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franki-lew-yo · 10 months

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Fifty actually good Free to Watch Animated Movies

Most are on Tubi, of course, but I don't think you'll mind that. Get em while they're hot - please dm/pm with any potential triggercontent warnings that you think might be needed.

I especially recommend Mary & Max, Kubo and the Two Strings, Last Unicorn, The Wolf House, Ernest and Celestine, Rock & Rule, Hair High, and Nocturna.

They're all beautiful and absolutely worth your time while they're still on Tubi, Youtube, or just online at all.

Safe for Families

The Legend of Hei (Chinese, English Dub) Action, Fantasy

Ernest and Celestine (English Dub) Comedy/Drama

All Dogs go to Heaven (English) Fantasy/Action/Musical

The Secret of NIMH (English) Adventure/Action/Drama

Nocturna (English Dub) Fantasy/Comedy

The Mouse and his Child (English) Drama/Adventure

The Magic Pony/The Humpbacked Horse (English Dub) Fantasy/Adventure

Ferngully: The Last Rainforest (English) Fantasy/Adventure/Musical

Here Comes Peter Cottontail (English) Comedy/Fantasy/Musical

Moon Man (English Dubs) Fantasy/Comedy

The Legend of Sirius/Sea Prince and the Fire Child (English) Fantasy/Romance/Drama

The Adventures of Unico and Unico and the Island of Magic (English Dubs) Fantasy/Adventure/Comedy

The Snow Queen (English Dub) Fantasy/Adventure

Long Way North (English Dub) Adventure/Historical

Eleanor’s Secret (English Dub) Fantasy/Adventure

The Last Unicorn (English) Fantasy/Drama/Adventure CW: Contains a harpy for one scene that your super religious mom might have a fit at but otherwise safe

Night on the Galactic Railroad (English Dub) Drama/Fantasy

Havoc in Heaven (Mandarin, subs available) Fantasy/Action/Adventure

Tito and the Birds (English Dub) Fantasy/Action/Horror

The Thief and the Cobbler (English) Adventure/Fantasy/Action CW: Ideologically sensitive despictions

The Adventures of Mark Twain (English) Adventure/Fantasy CW: May disturb some children, ideologically sensitive material

Raggedy Anne and Andy: A Musical Adventure (English) Adventure/Fantasy

On Happiness Road (Hokkien/Mandarin, English Sub) Drama/Comedy/Adventure CW: Systemic oppression

The Tale of the Fox (German, English Sub) Fantasy/Adventure

Ringing Bell (Japanese, English Sub) Drama/Adventure CW: May upset some children as it's an analogy for child soldiers

- Hey there, It's Yogi Bear (English) Comedy/Musical/Adventure

Mature

Have a Nice Day (Mandarin, English Sub) Action/Thriller/Crime CW: Violence, Domestic Abuse

The Painting (English Dub) Adventure/Comedy/Drama

Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade (English Dub) Drama/Thriller/Action CW: Police Brutality

A Cat in Paris (English Dub) Action/Comedy/Crime

Penguin Highway (English Dub) Speculative fiction/Drama

When the Wind Blows (English) Drama/Horror CW:Radiation poisoning, Elder Abuse

I Married a Strange Person (English) Comedy/Horror/Romance CW: Violence

Blood Tea and Red String (English) Horror/Arthouse CW: Violence, Sexual assault imagery

The Wolf House (SpanishGerman, English Sub) Horror/Arthouse/Psychological CW: ASMR, themes of religious abuse, csa and cannibalism

The Plague Dogs (English) Drama/Action CW: Animal abuse, animal death, violence

The Romantic (English) Fantasy/Horror CW: Domestic abuse

A Dog's Courage (English dub) Drama/Action/Adventure CW: Animal abuse

Mary & Max (English) Comedy/Drama CW: Selfharm and ablism

Vampires in Havana (Spanish, English Sub) Comedy/Drama CW: Violence

Gandahar (French) Fantasy/Action/Adventure

Animal Farm (English) Drama/Thriller CW: Animal death, animal abuse

Technotise: Edit & I (Serbian, English Sub) Thriller/Fantasy

Dante’s Inferno: An Animated Epic (English) Horror/Fantasy CW: Religious/sexual/domestic abuse imagery, violence

Louis by the Shore (English dub) Drama/Psychological

Memories (Japanese, English Sub) Horror/Thriller/Action CW: Violence

Rock & Rule (English) Fantasy/Action/Musical

Ghost in the Shell (English Dub) Action/Thriller/Drama

Millenium Actress (English Dub) Fantasy/History/Action

Away (Latvian, no talking) Arthouse/Drama

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 9 months

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SET SIX - ROUND ONE - MATCH EIGHT

"Nāve (Death)" (1897 - Janis Rozentāls) / "Abstraction" (1959-1960 - Roberto Matta)

NĀVE (DEATH): The idea that death, even if a tragedy like a kids death, can be gentle makes me insane. The woman doesn’t seem scared to me and death is leaning down gently to place a kiss onto the kids temple and it makes me want to cry. The woman wearing color while the child and death wear only white to signal the end is near? FUCKING ART MAN!!! Makes me want to claw at the walls and howl in agony. (thederpclub)

ABSTRACTION: I got to see this piece in person when I visited the Kemper Art Museum. It confused me when I first saw it but I took a few steps back and looked at it from a distance and it started making sense. A vague figure moves through clouds, surrounded by flying combat machines. I usually find abstract art very odd but this piece feels different. I love the use of bright colors against the gray background and the use of negative space to convey the image. It reminds me of the robots and airships in the Miyazaki movie Castle in the Sky. And for the meaning: the use of gray and indistinct shapes make it feel like the figure is at a remove, not really a part of the dogfight around it. I think it’s a stronger visual effect when seen in person at scale but I hope people still enjoy seeing art that I got very excited about! ( lathgaertha )

("Nāve (Death)" is an oil on canvas painting done by Latvian artist Janis Rozentāls in 1897. It measures 69 cm (27.1 in) x 98 cm (38.5 in) and is currently located Latvian National Museum of Art in Riga.

"Abstraction" is a 1950-60 oil on canvas painting done by Chilean artist Roberto Matta. It measures 58 x 80 inches (147 x 203 cm) and is currently located at the Mildred Lane Kemper Art Museum in St. Louis.)

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text

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questforgalas · 5 months

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Tags/Warnings: none

Masterlist

WC: 2.5K

Flower symbolism: Ghost's bouquet: Orange lily (hatred), thyme (courage), dark crimson rose (mourning) Soap's Bouquet: Heliotrope (devotion), marjoram (joy), sunflower (adoration)

This fic is rated Mature

For those who prefer Ao3

If life imitated the movies, this is how the stakeout would go: Simon and Soap arrive via a helicopter four times the size of the safehouse and land perfectly on the side of the hill next to their destination while going completely undetected by the enemy forces, or any life form within a 20 kilometer radius for that matter, allowing for Simon and Soap to casually stroll into the safehouse with nothing but the t-shirts on their backs and the pistols tucked into their jeans, Lithuanian frost be damned.

The cramped quarters resemble a mini-base, tables and wires connecting enough monitors for a small contingent, but the equipment would barely be warm before Soap exclaims “We got him!”. So, through the view of basic binoculars - high tech equipment be damned - a crystal clear image of General Ghorbrani and the entirety of the Al Quds leadership confirms their target. Cut 30 minutes later, chests heaving, arms covered in blood, and Soap’s shirt in tatters, all 100 of the Al Quds guards lay still on the ground, and Soap stands over the unconscious body of General Ghorbrani.

“Target secured,” Simon says into the radio, and with a job well done, the two soldiers walk out into the sunset, Ghorbrani over Soap’s shoulder, and the blades of the helo thrumming before Simon can decide what he’s ordering for dinner.

Staring through the small telescope propped on the sill, watching a warehouse that had just enough personnel going in and out of it to still be considered operational, Simon didn’t blame the production companies for taking creative liberties.

That first morning it all seemed so straight forward.

“Been doin’ a little diggin’ on this warehouse of ours,” Simon offered once Soap seemed content giving up on his little interrogation, focus back on getting the caffeine in his system.

“Aye? Don’t keep us waitin’ then.”

“Been operatin’ for a couple decades now, at least since the Cold War. Main employment plant for the nearby town, which given it employs 36 people says more ‘bout the town than the warehouse,” Simon rattled off. “Nothin’ made in there, from what I can gathe’. Just storage. Goods transfe’s.” He looked at Soap across the table. The bleary, sleep-addled look cleared with each sip of coffee, but the mohawk was still a right mess, managing to stick in every direction regardless of its short length.

Simon hated it.

“All seems a wee bit…” Soap gestured. “Small? No? Especially fer Ghorbrani.”

Simon nodded. “Ya’re not wrong. But Intel tracked some transfe’s from this warehouse to ‘nother on the Russian-Latvian border, and vice-versa, ove’ the years.”

“Bit of a trek fer a middle-of-nowhere warehouse.”

“And those transfe’s have increased over the last three months. Combine that with more and more reports of Ghorbrani being sighted outside of Iran, and, well, Laswell’s instincts are telling her somethin’s off.”

Soap hummed as he leaned back in the chair, looking out the window sitting above the kitchen sink. “Well, if Laswell says so…” he said, tone still wary.

“Brief estimates a week of observation. Transfe’s seem frequent enough that that should be enough to give us somethin’,” Simon supplied.

Soap’s face turned skeptical. “Aye, cause the brief is always so accurate.”

Simon clicked the laptop closed and gave a small shrug. “Guess we’ll ‘ave to see.”

“Get nice an’ cozy in the meantime.”

Simon hummed, leaning further back in his chair, truly testing the limits, one arm lazing atop the back. Silence fell upon them again, but not the tense, stifling silence followed by two strangers reconning new territory and discovering which invisible boundaries led to new terrain and which sounded an alarm.

No, this silence hummed with anticipation.

Part of it was familiar - the same focused calm that washes over before the loading ramp drops or before settling into a sniper’s perch. Before being thrown into the fray, preparing to fight through whatever fires hell threw their way - but there was another layer to it as they sat at the too-small table, neither breaking eye contact.

The Scot didn’t back down from Simon’s silent challenge, keeping crystal blue eyes locked on unmoving brown.

Not on the skull. Not on the balaclava. Not on the four knives tucked into a belt at 0700.

Blue on brown. As if all the layers and protections built around Simon Riley were mere suggestions. Irrelevant.

Looking back, Simon would recognize that silent hum for what it was - the moment he was well and truly fucked when it came to John “Soap” MacTavish.

For the first time in a long time, he was the one to back down, unable to handle the tightening under his skin, pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves to let some cool air in under the long sleeve shirt that was growing stifling.

Unable to handle that unwavering blue gaze.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “We’ll take two shifts. 12 ‘ours each. I’ll take overnight. You’ll spell me in the mornin’. That window…” He gestured to the lone window between the living room and the kitchen. “Has a direct line at the warehouse. Clear visual of the road leadin’ up to it too, so we’ll ‘ave eyes on all traffic comin’ in and out. Once we’re set up, you’ll take first watch while I go into town to gathe’ supplies. Clear?”

“Roger that, Lieutenant.”

Plan set, Simon stood, instant relief hitting his stiff joints when he stretched his arms to the ceiling, but when he relaxed back down, he noticed that the sergeant’s gaze was fixed on the table, a slight scarlet dusting along his cheeks.

“Ya ‘lright?” he asked.

Soap startled, shaken out of whatever trance had taken over, glancing up. “Yeah, yeah,” the Scot stammered, absentmindedly sipping from the cup.

Simon ignored the odd exchange, not in the mood to deal with it this early, instead strolling to the kettle, grabbing a cup from the cupboard on the way, and going about making himself a cuppa.

Lost in the process - the closest to meditation he’ll ever practice - he missed Soap ambling up to the counter until a hand was reaching for the pot of coffee in front of him.

“Want some tea with tha’ sugar, sir?” the Scot teased.

“Where do ya think I get all my sweetness from?” he quipped back.

“Aye, Simon Riley. A right cinnamon roll.” Soap rolled his eyes. “Make sure the bad guys don’ find oot. Military’s reputation will go to shite.”

“Might be too late for that. They let you in, didn’ they?”

“Away an’ bile yer heid!” Soap smacked his shoulder, scoffing “Get tha’ sugar in ye. Ye might be more tolerable then.” He wandered off. “Wha’ equipment we got? Is it this over here?”

It took only two days for both of them to realize that the brief was indeed not accurate and that a week was a hopeful wish, accepting that they might as well make themselves at home.

For nine days, the only consistent traffic in and out of the warehouse were shift changes three times a day in groups of twelve workers.

Nine days of the same cars back and forth. Nine days of the same workers passing through the doors. Nine days hunched over a telescope for 12 hours.

Or so Simon’s back told him.

A deep groan escaped from under the mask as he unfurled, noting that the morning shift wasn’t scheduled for another 15 minutes at 0800, so he could allow himself a break. It certainly had nothing to do with knowing that the sergeant would be walking through the front door at any moment.

Years of military discipline have a habit of bleeding into the day-to-day, and even when the only item on the schedule was “sit and watch a warehouse”, Soap rose from bed, poured his first cup of coffee, strapped on his trainers, and was out and back in the door, chest heaving from his run, within the same minute every day.

Admirable was one way to describe it.

Obsessive was another.

Either way, the Scot’s whereabouts were predictable, and that slipped a little ease into Simon’s mind.

Right on cue, the thunk thunk of trainers on the front stairs echoed into the house, and the front door swung open soon after, allowing the crisp late-summer morning to drift into the small space. The sergeant meandered in, earbuds blaring an awful (in Simon’s opinion) mix of rock and bagpipes while Soap fumbled on his phone, black t-shirt clinging to the thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, and not for the first time during this stakeout did Simon need to call upon years of discipline to tamp down the urge to stare.

Whereas the lieutenant’s height stretched honed muscles into a thick, athletic frame, the sergeant was all bulk, calling back to the Highland warriors in his blood.

Soap lifted the hem to swipe the last droplets from his damp mohawk, displaying a thick torso that hinted at a dedication to fitness but a refusal to deny the pleasures of life. Black sweats hugged powerful thighs, and Simon offered a thought and a prayer to the sleeves tasked with covering those arms.

Finally, after some more fumbling, the muffled racket ceased, and the Scot offered a greeting. “Hou’s it gaun, Lt?”

What the bloody…

Slowly, Simon turned, chair groaning under the weight, fully facing the living room, and even with his face covered, Soap clearly had no trouble reading his confusion.

The sergeant rolled his eyes. “Steamin’ jesus, it just means ‘how’s it goin’ it’s not tha’ hard ta…”

“Lt?” Simon interrupted.

A look flashed across the sergeant’s face quick enough that anyone not trained to read body language like their own dialect would have missed it, but Simon caught it, the split second of panic. It was gone just as quickly, the Scot schooling his face and shrugging, strolling over to the kitchen table where he tossed his phone, but the dusting of scarlet along his cheeks betrayed his indifference. “Slipped out.” Blue eyes lifted. “Lieutenant’s a bit much on the regular, aye?”

“Gettin’ lazy already, Sergeant? Only been nine days.”

“Aye, a thrillin’ nine days it’s been.” Soap hesitated, shifting on one foot. “More comfortable, I reckon.”

Simon froze.

Comfortable?

No one was comfortable with Simon Riley.

He was blank eyes peering at the world through the top half of a plastic skull crudely sewn into a black balaclava covering the face of a 6’ 6” man who had risen from the dead. The danger he possessed and the danger people perceived started to blend together years ago, no longer feeling the need to distinguish himself from the shadowy nightmare in their minds.

Why bother? So few saw past the mask.

He demanded the respect of the squads he led into missions, boasting the highest rate of soldiers returning home than any other officer - not to mention the success rate racked up from solo missions - but beyond Price and Garrick, no one could stand the heavy tension that settled in a room with just them and the lieutenant.

No one was comfortable with the Ghost.

He blinked, at a loss for words.

The silence stretched.

Soap shifted to the other foot, dropping his gaze, fingers tapping the table, scarlet now fully covering his cheeks.

Vulnerable.

But comfortable.

Eventually, Simon’s brain caught up. “Always hated lieutenant,” he huffed while he quickly turned back to the scope. “Least efficient title next to ‘corporal’.”

A sigh drifted across the kitchen. “Sergeant’s not exactly a brief one, either.”

“Rolls better.”

“If ye say so.” A pause. “Lt.” Simon turned, catching Soap in the corner of his eye, and the smile plastered across the Scot’s face was nothing short of winning the biggest prize at the fair.

Simon simply shook his head. “Bet ya a tenne’ ya can’t guess what I’ve clocked’,” he rushed to change the subject.

“Oi, how many guesses do I get?” Cupboard doors banged in the background.

“Three.”

“Oof, tough take, Lt.” The faucet ran followed by the click of the stove. “How could I possibly guess?”

Simon couldn’t help the smile hidden underneath the cloth.

A look through the scope confirmed five cars approaching the warehouse: two silver, one dark green, one blue, and one black.

Morning shift change.

Twelve fresh workers clambered out of their respective vehicles, sleepy waves offered in greeting, thermos in hand. Like clockwork, the twelve night workers made their way into the parking lot, meeting the fresher colleagues with a fraction of the energy.

“Ol’ Nessy been hidin’ in tha’ warehouse?”

“Shockingly, no.”

The night workers drifted to their cars. Four in total. Three black and one silver.

“Hmm” The kettle whistled. “Yer old girlfriend’s walkin’ up the hill.”

“Less chance of that happenin’ than spottin’ Nessy.” Simon said. “Last guess. Make it count, Sergeant.”

A giant, white blur appeared, obstructing the view to the warehouse, and Simon flicked his eyes up to find Soap smirking down at him, a porcelain cup in hand. “Three black and one silver sedan are headin’ away from the warehouse. Night shift endin’ and mornin’ shift startin’. Twelve workers, three to a car. Mornin’ shift arrived in five cars total. Three in the blue, three in the black, one in the green, two in one of the silver, and three in the other.” He threw a wink Simon’s way. “How’d I do?”

“Looks like I owe ya a tenner.” Simon eyed the cup suspiciously. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Yer sugar with a side of tea.” The smirk grew. “Yer a nightmare before yer mornin’ cuppa.”

“Some of us actually enjoy flavor, Sergeant.” Simon quipped back. “Not torturin’ our taste buds with black bean water. Make it right?”

“Now tha’s just insultin’, Lt. Four sugar. Splash of milk.” Soap gave a little bow. “Just how ye like it.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Before reaching for the cup, Simon grabbed the back of the chair, giving a twist until a pop offered sweet relief to his aching joints that rivaled an orgasm.

The moan that escaped his lips agreed.

A choked sound came from next to him, and when he looked up, Soap was still holding the cup out to him, looking everywhere except at Simon, cheeks now deep maroon.

“Cheers,” Simon said, taking the cup and pointedly ignoring the current shooting through him when his fingers brushed against Soap’s.

“Ya. Ya, sure” Soap stammered, scratching the back of his neck, staring at a spot behind the lieutenant. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Well, quite the action packed mornin’ for ya, huh Lt? I’m goin’ ta grab a shower then spell ye, yeah?” The sergeant tumbled over his words “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” Then Simon watched, completely puzzled, as Soap literally tripped over his feet rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Odd little bastard he thought while he took an experimental sip of the tea. When the first drop hit his tongue, his eyebrows shot up.

“Bloody hell.” He muttered, looking down at the perfect cuppa.

Strike #3: overly observant.

#edited with new design #tay writes #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap

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felixcosm · 5 months

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Michael comes home one day with an actual tree on his shoulder, barely fitting in the doorway with all the branches in the way. Snow and loose pine needles litter the hallway and when Mike gets up to see what the commotion is all about, he just stares until Michael yells at him to help.

They put the tree in the corner (covering up a section of the wall that had water damage stains which neither of them admitted to being bothered by) and already it's making their shitty Latvian apartment look ten times cozier.

At first they settle on stringing up popcorn and cheap fairy lights, until Michael starts carving little ornaments out of wood and eventually Boris comes down with some decorations. He claims that a previous tenant left it behind once but they seem suspiciously new.

Neither Michael nor Mike mention this.

In lieu of stockings they hang up actual socks and over the month, they fill each other's with little gifts.

Michael cooks some ham he and Boris hunted, Mike makes them both spiked hot chocolate and they watch the most awful Christmas movies on the couch together, huddled close for warmth under a blanket with Bruno.

#woe.begone #mike/michael #iterationship #mikecest #do not propagate #its thinking about mike and michael making a home in latvia together time again

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catnippackets · 1 year

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what's the name of the sad cat movie (?) you reblogged? i tried checking the tags and everyone was just saying "me" :,(

it's called The Cat's Mill, or Kaķīša Dzirnavas! my friends and I watched it a few days ago but it was really hard to find and we had to watch it in the original latvian with auto generated subtitles so it was an incredibly surreal experience lol but very sweet and definitely worth a watch if cats and magic are your thing

#ask #Anonymous

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how-much-for-a-whump · 1 year

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Dvēseļu putenis | Blizzard of Souls (2019)

#latvian #latvian movie #whump #male whump #shot #blood #pain #cared for #bandages #comfort #Dvēseļu putenis #Blizzard of Souls #Oto Brantevics

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theaskew · 4 months

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vimeo

Minotaur, a short animation, stop motion/paint on glass, by Latvian painter and animator Kārlis Vītols, 2016.

#Vimeo #film #movie #cinema #animation #short animated film #Latvian cinema #Latvian animator #Kārlis Vītols #Latvian animation

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thevagabondexpress · 5 months

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the iron house has a playlist now

for those who hate youtube and haven't installed ublock yet:

arsonist's lullabye (hozier) blood of angels (brown bird) satisfaction (the rolling stones) all along the watchtower (jimi hendrix) bones (imagine dragons) if i ever get out of here [full song edited] (paul mccartney) california dreamin' [but the audio is fixed for headphone people] (the mamas and the papas) pearl cadillac (gary clark jr) the logical song (supertramp) seventh son (johnny rivers) take me to war (the crane wives) war pigs (t pain) like a movie (labrinth) eat your young (hozier) man of war (radiohead) some unholy war [down tempo] (amy winehouse) team (lorde) leave your home (sons of the west) dinner and diatribes (hozier) d minor (the haunted windchimes) i know places (taylor swift) opera in the whale (before the bulb) me and the devil (soap&skin) i'm so sorry (imagine dragons) viva la vida (scary pockets & maia sykes) black horse and a cherry tree (kt tunstall) latvian bride (piñataland) holding out for a hero (nothing but thieves)

tagging @faithfromanewperspective @tleeaves @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone @quantummeep @litanyofthemartyrs @chaoticpotatodemon

since we got this and an abwo update today and there'll be the official hand of oak, hand of iron update tomorrow but there is no major holiday happening consider this your international occult day fanfic special (because that is a holiday that is happening)

#the iron house #hand of oak hand of iron #thevagabondexpress made a playlist

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gellavonhamster · 7 months

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monthly media recap: september 2023

read:

Angélique, the Road of Hope and The Victory of Angélique by Anne Golon - can't believe I finished this, lol. It's a pity book 14 wasn't published, but book 13 provides a conclusion to many main plotlines, so it's still a decent ending. I will always wonder if another one of my brotps was supposed to reunite in the last book, though :D For all its faults, enjoyed this series tremendously; it's the people helping and supporting each other even in the bleakest circumstances for me

Ten Thousand Stitches by Olivia Atwater - Regency Faerie Tales part two, even cuter than part one. Seriously, these books are such a delight, I need to read part three ASAP

Spēlēju, dancoju / I Played, I Sang by Rainis - girl help, my Latvian vocabulary does not include that much archaic and/or poetic language, but I did understand enough to see how beautiful it is

Gaywick by Vincent Virga - I read that one liveblogging thread/channel, so I was familiar with the plot, but it was still so interesting to see it all happen. Incredible how a book can cover so many disturbing, truly Gothic themes and still be hopeful and sweet, loved it

Vadriel Vail by Vincent Virga - Gaywick Trilogy book 2, not nearly as good as the first one. Constant timeskips, important events only told in passing, one of the MCs is a boring Gary Stu and the other disgusting. Bearable thanks to the first one's wife and characters from book 1

The Price Guide to the Occult by Leslye Walton - it's not terrible and had some interesting stuff, but still felt sort of... superficial? Most of the characters felt underdeveloped, the story often felt like an outline. I bought it mostly because it was cheap and I'm glad it was.

+ currently reading Children of Paradise (Gaywick Trilogy #3)

watched:

Apteeker Melchior / Melchior the Apothecary (2023) - a murder mystery set in medieval Tallinn. Something bugged me about the dialogue, but I mostly enjoyed the plot and the familiar setting

The Skeleton Key (2005) - Southern Gothic, a grim old house, and Hoodoo magic. Enjoyed the final plot twists and how they recontextualize a lot of stuff earlier in the movie. Was rooting for the heroine but also had to hand it to the antagonists in the end, good for them

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) - so, so charming. Impossible not to hum and move along to the songs. Marilyn Monroe, of course, is a goddess, but Jane Russell tho... gentlemen might prefer blondes but I'm no gentleman

How to Marry a Millionaire (1953) - also charming and funny, though I found it a bit less interesting than the previous one; still good though

Constantine (2005) - I frequently felt like I was missing some context. Either I'm stupid or it's just because I haven't read the comics, but shouldn't a movie adaptation be understandable even for those unfamiliar with the source? Otherwise it was ok and had Rachel Weisz in it

Rebecca (1940) - not nearly as haunting as the novel, but a good film nevertheless. Mostly I just wanted to protect the narrator :( she's so cute

also, a bit unrelated, probably, but I saw two theatre performances last month - one was a live screening of Good by the National Theatre (powerful, amazingly done, probably wouldn't have decided to see it by myself, so thanks to the friend who suggested it) and the other The Three Musketeers neo-classical ballet at the Latvian National Opera and Ballet (really nice, cool stage design, I posted a trailer here)

#talk talk talk #monthly media recap #i also watched castlevania: nocturne yesterday but that's already for october

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