame if he wasn’t recognised officially for the exceptional work he has done to bring this wretched character to life.
While much of the film sees the Loser’s Club separate from each other as they try to locate tokens from their pasts, this allows the production team to create some truly staggering set pieces – although it’s unfortunate that many of them have been spoilt in the trailers. The much-marketed house of mirrors scene is brief but leaves a lasting impression and there’s a sequence early on involving a small girl that was really troubling.
Unfortunately, it’s not all good news. While the pacing for such a long film is spot on, the appearances of our titular character are not. Despite being billed as appearing more often, the movie’s gargantuan length means that Pennywise doesn’t feel like he’s on screen for any longer than in the first instalment. With such a great character and performance, it would have been nice to see him a little more.
And while you’ll have noticed me using adjectives like ‘unsettling’ and ‘unnerving’, the film isn’t truly scary unless Pennywise in clown form is on the screen. That’s mainly down to some of the CGI used to create the monsters. As in its predecessor, IT: Chapter Two’s monsters feel too glossy, lacking in any true sense of realism.
Nevertheless, IT: Chapter Two is a confident finale to one of 2017’s best films; filled with exceptional performances and the wit and humour that made its predecessor such a hit. While not reaching quite the same dizzy heights as that film and relying even more on jump scares, as a pair, it’s hard to think of a horror series that has made its mark in the last decade quite as much as IT.
⭐⭐⭐⭐ IT: Chapter Two in 4DX
I was unsure how a horror film would translate to 4DX but the good news is that the experience became even more immersive, with sight, smell and feel all being utilised to great effect.
Soaring over Derry, the advanced seating that 4DX provides means that you feel like you’re flying over the town too. Of course, while this is a pleasant experience when the film is playing nicely, as soon as the horror hits, 4DX jolts you back to reality with some well-timed movement, strobe lighting and weather effects.
A nice touch in this film was the use of smell, something not utilised in Hobbs & Shaw. Every time Pennywise was about to appear on screen, a sweet aroma would fill the cinema, lulling you into a false sense of security. It was a nice effect that added to the drama of the film beautifully.
Naturally, being a horror film, rain was utilised a lot and having the spray nozzle behind your seat was great. Although you are able to turn it off if you so wish, having the weather effects left on meant that you became immersed in what was happening on screen.
This was my first experience of 4D cinema utilised in a horror film and the overall impact was one that added to the terror rather than detracted from it. I would highly recommend viewing IT: Chapter Two in 4DX, and you can book tickets at 19 Cineworld locations across the UK.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Roma (2018) in Movies
Sep 28, 2021
“Siempre estamos solas”
Alfonso Cuarón‘s “Roma” has been lauded with praise and award’s hype, and I must admit to have been a little bit snooty about it. A black-and-white Spanish language film with subtitles that – to be honest – looks a bit dreary: can it really be that good? Having now (finally) seen it on Netflix I can confirm that’s a big YES from my point of view. It’s a novelty of a glacially slow film that grips like a vice.
A primer on 70’s Mexican History.
This is a film about ordinary life set against tumultuous times. Set in the Colonia Roma district of Mexico City (if you were puzzled, as I was, where the title came from) it is an “Upstairs, Downstairs” tale of Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), a maid and nanny to a middle class family in the early 70’s.
There are two intertwined stories here: Cleo’s personal story and that of the family background in which she works.
Cleo has a pleasant enough life working as partners in crime in the household with Adela (Nancy García García). Life is about getting the work done (well, more of less), keeping the four children happy – to who she is devoted – and scraping enough by to spend her downtime with her martial arts boyfriend Ramón (José Manuel Guerrero Mendoza).
Meanwhile the lady of the house Senora Sofia (Marina de Tavira) has an affluent and cosseted lifestyle amid her loving family.
But times are about to change for all of the players, as events – not just the events of the ‘Mexican Dirty War’ of 1971 going on in the background – transpire to change all their lives forever.
A masterclass in framing.
It’s criminal that I wasn’t able to get to see this in the cinema. Since every frame of this movie is a masterpiece of detail. There is just so much going on that your eyes dart this way and that, and you could probably watch it five times and see more. Even the opening titles are mesmerising, as the cobbled floor becomes a screen and an airliner lazily flies across it.
Even major action sequences, that other directors would fill the screen with (“Do you KNOW how much this scene is costing for God’s sake??”), are seen as they would typically be seen in real life – second hand, from a place of hiding. This is typified by the depiction of the Corpus Christi Massacre of June ’71, where the military, and more controversially the elite El Halconazo (The Hawks) of the Mexican army, turned on a student protest. Most of the action is seen as glimpses through the windows by the characters during a shopping trip to the second floor of a department store. How this was enacted and directed is a mystery to me, but it works just brilliantly.
A masterclass in pacing and panning.
One of Cuarón’s trademarks is the long take (think “Children of Men”) and here he (literally!) goes to town with the technique. An incredibly impressive scene has Cleo and Adela running through the streets of the City to meet their lovers at the cinema. It’s a continuous pan that again defies belief in the brilliance of its execution.
Even the mundane act of Cleo tidying up the apartment is done with a glorious slow pan around the room. Some of this panning is done to set the mood for the film (“Get settled in… this is going to be a long haul”) but others manage to evoke a sense of rising dread, an example at the beach being a brilliant case in point.
The cinematography was supposed to have been done by the great Emmanuel Lubezki, but he was unavailable so Cuarón did it himself! And it’s quite brilliant. So, that’s a lesson learned then that will reduce the budget for next time!
A personal story.
Cuarón wrote the script. Of course he did… it’s his story! He’s the same age as I am, so was nine years old for the autobiographical events featured in the film (he is the kid who gets punished for eavesdropping). Numerous aspects of the film are from his own childhood, including the fact that his younger brother kept spookily coming out with things that he’d done in his past lives! It’s a painful true story of his upbringing and of the life of Liboria Rodríguez: “Libo” to whom the film is dedicated.
Where the script is delightful is in never destroying the mood with lengthy exposition. Both of the key stories evolve slowly and only gradually do you work out what’s really going on. This is grown-up cinema at its finest.
It’s also a love letter from Cuarón to the cinema of his youth, a passion that sparked his eventual career. We see a number of trips to the local fleapit, and in one cute scene we seen a clip from the Gregory Peck space epic “Marooned”: the film that inspired Cuarón’s own masterpiece “Gravity“.
A naturalistic cast.
Casting a large proportion of the cast from unknowns feels like a great risk, but its a risk that pays off handsomely, particularly in the case of Yalitza Aparicio, who is breathtakingly naturalistic. Cuarón withheld the script from his cast, so some of the “acting” is not acting at all – specifically a gruelling and heartrending scene featuring Cleo later in the film. That’s real and raw emotion on the screen.
Marina de Tavira, although an actress with a track record, is also mightily impressive as the beleaguered and troubled wife.
Final Thoughts.
This is a masterpiece, and thoroughly deserves the “Best Picture” awards it has been getting. It’s certainly my odds on favourite, as well as being my pick, for the Oscar on Sunday. Will it be for everyone? Probably not.
There are some scenes which feel slightly ostentatious. A forest fire scene is brilliantly done (“Put out the small fires kids”), but then a guy in a monster suit pulls off his head-wear and starts singing a long and mournful song. Sorry?
There will also be many I suspect who will find the leisurely pace of the film excruciating; “JUST GET ON WITH IT” I hear them yelling at the screen. But if you give it the time and let it soak in, then you WILL be moved and you WILL remember the film long after you’ve seen it.
I remain cross however that this was released through Netflix. This is a film that deserves a full and widespread cinema release in 70mm format. It’s like taking an iPhone snap of the Mona Lisa and putting the phone on display instead.
A primer on 70’s Mexican History.
This is a film about ordinary life set against tumultuous times. Set in the Colonia Roma district of Mexico City (if you were puzzled, as I was, where the title came from) it is an “Upstairs, Downstairs” tale of Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), a maid and nanny to a middle class family in the early 70’s.
There are two intertwined stories here: Cleo’s personal story and that of the family background in which she works.
Cleo has a pleasant enough life working as partners in crime in the household with Adela (Nancy García García). Life is about getting the work done (well, more of less), keeping the four children happy – to who she is devoted – and scraping enough by to spend her downtime with her martial arts boyfriend Ramón (José Manuel Guerrero Mendoza).
Meanwhile the lady of the house Senora Sofia (Marina de Tavira) has an affluent and cosseted lifestyle amid her loving family.
But times are about to change for all of the players, as events – not just the events of the ‘Mexican Dirty War’ of 1971 going on in the background – transpire to change all their lives forever.
A masterclass in framing.
It’s criminal that I wasn’t able to get to see this in the cinema. Since every frame of this movie is a masterpiece of detail. There is just so much going on that your eyes dart this way and that, and you could probably watch it five times and see more. Even the opening titles are mesmerising, as the cobbled floor becomes a screen and an airliner lazily flies across it.
Even major action sequences, that other directors would fill the screen with (“Do you KNOW how much this scene is costing for God’s sake??”), are seen as they would typically be seen in real life – second hand, from a place of hiding. This is typified by the depiction of the Corpus Christi Massacre of June ’71, where the military, and more controversially the elite El Halconazo (The Hawks) of the Mexican army, turned on a student protest. Most of the action is seen as glimpses through the windows by the characters during a shopping trip to the second floor of a department store. How this was enacted and directed is a mystery to me, but it works just brilliantly.
A masterclass in pacing and panning.
One of Cuarón’s trademarks is the long take (think “Children of Men”) and here he (literally!) goes to town with the technique. An incredibly impressive scene has Cleo and Adela running through the streets of the City to meet their lovers at the cinema. It’s a continuous pan that again defies belief in the brilliance of its execution.
Even the mundane act of Cleo tidying up the apartment is done with a glorious slow pan around the room. Some of this panning is done to set the mood for the film (“Get settled in… this is going to be a long haul”) but others manage to evoke a sense of rising dread, an example at the beach being a brilliant case in point.
The cinematography was supposed to have been done by the great Emmanuel Lubezki, but he was unavailable so Cuarón did it himself! And it’s quite brilliant. So, that’s a lesson learned then that will reduce the budget for next time!
A personal story.
Cuarón wrote the script. Of course he did… it’s his story! He’s the same age as I am, so was nine years old for the autobiographical events featured in the film (he is the kid who gets punished for eavesdropping). Numerous aspects of the film are from his own childhood, including the fact that his younger brother kept spookily coming out with things that he’d done in his past lives! It’s a painful true story of his upbringing and of the life of Liboria Rodríguez: “Libo” to whom the film is dedicated.
Where the script is delightful is in never destroying the mood with lengthy exposition. Both of the key stories evolve slowly and only gradually do you work out what’s really going on. This is grown-up cinema at its finest.
It’s also a love letter from Cuarón to the cinema of his youth, a passion that sparked his eventual career. We see a number of trips to the local fleapit, and in one cute scene we seen a clip from the Gregory Peck space epic “Marooned”: the film that inspired Cuarón’s own masterpiece “Gravity“.
A naturalistic cast.
Casting a large proportion of the cast from unknowns feels like a great risk, but its a risk that pays off handsomely, particularly in the case of Yalitza Aparicio, who is breathtakingly naturalistic. Cuarón withheld the script from his cast, so some of the “acting” is not acting at all – specifically a gruelling and heartrending scene featuring Cleo later in the film. That’s real and raw emotion on the screen.
Marina de Tavira, although an actress with a track record, is also mightily impressive as the beleaguered and troubled wife.
Final Thoughts.
This is a masterpiece, and thoroughly deserves the “Best Picture” awards it has been getting. It’s certainly my odds on favourite, as well as being my pick, for the Oscar on Sunday. Will it be for everyone? Probably not.
There are some scenes which feel slightly ostentatious. A forest fire scene is brilliantly done (“Put out the small fires kids”), but then a guy in a monster suit pulls off his head-wear and starts singing a long and mournful song. Sorry?
There will also be many I suspect who will find the leisurely pace of the film excruciating; “JUST GET ON WITH IT” I hear them yelling at the screen. But if you give it the time and let it soak in, then you WILL be moved and you WILL remember the film long after you’ve seen it.
I remain cross however that this was released through Netflix. This is a film that deserves a full and widespread cinema release in 70mm format. It’s like taking an iPhone snap of the Mona Lisa and putting the phone on display instead.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated First Man (2018) in Movies
Sep 28, 2021
He captured a feeling. Sky with no ceiling.
A memorable event
I am a child of the 60’s, born in 1961. The “Space Race” for me was not some historical concept but a pervasive backdrop to my childhood. I still recall, at the age of 8, being marched into my junior school’s assembly hall. We all peered at the grainy black-and-white pictures of Neil Armstrong as he spoke his famously fluffed line before stepping onto the lunar surface. The event happened at 3:54am UK time, so clearly my recollection of “seeing it live” is bogus. (I read that the BBC stayed on air until 10:30 in the morning, so it was probably a ‘final review’ of the night’s events I saw). It is probably lodged in my memory less for the historical event and more due to the fact that there was TELEVISION ON IN THE MORNING! (Kids, ask your grandparents!)
A very personal connection. My personal copy of Waddington’s “Blast Off” board game, briefly shown in the film.
The plot
But back to Damien Chazelle‘s film. We start early in the 60’s with America getting well and truly kicked up the proberbial by the Russians in the space race: they fail to get the first man in space; they fail to carry out the first spacewalk. So the Americans, following the famous JFK speech, set their sights on the moon. It’s the equivalent of making a mess of cutting your toenails but then deciding to have a go at brain surgery. NASA develop the Gemini programme to practice the essential docking manoevers required as a precursor for the seemingly impossible (‘two blackboard’) mission that is Apollo.
But the price paid for such ambition is high.
Ryan Gosling plays Neil Armstrong as a dedicated, prickly, professional; altogether not a terribly likeable individual. Claire Foy plays his long-suffering wife Janet, putting her support for her husband’s dangerous profession ahead of her natural fears of becoming a single mother.
Review
There is obviously little tension to be mined from a film that has such a well-known historical context. Those with even a subliminal knowledge of the subject will be aware of the key triumphs and tragedies along the way. The script (by Josh Singer, “The Post“; “Spotlight“) is very well done in developing a creeping dread of knowing what is shortly to come.
Even with these inherent spoilers, Chazelle still manages to evoke armrest-squeezing tension into the space flight sequences. A lot of this is achieved through disorientating camera movements and flashing images that may irritate some but I found to be highly effective. (Did anyone else flash back to that excellent “Mission Space” ride at Epcot during the launch sequences?) This hand-held cinematography by Linus Sandgren (Chazelle’s “La La Land” collaborator) is matched by some utterly drop-dead gorgeous shots – beautifully framed; beautifully lit – that would be worthy of a Kaminski/Spielberg collaboration.
Those expecting a rollercoaster thrill-ride of the likes of “Apollo 13” will be disappointed. The film has more of the slow-and-long-burn feeling of “The Right Stuff” in mood and, at 141 minutes, some might even find it quite boring. There is significant time, for example, spent within the family home. These scenes include turbulent events of which I wasn’t previously aware: events that form the cornerstone of the film’s drama. For me, the balance of the personal and the historical background was perfectly done. I found it curious though that with such a family-oriented drama Chazelle chose to ditch completely any cuts away to the earthbound onlookers during the tense lunar landing sequence. (Compare and contrast with Ron Howard‘s masterly inter-cutting in the re-entry scene of “Apollo 13”). With the outcome foretold, perhaps such tension building was considered unnecessary? I’m not suggesting it was wrong to ‘stay in the moment’ with the astronauts, but it’s a bold directorial move.
Overall, the foolhardiness of NASA trying to do what they did with the 60’s technology at their disposal is well-portrayed. If you’ve been lucky enough, as I have, to view the Apollo 11 capsule in the National Air and Space museum in Washington you can’t help but be impressed by the bravery of Armstong, Aldrin and Collins in getting in that bucket of bolts and putting their lives on the line. True American heroes.
On that topic, the “flag issue” has generated much self-righteous heat within the US media; that is regarding Chazelle not showing the American flag being planted. This seems fatuous to me. Not only is the flag shown on the moon, but the film ably demonstrates the American know-how and bravery behind the mission. If Clint Eastwood had been directing he would have probably gone there: but for me it certainly didn’t need any further patriotism rubbed in the viewer’s face.
The turns
Are Oscar nominations on the cards for Ryan Gosling and Claire Foy? For me, it would be staggering if they are not: this film has “Oscar nomination” written all over it. I’d also certainly not bet against Foy winning for Best Actress: her portrayal of a wife on the edge is nothing short of brilliant. And perhaps, just perhaps, this might be Gosling’s year too.
Elsewhere there are strong supporting performances from Kyle Chandler (as Deke Slayton), Corey Stoll (as the ‘tell it how it is’ Buzz Aldrin) and Jason Clarke (as Ed White). It’s also great to see Belfast-born Ciarán Hinds in another mainstream Hollywood release.
For me, another dead cert Oscar nomination will be Justin Hurwitz for the score which is breathtakingly brilliant, not just in its compelling themes but also in its orchestration: the use of the eerie theremin and melodic harp are just brilliant together. I haven’t heard a score this year that’s more fitting to the visuals: although it’s early in the Oscar season to be calling it, I’d be very surprised if this didn’t walk away with the statuette.
Summary
Loved this. Damien Chazelle – with “Whiplash“, “La La Land” and now “First Man” – has hit all of three out of the park in my book. It’s not really a film for thrill-seekers, who might get bored, but anyone, like me, with an interest in the history of space exploration will I think lap it up: for this was surely the most memorable decade in space history… so far.
On leaving the cinema I looked up at the rising moon and marvelled once more at the audacity of man. My eyes then drifted across to the red dot that was Mars. How long I wonder? And how many dramatic film biographies still to come?
I am a child of the 60’s, born in 1961. The “Space Race” for me was not some historical concept but a pervasive backdrop to my childhood. I still recall, at the age of 8, being marched into my junior school’s assembly hall. We all peered at the grainy black-and-white pictures of Neil Armstrong as he spoke his famously fluffed line before stepping onto the lunar surface. The event happened at 3:54am UK time, so clearly my recollection of “seeing it live” is bogus. (I read that the BBC stayed on air until 10:30 in the morning, so it was probably a ‘final review’ of the night’s events I saw). It is probably lodged in my memory less for the historical event and more due to the fact that there was TELEVISION ON IN THE MORNING! (Kids, ask your grandparents!)
A very personal connection. My personal copy of Waddington’s “Blast Off” board game, briefly shown in the film.
The plot
But back to Damien Chazelle‘s film. We start early in the 60’s with America getting well and truly kicked up the proberbial by the Russians in the space race: they fail to get the first man in space; they fail to carry out the first spacewalk. So the Americans, following the famous JFK speech, set their sights on the moon. It’s the equivalent of making a mess of cutting your toenails but then deciding to have a go at brain surgery. NASA develop the Gemini programme to practice the essential docking manoevers required as a precursor for the seemingly impossible (‘two blackboard’) mission that is Apollo.
But the price paid for such ambition is high.
Ryan Gosling plays Neil Armstrong as a dedicated, prickly, professional; altogether not a terribly likeable individual. Claire Foy plays his long-suffering wife Janet, putting her support for her husband’s dangerous profession ahead of her natural fears of becoming a single mother.
Review
There is obviously little tension to be mined from a film that has such a well-known historical context. Those with even a subliminal knowledge of the subject will be aware of the key triumphs and tragedies along the way. The script (by Josh Singer, “The Post“; “Spotlight“) is very well done in developing a creeping dread of knowing what is shortly to come.
Even with these inherent spoilers, Chazelle still manages to evoke armrest-squeezing tension into the space flight sequences. A lot of this is achieved through disorientating camera movements and flashing images that may irritate some but I found to be highly effective. (Did anyone else flash back to that excellent “Mission Space” ride at Epcot during the launch sequences?) This hand-held cinematography by Linus Sandgren (Chazelle’s “La La Land” collaborator) is matched by some utterly drop-dead gorgeous shots – beautifully framed; beautifully lit – that would be worthy of a Kaminski/Spielberg collaboration.
Those expecting a rollercoaster thrill-ride of the likes of “Apollo 13” will be disappointed. The film has more of the slow-and-long-burn feeling of “The Right Stuff” in mood and, at 141 minutes, some might even find it quite boring. There is significant time, for example, spent within the family home. These scenes include turbulent events of which I wasn’t previously aware: events that form the cornerstone of the film’s drama. For me, the balance of the personal and the historical background was perfectly done. I found it curious though that with such a family-oriented drama Chazelle chose to ditch completely any cuts away to the earthbound onlookers during the tense lunar landing sequence. (Compare and contrast with Ron Howard‘s masterly inter-cutting in the re-entry scene of “Apollo 13”). With the outcome foretold, perhaps such tension building was considered unnecessary? I’m not suggesting it was wrong to ‘stay in the moment’ with the astronauts, but it’s a bold directorial move.
Overall, the foolhardiness of NASA trying to do what they did with the 60’s technology at their disposal is well-portrayed. If you’ve been lucky enough, as I have, to view the Apollo 11 capsule in the National Air and Space museum in Washington you can’t help but be impressed by the bravery of Armstong, Aldrin and Collins in getting in that bucket of bolts and putting their lives on the line. True American heroes.
On that topic, the “flag issue” has generated much self-righteous heat within the US media; that is regarding Chazelle not showing the American flag being planted. This seems fatuous to me. Not only is the flag shown on the moon, but the film ably demonstrates the American know-how and bravery behind the mission. If Clint Eastwood had been directing he would have probably gone there: but for me it certainly didn’t need any further patriotism rubbed in the viewer’s face.
The turns
Are Oscar nominations on the cards for Ryan Gosling and Claire Foy? For me, it would be staggering if they are not: this film has “Oscar nomination” written all over it. I’d also certainly not bet against Foy winning for Best Actress: her portrayal of a wife on the edge is nothing short of brilliant. And perhaps, just perhaps, this might be Gosling’s year too.
Elsewhere there are strong supporting performances from Kyle Chandler (as Deke Slayton), Corey Stoll (as the ‘tell it how it is’ Buzz Aldrin) and Jason Clarke (as Ed White). It’s also great to see Belfast-born Ciarán Hinds in another mainstream Hollywood release.
For me, another dead cert Oscar nomination will be Justin Hurwitz for the score which is breathtakingly brilliant, not just in its compelling themes but also in its orchestration: the use of the eerie theremin and melodic harp are just brilliant together. I haven’t heard a score this year that’s more fitting to the visuals: although it’s early in the Oscar season to be calling it, I’d be very surprised if this didn’t walk away with the statuette.
Summary
Loved this. Damien Chazelle – with “Whiplash“, “La La Land” and now “First Man” – has hit all of three out of the park in my book. It’s not really a film for thrill-seekers, who might get bored, but anyone, like me, with an interest in the history of space exploration will I think lap it up: for this was surely the most memorable decade in space history… so far.
On leaving the cinema I looked up at the rising moon and marvelled once more at the audacity of man. My eyes then drifted across to the red dot that was Mars. How long I wonder? And how many dramatic film biographies still to come?
Purple Phoenix Games (2266 KP) rated Cthulhu's Vault in Tabletop Games
Nov 9, 2021
As a kid, one thing my siblings and I used to do was play a storytelling game in which we created a (usually) hilarious story, one word at a time. You know the kind. One person starts the sentence with a single word, the next person in line adds a word, and so on, resulting in some ridiculous storyline that ultimately makes little overall sense. So when I heard about Cthulhu’s Vault, a game with a storytelling aspect, I was keen to try it! Even though the subject matter is obviously a little darker, does the overall game live up to my childhood memories of creating stories?
Cthulhu’s Vault is a card game in which players are working together to craft an occult story, which will ultimately lead to a final battle with one of the Ancient Ones. To setup the game, each player receives an Ancient One card (kept face-down), 7 Story cards, and 2 Power tokens (one Investigator and one Cultist). Power tokens are kept face-down and are secret from other players. The remaining Power tokens are placed into two pools – either face-up or face-down as described in the rules – and a starting Story card is drawn and placed in the middle of the play area. The Power Guide card is placed off to the side, visible to players, and shows the amount of Cultist Power necessary to awaken your Ancient One during play. Select a starting player, and the game is ready to begin!
The game is broken down into two phases: the Mystery Stage and the Epic Battle Stage. The Mystery Stage begins the game, and consists of the storytelling element. On your turn, you will select a Story card from your hand and play it to the table. Here’s the catch – all players are trying to create a cohesive storyline, so you are encouraged to narrate and chain together a single story with the addition of each new Story card. After you play your Story card and tell your brief addition to the tale, you will collect a number of Power tokens as described on your played Story card, receiving Bonus tokens if applicable. The Mystery Stage continues in this fashion until a player has acquired the requisite number of Cultist Power tokens necessary to awaken their Ancient One. At the start of that turn, the player will reveal their Ancient One, and the Mystery Stage ends immediately.
Moving on to the Epic Battle Stage, there is a small bit of setup. All remaining Story cards are discarded, and Investigator cards are displayed. The player who awoke their Ancient One collects a number of Power tokens equal to the health of their creature, gathers/shuffles the Ancient One Combat Deck, and draws a hand of 3 Combat cards. All remaining players will select an Investigator to play, in order, depending on the total number of Investigator Power tokens gained during the Mystery Stage. Players will discard down to/collect a number of Power tokens to match the health of their Investigator, shuffle the Investigator Combat Deck, and draw a number of cards as dictated by their Investigator card. A Battle Order deck is created and shuffled, and will dictate the order of actions during each Epic Battle turn. The Epic Battle Stage is now ready to begin.
During the Epic Battle, a card from the Battle Order deck is revealed – either an Investigator or the Ancient One. The corresponding player will then act, playing a card from their hand, performing the action (usually Wounding the opponent), and then drawing back up to their hand limit. Play continues in this way until either the Ancient One is defeated (all Health depleted), or all the Investigators are devoured by the Ancient One. If the Ancient One is defeated, the Investigators have won! And if the Ancient One has eliminated all the Investigators, then that player wins. Either way, whomever wins is encouraged to come up with a brief epilogue to bring the overall story to an end.
So all in all, how does Cthulhu’s Vault fare? Honestly, not too great. Let’s start with the rulebook. It has some areas of serious ambiguity and confusion, which made this game kind of tough and frustrating for me to learn at first. Now that I think I’ve got it figured out, it’s ok, but that first read-through was rough. Now getting down to the actual gameplay. I can appreciate what the game is trying to do – have players create a story and then engage in their narrated battle – but the two phases of the game seem very disjointed to me. It kind of feels like you are playing 2 separate games in one. You get to have some creative fun making up a spooky story, which is then swiftly forgotten as combat ensues. There is little to no connection between the two phases, and that lack of connection makes the storytelling phase seem obsolete.
Another thing to consider when checking this game out is the group of people with whom you will play. To really get a fun, immersive story going, all players need to be willing to embrace the storytelling aspect, and get into the narrative. Requiring that type of creativity on the spot can make some players uncomfortable, and they just might not enjoy that element of the game. Let’s touch on components for a minute. I think that for the most part, the production quality is fine! The Story, Investigator, and Ancient One cards are all oversized, sturdy, and feature some neat spooky art and flavor text. The Combat cards are normal sized, and for the most part clear in their text/actions. The Power tokens are small wooden discs, and are fun to play with. The version I have is in a tin, not a cardboard box, and the tin is nice and sturdy too. Overall, good quality game.
In theory, I think Cthulhu’s Vault is a neat game. The actual execution of the gameplay doesn’t quite hit the mark for me though. The lack of connection between the two phases of the game really detracts from the overall immersion. If there were a stronger connection, perhaps I would like it more, but as it stands, it just feels like 2 separate games in one box. If you’re into storytelling games, I would consider Cthulhu’s Vault because it does provide a neat opportunity for players to craft a unified story. But the shift to the combat phase feels sudden and unrelated. Purple Phoenix Games gives this one a fiendish 5 / 12.
Cthulhu’s Vault is a card game in which players are working together to craft an occult story, which will ultimately lead to a final battle with one of the Ancient Ones. To setup the game, each player receives an Ancient One card (kept face-down), 7 Story cards, and 2 Power tokens (one Investigator and one Cultist). Power tokens are kept face-down and are secret from other players. The remaining Power tokens are placed into two pools – either face-up or face-down as described in the rules – and a starting Story card is drawn and placed in the middle of the play area. The Power Guide card is placed off to the side, visible to players, and shows the amount of Cultist Power necessary to awaken your Ancient One during play. Select a starting player, and the game is ready to begin!
The game is broken down into two phases: the Mystery Stage and the Epic Battle Stage. The Mystery Stage begins the game, and consists of the storytelling element. On your turn, you will select a Story card from your hand and play it to the table. Here’s the catch – all players are trying to create a cohesive storyline, so you are encouraged to narrate and chain together a single story with the addition of each new Story card. After you play your Story card and tell your brief addition to the tale, you will collect a number of Power tokens as described on your played Story card, receiving Bonus tokens if applicable. The Mystery Stage continues in this fashion until a player has acquired the requisite number of Cultist Power tokens necessary to awaken their Ancient One. At the start of that turn, the player will reveal their Ancient One, and the Mystery Stage ends immediately.
Moving on to the Epic Battle Stage, there is a small bit of setup. All remaining Story cards are discarded, and Investigator cards are displayed. The player who awoke their Ancient One collects a number of Power tokens equal to the health of their creature, gathers/shuffles the Ancient One Combat Deck, and draws a hand of 3 Combat cards. All remaining players will select an Investigator to play, in order, depending on the total number of Investigator Power tokens gained during the Mystery Stage. Players will discard down to/collect a number of Power tokens to match the health of their Investigator, shuffle the Investigator Combat Deck, and draw a number of cards as dictated by their Investigator card. A Battle Order deck is created and shuffled, and will dictate the order of actions during each Epic Battle turn. The Epic Battle Stage is now ready to begin.
During the Epic Battle, a card from the Battle Order deck is revealed – either an Investigator or the Ancient One. The corresponding player will then act, playing a card from their hand, performing the action (usually Wounding the opponent), and then drawing back up to their hand limit. Play continues in this way until either the Ancient One is defeated (all Health depleted), or all the Investigators are devoured by the Ancient One. If the Ancient One is defeated, the Investigators have won! And if the Ancient One has eliminated all the Investigators, then that player wins. Either way, whomever wins is encouraged to come up with a brief epilogue to bring the overall story to an end.
So all in all, how does Cthulhu’s Vault fare? Honestly, not too great. Let’s start with the rulebook. It has some areas of serious ambiguity and confusion, which made this game kind of tough and frustrating for me to learn at first. Now that I think I’ve got it figured out, it’s ok, but that first read-through was rough. Now getting down to the actual gameplay. I can appreciate what the game is trying to do – have players create a story and then engage in their narrated battle – but the two phases of the game seem very disjointed to me. It kind of feels like you are playing 2 separate games in one. You get to have some creative fun making up a spooky story, which is then swiftly forgotten as combat ensues. There is little to no connection between the two phases, and that lack of connection makes the storytelling phase seem obsolete.
Another thing to consider when checking this game out is the group of people with whom you will play. To really get a fun, immersive story going, all players need to be willing to embrace the storytelling aspect, and get into the narrative. Requiring that type of creativity on the spot can make some players uncomfortable, and they just might not enjoy that element of the game. Let’s touch on components for a minute. I think that for the most part, the production quality is fine! The Story, Investigator, and Ancient One cards are all oversized, sturdy, and feature some neat spooky art and flavor text. The Combat cards are normal sized, and for the most part clear in their text/actions. The Power tokens are small wooden discs, and are fun to play with. The version I have is in a tin, not a cardboard box, and the tin is nice and sturdy too. Overall, good quality game.
In theory, I think Cthulhu’s Vault is a neat game. The actual execution of the gameplay doesn’t quite hit the mark for me though. The lack of connection between the two phases of the game really detracts from the overall immersion. If there were a stronger connection, perhaps I would like it more, but as it stands, it just feels like 2 separate games in one box. If you’re into storytelling games, I would consider Cthulhu’s Vault because it does provide a neat opportunity for players to craft a unified story. But the shift to the combat phase feels sudden and unrelated. Purple Phoenix Games gives this one a fiendish 5 / 12.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Sir Apropos of Nothing in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Sir Apropos of Nothing Skewers the Hero’s Journey
Contains spoilers, click to show
Fantasy and satire are two of my favorite genres in any medium, but especially so in books. Satirical fantasy, then, holds a special place on my shelves. I grew up on Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, and desire to imitate him and his style is what led me in middle school to begin writing in earnest, for fun, and for myself rather than just for my teachers and their assignments.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.