#he already has alcohol addiction issues he knows a self-destructive spiral when he knows one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

michals · 3 years

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(Ok this was supposed to be like, a couple of paragraphs but it turned into a freaking essay, so it’s under the cut haha)

On Klaus, Luther and addiction

So this is something I personally find to have a lot of great thematic potential for these two characters. The idea of Luther falling into the same trap that Klaus has for both similar and different reasons and Klaus dealing with Luther’s addictions while facing his own is such a great thru line for both of them. The show’s set them up with the building blocks for this plot point and it would be so easy for it to come into play this season, especially this season actually.

Luther’s build up to addiction is subtle but I think they’ve planted the seeds enough to make it into something. Him falling apart in The Day That Was and his first reaction is to turn to alcohol and drugs is pretty significant considering it’s obvious that he’s probably been very ‘straight edge’ his whole life, probably never having even drank before then. And he tells Klaus straight out that he wishes he was like him, that he didn’t care and that he could just ignore all his own feelings like he thinks Klaus does. (I’ll get into how the family deals with Klaus’s addiction in a minute.) He goes out and does things under the influence he would never have done while sober, things that end up being self destructive (ie having sex that he seemed to really not want). But even then he’s gotten the idea that if he’s drinking/on something then he’s not thinking about all his shitty feelings.

Season two really sets it up because it’s not just one event but several. In the first ep at the bar he has a drink very casually, like he’s been doing it for years and not just because his life fell apart in the past how many months. The flask when he goes to Vanya’s is really telling firstly because he has a flask on him at all times at this point, that he uses it to get his courage up to go in the barn, and that he does it even when he’s driving. But it’s the nitrous scene that really cements it for me, again simply because he went from being basically a teetotaler to jumping at the first offer of heavy drugs. And he says he should’ve done this a long time ago. If I may get a little personal I know how easy it is to fall into this, the idea of ‘hey alcohol (or drugs) makes me feel better or at least I don’t think/care as much so why wouldn’t I do it?’. It’s such an easy slope to fall down and on the surface Luther has plenty of reasons to want to.

Now, Klaus: there’s plenty already been said about Klaus’s relationship with drugs and alcohol so I won’t get too wordy. Klaus is defined to us right away as a junkie and addict. Someone who uses substances to avoid dealing specifically with his powers and also his shitty upbringing. He plays very fast and loose with his own sobriety and even his mortality. Basically: he uses drugs to avoid thinking or feeling bad, or at least worse but he’s far, far past the point of entry into full blown dependence.

The scene between him and Luther in season 1 is a personal favorite just because it manages to deal with and establish a number of thematic ideas and the potential for how Luther and Klaus’s relationship can go from there. Luther, like the rest of the family, doesn’t understand Klaus’s addiction partially because they’ve all been estranged for 13 years and partially because Klaus doesn’t take it seriously and puts forth a very flippant persona, hell he doesn’t take anything that seriously. The world’s ending, they don’t have the time or inclination to humor Klaus’s story of chocolate pudding. Luther clearly misunderstands his addiction because yes, Klaus comes across as kind of happy and okay with himself but that’s because of the drugs. To Luther who’s been locked up with their asshole of a father Klaus seems to actually have a life of his own.

But Klaus doesn’t try too hard to walk that opinion back and here’s something I find important that tends to get left out when people point out that the family doesn’t take Klaus’s problems seriously: Klaus doesn’t talk about it or try and deal with it. Klaus really really doesn’t like dealing with things if he thinks he can avoid them. His powers, his childhood, Reginald, Ben, his cult – if he can run away from it or make a joke about it instead that’s what he’ll do. The one thing he ever really shows much initiative with is Dave. He’s self centered and I mean that in the most basic way – everything comes down to what he wants to do and he actually keeps his feelings close to the vest for the most part. Basically he doesn’t want to give the others an ‘in’ point to really address it (bonus they all heaps of problems of their own). And when he does get into it just the barest amount with Luther Luther’s high as fuck.

(Just to touch on Ben he kind of doesn’t count because firstly he can’t talk to anyone else and secondly he and Klaus have such a strained relationship especially regarding Klaus’s drug use that even if anyone else could hear him he probably wouldn’t be that supportive.)

So, actually getting into the whole season 3 thing: the siblings are about to face off with a whole lot of daddy and family issues in this time line and everyone’s got huge potential for emotional and mental shakedowns, but I think Luther’s gonna have the worst time of it. Don’t think I’m going to get into that BS of comparing traumas and saying anyone’s more ‘worthy’ of sympathy than any of the others, I’m saying specifically because it’s to do with Reginald not only rejecting him yet again and outright replacing him but that it’s not even ‘his’ Reginald so does that mean all the shit he put Luther through doesn’t count? I just see it as catalyst for a real breakdown for him.

Not to say this won’t mess with Klaus but Klaus hated Reginald long ago and has accepted that the guy was a douchebag and had no real love for his children, so personally I see his drug use as dealing with Reggie’s abuse but more so to deal with his powers. So yes, this’ll absolutely fuck with him but Luther’s the primo target here.

So what if we see Luther leaning even harder into drinking or even heavier things? Now he really has an excuse to because where’s he supposed to go from here? What’s he meant to do? He’s not the leader anymore, his family doesn’t always treat his trauma seriously (Klaus parallels there) nevermind he doesn’t even like to address it himself, he has no idea who he’s supposed to be and the one person who he thought actually cared about him not only doesn’t but never did and now he’ll never get back what he saw as his purpose in life. The whole Ben being alive thing is just icing on the cake. If he spirals in s3 it would make perfect sense because of all this and all the set up for it.

Klaus spiraled too at the end of s2 again becoming the fatalistic junkie he used to be, he’s gonna run from his problems again but it’s not just his powers this time. So he’s off the wagon but what if he notices Luther is too?

I can definitely see Luther trying to hide it from the others. He’s already given away too much of his weaknesses, he doesn’t want them to see their ‘leader’ continue to fall and I don’t think he’d want them to know he’s still that affected by Reginald. They want him to have dealt with it, like he seems to have at least a little in s2, if he’s completely fallen apart because of his dad again then that just makes him look pathetic. So he keeps his flask and finds excuses to get away with stumbling or slurring his words. But Klaus notices, because Klaus knows the signs.

In that scene in s1 Klaus very obviously doesn’t like seeing Luther like that or using drugs as an escape like he does. He’s self aware enough to know that this isn’t any way to live but is too pessimistic when it comes to himself. But, again, he tends to be pretty self centered. This is not a bad thing, this is a great character trait and it makes Klaus interesting. He does not know how to relate to his siblings on the whole, doesn’t know how to talk about his own traumas and addictions, so when he does hear them out it’s usually because he had was focusing on his own shit first. For instance: when he has the heart to heart with Allison in her kitchen he’s only there in the first place because he was falling apart because of Dave.

Luther having a problem will have to be something Klaus purposefully chooses to deal with because he’s worried about one of this siblings. And for obvious reasons Klaus is the perfect one to help him with it. He doesn’t want to see Luther like that but he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on if he wants him to stop. Hell, if Klaus won’t stop why should Luther? Klaus can’t use ‘do what I say not as I do’, partially because Luther has proven to have some self destructive/self harming tendencies and again, if it makes him feel okay or at least steady then why would he stop?

But Klaus stopping means that he’s going to have to confront his quite literal demons when it comes to his powers (I could go off on how much I don’t love that he was somehow sober for 3 years in the 60’s no problem but it didn’t seem to affect his powers at all but that’s another post). The number one thing he’s been running from his whole life, something the show hasn’t actually done a whole lot with. We knows he hates it, we knows he’s tortured by it, but we’ve seen no evidence that he’s ever really confronted it. He was traumatized by Reggie who did everything wrong so he went the opposite route.

But what if he has to stay sober for Luther’s sake? Even if he doesn’t want to help, even if he just enables it or joins him at first eventually he’d have to come the realization that he doesn’t like this, that he wouldn’t wish this kind of problem on someone he cares about. So he’s going to have to turn inward, he’s going to have to face up to both his addiction and his powers, maybe even finally try to tame and use his powers. And at some point he’d have to talk to Luther about it and stop hiding behind his glib façade.

So in the end we’d get to see Luther falling apart trying to deal with everything that he still very much needs to deal with and his subconscious tendency for self destruction, Klaus confronting his addictions, his own feelings and relationship to his siblings, and his powers and hell, maybe then we’ll actually get him using his powers to his/the group’s benefit.

#tua meta #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves

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morningfears · 6 years

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Don’t

Rating: PG-13 | Mentions of drug use and alcoholism. Swearing. Mentions of death and overdose.

Summary: “Don’t say you love me.” + “That’s it, nice and easy.” for @irwinofficial. | Disclaimer: I’m not saying that anyone has any issues in real life. This is fiction, okay? I’m not making light of any real situations. It’s angst and fiction. || Ashton has a problem and as his best friend, you feel guilty that you can’t help fix it.

Word Count: 4.1k

The clock on your stove reads nearly two in the morning but you can’t get your thoughts to quiet long enough to fall asleep. You’re exhausted, the stress from the previous week seems to permanently rest on your shoulders and it’s enough to keep you in a state of near permanent agitation as you sit on the kitchen island, staring without truly seeing at the coffee maker sitting on the counter across from you. You’re debating making a cup, it’s not like the caffeine will make falling asleep any harder than it already seems to be, when the violent vibrations of your cellphone startle you back into the moment.

The moment you see the name at the top of the screen, you frown. It isn’t like Calum to call so late, especially not when he’s already heard your excuse for not attending the night’s party, so a small ball of nervous energy forms in the pit of your stomach as you swipe the answer option and bring the phone to your ear.

“It’s nearly two in the morning, Calum,” you sigh in place of a greeting, your voice clearly exhausted and raspy from lack of use.

You hear a quiet laugh on the other end of the line, a sound that mingles with cars driving past and muffled music, and you breathe another sigh. You’re envisioning him standing outside the venue of tonight’s party, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other. A deep exhale at least partially confirms your suspicions and you almost admonish him for smoking when he promised he’d try to quit when he finally speaks.

“You’re still awake,” he points out. “You answered.”

“Now’s really not the time to lecture me about not sleeping,” you huff as you pick at a loose string on your pajama shorts. “What’s up, Calum? I was just about to go to bed.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” he laughs and your frown deepens. Calum knows you far too well. Over the past five years, he’s gotten to know you nearly as well as Ashton and it makes the situation you’re in all the more awkward as you think of something to say to him.

You want to tell him that you’re not avoiding him, but you are. You’re avoiding Calum because you know that if you see him, you’ll see Ashton and you’re not certain that your heart can take seeing Ashton at the moment. You’re avoiding Calum because you know that the moment he brings up your mutual best friend, your resolve will crumble and you’ll spill your innermost thoughts to him and only make matters worse. You know that if you see Calum, he’ll tell you he’s just as worried about Ashton as you are and the two of you will be forced to make a decision that could seriously alter the course of your friendship with both each other and with Ashton.

So, you’ve avoided not only Ashton, the person you most want to see, but Calum and Michael and Luke, too.

But before you can tell him that you need to go, he breathes another exhale of smoke and continues, “I’m calling about Ash.”

“I figured,” you sigh as you stare down at the unraveling string on your shorts.

You haven’t spoken to any of them in weeks. The last conversation you had was with Ashton and it ended in a screaming match that woke his neighbors. You’ve spent the past year worried about his partying, worried about his mental and physical health, and lately things have started to spiral. He got so much worse seemingly overnight and when you attempted to broach the subject, he grew more defensive than you’d ever seen him.

“I’m just worried about you, Ash,” you sigh as you watch him grab another bottle of beer from his fridge. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m fine,” he repeats for what has to be the tenth time in as many minutes.

His frustration is clear on his face and you know that you should drop the subject like you’ve done so many times before but you can’t bring yourself to do it again. Instead, you stand from the couch and reach for the hoodie you’d shrugged off upon your arrival. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you self-destruct, Ashton. When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

“Why does it matter?” he snaps as he turns to face you. “You’re not my mom and you’re not my girlfriend. Fucking drop it.”

“I’m neither of those things,” you agree, “but I am your friend and I’m worried about you, Ash. You’re staying out until sunrise, coming home completely fucked up. And, I mean. That’s not healthy but, whatever. You’re young, you’re famous, you have money; fuck it, party and enjoy your life. But, Ash. You’ve been so drunk you can’t stand up right in the middle of the day on multiple occasions. I don’t think you drink anything that isn’t alcohol lately.” You pause for a moment, hesitating, before you add, “And I overheard the others talking about the drugs.”

The look on his face is unreadable as he waits for you to continue speaking. When you don’t elaborate, he downs the beer he’d just pulled from the fridge and asks, “What about them?”

“Ashton,” you sigh, torn between wanting to express your concerns with him and wanting to end the conversation before you anger him. “You should stop while you still can.”

The unreadable expression shifts back into an annoyed mask as he rolls his eyes once more. “I’m not a drug addict,” he spits as he places the empty bottle onto the counter and folds his arms over his chest.

“I’m not saying you are,” you huff as you clutch the hoodie between your fingers. “I’m just saying that if you don’t stop, you might become one. Look, you know how much you can handle better than I do but I’m worried about you. You haven’t been sleeping. If you’re not out at a party, you’re throwing one here. I don’t remember the last time I saw you sober. I feel like I’m just repeating myself here but I wish you’d at least pretend to listen to me. I care about you, Ash. I just want you to be healthy.”

“No one else is worried about me,” he shouts, his temper getting the better of him as he allows the anger that’s been swelling in the pit of his stomach to explode. “None of my other friends are coming into my house and accusing me of being an alcoholic or an addict so clearly this isn’t my problem. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing but you should stop.”

“I’m trying to be a good fucking friend,” you cry with a shake of your head. “Your other friends aren’t saying anything because they’re getting fucked up with you, Ashton. Those assholes don’t care! They’re just here for the alcohol and the drugs and what your name can get them. The guys won’t say anything because they don’t want to hurt you. This isn’t my problem but I’m making it my problem because I’m in love with you, you idiot. I don’t want to wake up to a call that you’ve done something stupid.”

Ashton stares at you, an unreadable look in his eyes as he asks, “You’re in love with me?”

“Fuck off, oh my god,” you laugh, no trace of humor in the sound. “I tell you that I’m afraid you’re going to end up dead and that’s all you get from that? Ashton, I’m being fucking serious.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “So am I. And I seriously want to know-“ before Ashton can finish his sentence, the sound of his doorbell interrupts him.

You stare at him for a moment before you shake your head and grab your bag from the coffee table. “I’ll get it on my way out,” you inform him as you step around him to reach the front door.

Standing in front of you is a man that you recognize as one of Ashton’s neighbors, clad in an outfit that tells you he was out for a run. “Sorry,” he apologizes the moment you open the door, “I just was running by and heard shouting. I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

“It’s fine,” you snap as you nudge past him and slam the door behind you on your way out. “I was just leaving.”

Since that night, you haven’t talked to any of the boys. Calum has reached out multiple times, each message shorter than the last until he finally stopped nearly a week ago. Luke and Michael still send messages, none as serious as Calum’s and none daring to mention Ashton. You’re frustrated, ready to throw in the towel and walk away from the entire situation, but you can’t.

You don’t want to abandon Ashton. You don’t want to leave when you know that you should stay. So instead of hanging up like you truly want to do, you remain on the line as Calum begs, “Please don’t hang up. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”

“I know,” you sigh as you slide off the counter and begin pacing around your kitchen. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

“No,” Calum sighs. You can hear shuffling in the background and you can picture him moving to lean against the building or sit on the curb as he lights another cigarette. “I thought he was spiraling before but it’s gotten so much worse,” Calum admits quietly. He pauses, takes a drag of his cigarette, before he continues. “We’ve all been shit about this. We’re the worst friends. It wasn’t affecting his drumming so we didn’t say anything. We thought he’d be able to stop but he hasn’t. He passed out at my place a week ago in the middle of a writing session. Did it again this morning in rehearsal. But he’s inside right now, completely fucking smashed again. I’ve known it was a problem for a while but I didn’t want to admit it.”

“You do now?” You question as you lean against the island, a frown on your lips.

“Yeah,” he breathes, another exhale from the cigarette. “It’s a problem. We have to do something.”

“He won’t listen to me, Calum,” you remind him as you hang your head and close your eyes. “That was the last attempt. I feel so selfish but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep begging him to get help when he doesn’t want it. I can’t keep watching him spiral.”

“It’s not selfish,” Calum assures you quickly. “I know how it feels as his best friend but you’re in love with him. I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”

You’re quiet for a moment, allowing Calum’s words to sink in, before you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you finally sigh. “Why are you really calling me, Calum? What do you want me to do?”

“I’m asking a lot,” Calum warns carefully before he pauses. He gives you enough time to flat out refuse to hear him out before he continues. “Is there any way you’d consider coming to pick him up and taking him home? He’ll be here until they close because he won’t leave with me. I know if you ask, he’ll let you take him home.”

“How fucked up is he?” you ask as you shuffle out of your kitchen in search of a hoodie and a pair of shoes. Your body is acting on its own even though your brain is telling you that this is a terrible idea.

“He can barely stand,” Calum sighs as you hear his lighter once more. “If you can just get him home, I’ll come over and keep an eye on him. I know he won’t leave with me and that’s the hardest part.”

You’re quiet for a long moment as you stare at the hoodie you’d borrowed from Ashton years ago and never given back. It no longer smells like him but you can still picture the night he pulled it off and handed it to you after you made an offhanded comment about forgetting your jacket at home. You’re almost certain that’s the night you fell in love with him, no other memory remains as crystal clear in your mind, and the heavy feeling in your chest makes you drop the hoodie and reach for a fluffy cardigan instead.

“Where are you guys?” you ask as you grab your keys and bag.

“That place you hate,” Calum replies sheepishly. “He’s been adamant that we come here lately. I don’t know why. Any time I ask, he brushes me off.”

As you lock your front door, you absentmindedly admit, “We kissed there. It was a few years ago, right after this girl who didn’t really like me broke up with him. I told him that he couldn’t do that, that he couldn’t just kiss me because I was there, and we never talked about it again.”

“Oh,” Calum huffs in surprise as you listen to him light yet another cigarette. “I didn’t know that.”

“No one did,” you shrug, forgetting that he can’t see you. “I’m on my way to you. If you smoke another cigarette between now and the time I get there, I’m kidnapping Duke until you quit.”

Calum laughs on the other end of the line and you can hear his boot grinding against the concrete. “I put it out,” he informs you. “I know how much you love Duke so I believe you.” He falls silent for a moment before he says, “I’ll wait out front for you. I’m afraid if I tell Ash that you’re coming, he might leave.”

Instead of responding to his fear, you reply, “I’ll see you when I get there, Cal,” and hang up the phone before the voice in your head can convince you that this is a bad idea.

The drive to the bar is silent. You don’t notice the lack of music as you allow your thoughts to consume you. You miss Ashton, that much is certain, and you want him to be okay. You want him to be healthy and happy. It pains you to see him like this and you’re not ready for the sight you know awaits you at the bar.

True to his word, Calum is sitting on the curb outside the bar. His cigarettes are hidden in his pocket and he’s staring out into the night air as you approach him. He doesn’t notice you until you clear your throat and mumble, “You look creepy sitting out here all alone.”

Calum smiles a half-hearted smile as he stands from the curb and allows you to be the one to close the distance between you. “I’m waiting for a friend,” he informs you quietly, “I haven’t seen her in a while and I promised her I’d wait outside.”

You stare at him for a moment before you open your arms to hug him. Calum returns the embrace in kind and frowns when you mumble, “I’m sorry, Cal.”

“Don’t apologize,” he chastises gently as he allows you to pull away. “I don’t blame you. You can’t help him if he won’t let you,” Calum reminds you. “Taking care of yourself is important. I’m just hoping he’s willing to at least let you take him home tonight.”

“I don’t know if he even wants to see me, Cal,” you sigh as you wrap your arms around yourself and hug your cardigan tight to your body. “The last time we saw each other it ended in a screaming match. I don’t want to upset him.”

“He told me what you said,” Calum admits as he begins inching closer to the door. “He told me that you said you were in love with him. He was talking about wanting to take you out, wanting to tell you that he loves you, too. He started talking about ways that life could be different and I told him that if he sobered up, he could have that. He refused to talk to me for a few days after that and now he won’t talk about you at all but I know he’ll listen to you. I know he’ll be happy to see you.”

With a nod, you allow Calum to lead you into the dimly lit bar. It’s too loud, you can feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind your eyes, and you feel severely underdressed as you take in the sight of gorgeous girls in beautiful dresses. However, you don’t allow yourself to dwell on them. You scan the crowd for Ashton and frown when you catch sight of him with a friend you’ve never liked.

It pains you to see the state that he’s in. He’s disheveled, his hair a mess and his shirt rumpled. He looks as if he hasn’t slept in days and it pains you to think that he probably hasn’t. You glance over at Calum to find him already looking at you.

“He’s spiraling,” he repeats as an explanation before he gestures you forward.

Calum leads you through the throngs of people to the table at the back of the room. Ashton doesn’t notice the two of you until you’re standing in front of him and even then, it takes a moment for him to recognize you both. When he does, he stares at you, confusion clear on his face.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you explain as you lean into him to be heard over the music. “I wanted to see you. Can we talk somewhere else?”

He looks suspicious, as if he’s remembering the last conversation you had, before he glances at Calum. In an effort to convince him that he should follow you, Calum shouts, “Remember what you told me? You had something to say to her.”

Ashton stares blankly for a moment before he nods and moves to stand from his seat. He wobbles on his feet and falls back onto the plush bench, giggles leaving his lips as he does so. You frown and glance at Calum from the corner of your eye only to find him moving into help you get Ashton up.

“That’s it,” you murmur as he allows you and Calum to help him, “nice and slow. Do you want to go to your place? We can talk. You can tell me what it is you need to tell me and I’ll make coffee for you.”

Ashton stares at you, a blank look on his face, before he nods slowly. “Yeah,” he shouts over the music, the word slurred and nearly impossible for him to get out, “coffee.”

Calum avoids your look of desperation before he begins moving. He helps you get Ashton through the crowd and out the front door. It takes far longer than it should have and you’re wondering exactly how you’re going to get Ashton out of the car on your own but after you close the passenger door, Calum informs you, “I’ll follow you there. I haven’t had anything to drink tonight. I wanted to keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll meet you at his place, then,” you agree as you breathe a heavy sigh. “I hate seeing him like this, Cal.”

“I know,” he nods solemnly. “It’s hard. We just have to hope that something gets through to him before it’s too late.”

The two of you stand in silence for a long moment before you hear Ashton tap on the glass of the passenger window and startle you back to reality. As you round the car, Calum pretends to return to the bar. The moment you pull out of the parking lot, he’s following behind.

The ride to Ashton’s place is silent. He seems to be slipping in and out of consciousness and it hurts your heart to see him like this. His forehead is pressed to the glass, his hair is matted with sweat, and the circles beneath his eyes are nearly black. His cheeks look gaunt and his eyes look glassy and dull and it feels like you’re staring at a bad caricature of the man you fell in love with.

Thankfully, the streets are relatively quiet (for the city) and this allows you to get to his home relatively quickly. As you pull into his driveway, Ashton seems to regain some of his abilities and unbuckles his seatbelt the moment you stop the car. You quickly cut the engine and rush around the vehicle to help him out as you realize he won’t wait for Calum. Instead, you allow him to lean heavily on you and wrap his arms around your waist as you fish into the pocket of his jeans for his keys.

You half expect him to make a witty comment, something the Ashton you’re used to would’ve done without fail, but he doesn’t. It’s as if he’s not even aware you’re touching him as you pull the keyring from his pocket and unlock his front door. You guide him to the couch and allow him to fall onto the plush material as you head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

“Can you drink some of this for me?” you ask as you kneel onto the floor beside the couch and reach out to brush the hair from his face. “I’ll make some coffee after you drink some water.”

Ashton stares at you, blinking slowly, before he slurs, “I love you. I have for a long time. I just didn’t realize it.”

“Please don’t,” you whisper as you settle back onto the carpet and pull your knees to your chest. “Don’t say you love me, Ash,” you breathe as you watch his eyes flutter shut, “not right now.”

“No time like the present,” he breathes, his hand reaching blindly for you. “You’re here. I love you.”

Before you can respond, a hand touches your shoulder and you’re relieved to find Calum standing there. He frowns, a look of concern in his eyes, but you shake your head. “Calum’s here, Ash,” you whisper. “He’s going to stay with you. I have to work early in the morning. Try to drink some water, okay?”

“Don’t,” Ashton breathes, opening his eyes slowly as if the task takes more energy than usual. “Don’t leave. I love you.”

“I have to go,” you breathe, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “But Calum will take good care of you, okay?”

“Everyone leaves,” he murmurs, his voice slurred and heavy as he turns his head away from you and Calum. “’S’okay. Be like them. You don’t really love me.”

You want to argue, to tell him that you do love him, but you know that he won’t believe you. Not in this state. So, with a deep breath, you push yourself up from the floor and wipe the few tears that have fallen with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I do love you, Ash,” you whisper as you reach out to touch his shoulder. He shrugs you off and you shake your head as Calum reaches out for you.

“Be careful,” you remind him quietly. “Take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he responds, sounding like a petulant child. You know it’s the hurt, the anger and the sadness speaking, but it still hurts to hear him say that. Unfortunately, he continues. “You don’t care. You’re leaving. Leave and stay gone. I’ll be fine on my own.”

You want to stay, you want to return to your seat on the floor and promise him that you won’t go anywhere, but you know that this won’t help. So you tell him, “I can’t stay, Ash. You know that. I can’t watch you do this to yourself, Ashton. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have a problem,” he repeats, sounding much like he did a few weeks prior. “It’s your problem, not mine. You just want to leave. Don’t make excuses.”

“I’m sorry, Ashton,” you repeat quietly as you brush past Calum. “I love you.” You pause for a moment, just in the hallway, and call, “Take care of him, Cal. I’m sorry.”

You don’t wait to hear Calum’s response. Instead, you rush out of Ashton’s house and into the cool night air. You’re afraid of what the future will bring for him, for all of you, and it hurts to leave him like this. However, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it. You can’t force someone to change.

He’s not ready and you understand but you’re afraid that by the time he is, it’ll be too late.

Author’s Note: I haven’t written in what seems like fifty years. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write. When you read this, I’m in class. Leave me feedback to return to? Also, I’m v into Chase Atlantic lately and almost titled this Swim or Triggered because, like. Those two songs are great. Okay, bye. Also, Emmi. I know this probably isn’t what you pictured with that request but this is where it went. I’ll make up for it with the smut, I hope.

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somekeepsakes · 5 years

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(source, full translation under the cut)

Peter Doherty: On the way to peace of mind

For years, Pete Doherty appeared in the gossip columns of the tabloid media mainly due to his substance abuse and various scandals. Since his last rehab stint, the 40-year-old has been concentrating on music, tours and new friendships. With his Puta Madres he recently presented the new album in the fully sold out Wiener WUK – and told us about the changes in his life in a thoughtful and focussed manner during a pre-show interview.

He’s got his issues with age. On March 12, Peter – formerly Pete – Doherty celebrated his 40th birthday but he’s reluctant to talk about his official entry into midlife. But what does midlife mean anyway? Some years ago, one wouldn’t have thought it to be possible for the professed and long-time (ex-)junkie to even see 30. Heroin, cocaine, crack cocaine, ketamine, weed - plus tons of alcohol. Drug addiction, drug abuse, drug possession, drug trafficking. Prison sentences, rehab attempts, scandalous on-and-off relationships with Kate Moss and various other women of the artistic and cultural world. Fans worship him as the revolutionary hero of British indie music who will have his irrevocable place in all history books first with The Libertines and then with Babyshambles, while critics dislike his drug-addled fickleness, his often harsh appearances on stage and also deny him any musical talent.

Eccentric and self-destructive Like every great rock star, Doherty polarises society. He takes the liberty to cancel gigs on short notice due to excessive drug abuse, to behave like a teenager on stage and to interrupt good gigs for a seemingly infinite period of time out of pure provocation. But Doherty is a brilliant spirit with a lot of sensitivity and a pure heart, too. Like the crumbling dandy he never wanted to be, with a rustic image that stretches like a veil over his whole life. He dropped out of his English Literature degree in London in his first year because he got to know Carl Barât through his sister, with whom he not only shared the love for music, verse, and poetry but also for eccentric self-destruction. These two creative talents shone beyond all borders, and – all in the tradition of great British writers and poets – consciously fled into scandals and excesses in order to fight their inner demons.

"I've always wanted to write novels. Don't get me wrong, I draw a lot of joy from music," he explains to the "Krone" in an interview, "but in my heart of hearts I dream myself into a world of poetry and literature. Songwriting sometimes seems simply too easy to me". If the income from music is sufficient, Doherty sees himself creating fiction without much pressure in a deserted area in Spain, preferably Barcelona,. The European globetrotter has already spent weeks and months in Krefeld, Hamburg, Barcelona and London, but also many nights and days in the Viennese Flex as well as in his beloved city of Graz. As global and all-encompassing as his unsteady life goes, his new band, the Puta Madres, was recruited in the same manner a few years ago. Musicians from Spain, England, Ireland, Wales and France are part of it. A pan-European overall concept that doesn’t only stand for common creativity, but also for mutual support, love and help.

Cooperation and communication He met drummer Rafa while camping in Barcelona whereas bassist Miggles was homeless in France for a while. "We are self-imposed outcasts so to speak", he thoughtfully explains the band, "it's easy to find a place in this ordinary world, but if I stay too long in it, something inside me dies. It's always about the killer instinct or the survival of the fittest, but that's not the nature of man. What people need to survive, and have needed for hundreds of thousands of years, are cooperation and communication. All that brings us forward in society is solidarity." Doherty finds this kind of solidarity in his new, multinational conglomerate. A group of passionate artists and musicians who are not averse to exuberant excess, but far removed from Doherty's past self-destructive side. He’s been clean for almost four years, but it will never be possible to get him out of the downward spiral of various addictive substances.

Their exciting and varied debut album was wrongly treated with contempt in German-speaking countries. Even if the rock'n'roll attitude of The Libertines or Babyshambles may be missing, Doherty is at his most honest and self-reflective alongside his gang of rascals. In "Someone Else To Be" he even talks about the ever-growing desire to be someone else and consciously quotes his idols Velvet Underground and Oasis. "Things outside my bands have always been negatively connoted with me, it had hardly anything to do with the music itself. I'm particularly proud of this album because it's probably my first album ever that I can listen to without feeling confused." More than ever his love for folk, country blues, Leonard Cohen and Gram Parsons stands out in songs like "All At Sea", "Travelling Tinker" or "Shoreleave". "I used to turn off the mic when recording and played on. This time, we also recorded this fun."

Peace in life After so many turbulent years, Doherty has found peace and seclusion in the placid coastal town of Margate with its 50,000 inhabitants. There’s enough space for the dogs to run, the fresh and cool sea breeze is just as good for the salvation of the soul as the self-chosen form of loneliness, which not only inspires creativity, but also health and feeling. "I like many places, I feel very much at ease in your region or Bavaria. But I would prefer to live somewhere isolated in an ancient house on a hill with a forest and connected to the sea. But Margate is a wonderful place for me. I'm just at home watching movies with Humphrey Bogart and Edward G. Robinson. That's heaven for me." Age may cause a lack of ease for Doherty, slowly but surely, however, he also seems to find peace in his life.

#Pete Doherty

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thisisusuallyatearjerker · 6 years

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S2:E8 “Number One”

“My heart broke and shattered.”

This was my precursor before I started this week’s episode. My friend had texted me to forewarn me of the heartache that was to come. Honestly, the title of the episode says it all. Kevin Pearson is “Number One”. He is the firstborn, the first among his siblings to learn how to walk, and a series of successions of firsts. This episode is all about Kevin and it gives the audience a glimpse of how deeply troubled he is by further exploring his “coming of age” story.

Everyone, at one point or another, in their lives has been at their lowest point. Forget about showering, push away those who are closest to you, and maybe give your hotel maid, Martina, a hard time for disturbing your escape from reality. And, your sense of time? Yeah, that has been thrown out the window. Kevin is so incredibly lost. The past couple episodes lead up to his inevitable downfall to his addiction to Vicodin and alcohol. His self-sabotage demeanor is a clear coping mechanism to his father’s death. The episode is riddled with flashbacks of some of Kevin’s final moments with Jack. In some instances, Kevin’s perception of reality is blurred with the past and it’s the people who he loves the most and has lost who speak to him from his past: Jack and Sophie. He never truly allowed himself to grieve for the loss of his father, nor for the loss of his true love.

Kevin is extremely aware of his strengths and his weaknesses. When he gave his alumni honor speech, it was a cry for help. However, because he is outwardly successful and extremely charismatic, his emotional and mental needs are missed by the general public, and also at times by the ones who love him and know him well. It had been more or less twenty years since he last stepped foot on his high school’s football field. It was on that field where he experienced his first great challenge and loss. There, he lays out a play-by-play commentary of his last twenty years, highlighting his downs with a facade of ups. It’s his sense of awareness that makes me want to believe that he wants help in the worst possible way. Right before it breaks for a commercial, a young staff member at his former high school finds him on the field and invites him to a party. My heart clenched in anticipation because Kevin has a cyclic self-destructing pattern that is just the worst.

It comes back to Kevin, presumably naked, in bed with a woman. I breathed a sigh of relief because it wasn’t the young staff member, but I definitely SMH’d because the other woman was a former classmate who was also a recognized alumnus. Kevin, ARE YOU SERIOUS?! She shared a high school memory she had of Kevin that indicated what a great guy he was. It really made me wonder how much of his father’s death impacted his future life decisions because Kevin was in such awe and disbelief by this memory. Not so much because he didn’t think it was true, but more so having zero recollection of it just reminded him how far he had fallen and how lost he had become. Just when I think it couldn’t get worse, it does! Kevin excuses himself to use her restroom where he sifts through her medicine cabinet for pain meds. He couldn’t find any, so he lies about needing food for his low blood sugar levels. She goes downstairs to get food, which leaves him alone to go through her belongings. Lo and behold, he discovers her script pad. Did I forget to mention that she’s a doctor? Oh, my goodness... and it just dawned on me that this may have been why he chose the former classmate as opposed to the young staff member! His downward spiral as an addict is only too real capturing the lengths he would go to get his next fix. Anyways, he rips a page off her pad, gets dressed, and leaves without saying goodbye.

When he’s at the pharmacy, he realizes that he’s not wearing the pendant Jack gave him. This pendant means the world to him and his reaction to not having it is completely understandable. The show has made many minor references about the pendant and it’s truly Kevin’s only connection to Jack. This episode also flashbacks to when Jack gives Kevin the pendant. What Jack says about knowing that Kevin will, too, find his purpose really got to me. He is witnessing his son having to endure an extremely arduous emotional task of discarding his football dreams forever. Jack explains that he received the pendant at a time when he was extremely lost. To pass down this necklace from one saga of hopelessness to the next also strongly contributes to the fact that Jack and Kevin are foil characters. Their addictions, their need to prove their “manliness”, and both having to navigate all of their adult lives without a father figure are unmistakably parallel with each other.

Kevin rushes back to his former classmates' home to retrieve his pendant. When she denies him entry, his cry for help... this is where my heart broke. His voice is completely raw and his words are choked with emotion. He has succumbed to his weakness and is on his knees, crying out to whoever will hear him. It is his father who prevents him from doing something stupid and it is also because of his father that he is crying out for help. Kevin witnessed his father go through the 12-Steps, and a part of me wonders if Kevin doesn’t believe that he’s as strong as Jack to get through his addiction. Kevin has a complex about doubting himself. William, in the first season, was very quick to pick up on it. When Kevin begins to question himself, it is not an easy task to bring him out of his hole of self-doubt.

The last scene... Kevin arrives on Randall’s doorstep and, again, is making an attempt to cry out for help. He is wanting to confess to Randall his dirty, hidden secret and says that he has something to tell him. To which, Randall replies that he already knows. The camera pans to Kevin, and you can honestly see Kevin react and his body just caves in. It appears as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Finally, someone else to share this burden! Finally, he can get the help that he craves. But...

PLOT TWIST

Randall tells Kevin that Kate and Toby lost their baby :(

Again, Kevin finds himself in a situation where the issues of his siblings overshadow his own needs. It will be interesting to see how Kevin handles this news in seeking his own path to recovery.

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daveywankenobie · 4 years

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As I write it’s dark and cold outside – but the days seem to be just a teensy bit longer all of a sudden.

It’s no illusion. The shortest one of the year (Sunday the 22nd of December) is now behind us – and from this point on the UK will only get lighter and the days longer.

I can almost feel the warmth of summer on my back.

That’s partially because (despite a rocky few weeks) I actually had a really active and on plan second half to the month.

It got worse before it started to get better though, because when I stepped on the scales at home on the 15th of this month (after some hefty emotional eating) they greeted me with a somewhat sobering 17st 9.5lbs.

I knew what was going on.

I’ve been quiet for a reason.

As well as encountering some unexpected health worries (which seem for the time being to be OK) the whole issue of not finding work has been eating away at my self confidence, and I’ve found it very hard indeed to not hibernate or eat away the upset it’s been causing.

That’s not to say that I’m not taking positive steps mind you. I’ve been working through a couple of self help books and looking at understanding what I really want rather than what I feel I have no choice about and should apply for.

It’s not easy though when you’v been turned down four times in a row for jobs that you know would be a walk in the park – but I guess if nothing else it’s character forming, and what will be will be.

It’s also Christmas, nobody is hiring and Brexit looms.

Even the job sites that were previously spamming me with unhelpful adverts have dried up over the last three to four weeks, and my inbox is mercifully devoid of mail reminding me that I’m not proving to be particularly successful in this area.

However – back to the scales.

Free from the self imposed guilt of being over target as man of the year I have now instituted a new regime.

I have up until recently focusing on my new project – which is feeling guilty about an out of target ex-man of the year.

The former guilt was because I should be a positive example of a man with a title and the latter because I don’t want to be seen to have ‘let myself go’ after everyone believed in me and looked to me for inspiration.

Sigh.

One day maybe I’ll stop doing this to myself…

However I know I’m not alone in such quagmires of spiralling thoughts – and it seems that as much as I’ve been amazed by the capability of fellow slimmers to change their shapes and life outcomes I’ve also been encouraged that they too struggle like heck at some time or another when it comes to maintenance.

Practically everyone of them I know (or just follow on social media) has posted some epic gains followed by a correspondingly epic loss – and almost everyone that’s achieved a measure of success is now differnent to the weight they were when they held aloft their local or national awards.

I’m not alone – so why feel any shame?

Thankfully at the moment I’m not.

Over the last two weeks I’ve managed to lose an entire stone (even though it doesn’t look like that in my book) and it’s been through sheer hard work and effort.

Dropping weight over Christmas has been a challenge though – and I’m not going to lie – this could have gone either way. During the last week I ate Stollen, Gingerbread, Cheese, Christmas cake, biscuits, an entire layer of chocolates from a box of Milk tray and a rather hefty roast and three mincemeat wraps on Christmas day.

I’ll be honest – had I been on my own I might not have celebrated this way – but this has been my very first traditional Christmas as ‘family’ (or probably more accurately a ‘couple’) and as such I really wanted to enjoy the experience as everyone else does.

With great food and awful jumpers.

The fact is though that whilst I enjoyed myself as much as I felt I could I also limited damage elsewhere as much as humanly possible (although it may not sound like it) as well as doing a rather epic amount of exercise.

Although I consumed a lot of naughty food on the 25th I also went for a TEN MILE WALK through the wilds of Warwickshire to make up for it.

If I add my daily active (anything I burn with exercise) and standard (2500kcal for an adult male) calorie burn together then I’ve been averaging around 4500 per day for the last two weeks, which is the main reason I lost weight after packing away cheese and cake.

A lot of this was due to swimming – which once again has proven to be my absolute saviour. This has been particularly gratifying when I look back on it because despite my reluctance to don my trunks and look like a human muffin in the mornings ( I hadn’t been for almost two whole weeks) I did it anyway.

It’s not been the only exercise I’ve engaged in though – and I’ve relied on an old friend to fill the gaps for me when the pool has been closed. My walking distance has remained consistently higher and at averaged over 10 miles a day for two weeks as well – despite driving to Sussex and back on Monday.

So – life is (for the moment at least) on an even dietary keel again.

Both myself and my better half are really in the zone at the moment – and she has been swimming alongside me every day as well.

It’s fair to say that her determination to improve both her swimming technique and stamina have been something of an inspiration to me – and on Sunday I found myself watching her swimming back and forth in the pool well after I’d stopped.

Consequently her loss over the xmas week was greater than mine (2.5lbs!!!) and she really deserved it.

I’ve been positively swelling with pride as I’ve watched her get better and better at swimming through sheer determination and grit – and there’s no small amount of warm fuzzy feelings inside me at the moment.

Christmas this year has been special in a way that no other Christmas has because although I’ve had long term partners before not a single one has ever resulted in a Christmas together prior to this point.

There’s always been a family reason or a break up to get in the way of that before and consequently words absolutely fail me when I try to encapsulate how much December 2019 has meant to me.

It’s not been about materialism or nerdy presents (of which there have actually been quite a few thanks to a new and very generous extended family) – but togetherness.

This manifested itself recently when we both headed out to see a new film – and both of us chose appropriate attire for the occasion.

It’s hard to overstate how much love a geeky guy can feel when he’s accompanied on a school night to a one minute past midnight screening of Star Wars by an adult woman not only voluntarily (and dare I say enthusiastically) wearing a Star Wars teeshirt but also a crochet’d Yoda ears beanie.

I’m sure that everyone out there is already throwing up in their mouth a little bit – but I’m sorry – I have absolutely zero shame on this score because we totally owned it in The Rise of Skywalker.

My Christmas has been everything that I’ve always wanted it to be but never dared to hope it ever would be.

For the longest time it looked like the picture below, and because of my habitual behaviour on this score I never once managed to get to the end of ET The Extra Terrestrial on TV.

In contrast this year the strongest drink I’ve indulged in is a caramel flavoured coffee, and I’ve not been alone and sad for a single moment.

I’ve shared the walks, talks and occasion with someone I care deeply about. Together we’ve continuously supported one another whenever we’ve hit bumps in the road and continue to do so.

Sigh. Over the last few days I’ve been reflecting on my happiness – but also on my past.

That bottle of Southern Comfort seems a long long way away now and it’s been a long time since this was my reality.

Other people may still be in a darker place though and as I type I’m conscious of this.

At this time of year there are many people on the cusp of giving up hope that life will ever hold anything for them but loneliness or despair. They suffer in silence and often succumb to darker voices that hide inside.

As well as hearing of other slimmers that have struggled recently I’ve also read about those that have been moved to other, maybe more destructive forms of self harm in the past and because of this as I write I’m left feeling sober in more ways than one.

There was a time that I felt similarly and when I sat alone at home (not just around Christmas time) there were many many moments when I no longer wanted to be around.

Had I been ‘braver’ (stupider?) I may have crossed a line that would have seriously curtailed my time on earth.

I contemplated this more than once – and now (on the wrong side of my forties) I have so much to be grateful for.

I’m left at times feeling as if I have no right to be as happy as I am – like I’ve stolen the joy that must belong to someone else, because there are moments that it all still feels very alien.

Life though is all about context – and finding this to gain perspective is something we all struggle to do.

There are many of us who (despite there often being much evidence to the contrary) choose to label ourselves as ‘lonely’, ‘overweight’, ‘failure’, ‘alcoholic’, ‘addict’, ‘loser’, ‘stupid’, ‘weird’, or consider ourselves simply ‘unlovable’.

With the new year looming, and many people who read my blog coming from similar places to the one I did (physically and emotionally) all I can say is that there is hope.

If you’ve followed (or are just beginning to follow) my journey then I want you to see and feel what I feel and see. Hopefully if you’ve travelled with me through both the light and the dark moments in the last four years then I’ll have left you with a sense of positivity and optimism.

Maybe your life isn’t going the way that you wanted it to – but in this blog is all the evidence that you need that it can surprise you.

With effort and determination you can change things – and good vibrations sent out into the world inevitably come back when you least expect them to but most need them.

Life is a collection of moments where you can fail more often than not – where it’s easy to think there’s no point – or convince yourself that people don’t need you around, when in fact they really really do.

They gain as much from having you in their lives as you do from having them in yours.

Although I’m not into sport particularly I can’t help thinking of a quote from Wayne Gretsky – the Canadian former professional ice hockey player and former head coach of their National team.

He’s probably said a lot of forgettable things – but one that for some reason really struck me was this one.

‘You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take.’

It’s true.

If you don’t try to be better then it won’t happen by magic.

So – 2020 is fast approaching.

What do you want it to be?

Personally I’d like it to contain everything you desire and need and wholeheartedly believe that it can do if you want it enough.

So – what are you waiting for?

Get up, put your coat on and make it happen.

Davey

100 percent of the shots As I write it's dark and cold outside - but the days seem to be just a…

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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 7 years

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Blog in which Anne Hathaway is a Giant Tree Monster (AKA: Secret-Diary Reviews ‘Colossal’).

Right. Righty. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. I recently watched the film Colossal, and I have a lot of thoughts about it. It’s very important that you sit down, shut up and hear all of them.

My initial reaction to Colossal can be summed up as “yeah: that was a fun way to spend 1 hour and 50 minutes.” It’s funny in a low-key, quirky kind of way and the protagonist (Gloria- played by Anne Hathaway) is likeable and relatably fucked-up enough that it’s easy to care about her. Oh, and there’s giant monsters in it, which is always nice. It’s a good film- there’s no denying that. If you want a fun way to squander some time that will make you feel vaguely intelligent by association (because its an indie thing rather than typical block-buster fare), then go ahead and knock yourself out: this is the film for you.

However, the more I think about Colossal, the more off it feels. It’s like someone put all the elements of a good film together, but not necessarily in the right order.

OK. Before I can review it, I need to spoil it completely. Sorry. If you already know the plot, just feel free to skip this paragraph. It’s basically just a synopsis. Gloria (once again, played by Anne Hathaway) is an alocholic, out-of-work writer who gets kicked out by her boyfriend and returns to her hometown, ostensibly to rethink her like but, in reality, to get shitfaced on a nightly basis. While doing that, she reconnects with an old friend from childhood (I can’t remember his name, so we’ll just call him Neckbeard), whose behaviour seems slightly creepy and manipulative from the get-go. While Neckbeard is situating himself as Gloria’s patron-slash-enabler, Gloria herself discovers that, when she stumbles home drunk through a particular part of town, a giant tree monster materialises in Seoul in Korea and mimics her movements. She lets Neckbeard in on the secret and inadvertantly kills hundreds of people in the process. Neckbeard discovers that when he enters that bit of town, a giant robot shows up in Seoul and mimics his movements. Gloria tries to stop him making the giant robot appear in case someone gets hurt and his behaviour escalates from slightly offputting to abusive and violent. Oh, and he makes his giant robot deliberately go on a killing spree, because of course he does. Inevitably, Gloria is forced to kill him using her crazy giant tree monster powers. Then she stumbles into the nearest bar so that the film can spend its final sixty seconds hanging a lampshade on the fact that she’s still an alcholic.

All caught up? Good- now that I’ve explained the film, I can start picking it to death. Firstly, let’s address the elephant in the room. How come, in a film where all the giant monster action is taking place in Seoul, there isn’t a single named Korean character whose actions have any real impact on the plot? Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me just yet. We’ll be coming back to that a little later. Just ackowledge the room elephant and move on for a minute.

The thing that’s been really bugging me though is infinitely more pedantic and less political: the entire second half of the film was completely avoidable. Let me explain, there’s a scene, right after Neckbeard discovers he can make a giant robot appear in Seoul when tries it out deliberately for the first time... but first he makes sure that there’s no-one in the area surrounding the giant robot appearance site who could get hurt (apparently, there’s an app for that). And there it is: plain as day. Gloria has an opportunity to get away before Neckbeard becomes a full-on abusive arsehole and Neckbeard’s own sense of biting inadequacy is ameliorated by his ability to make a giant robot materialise in Seoul and start breakdancing. Even Seoul gets its own resident giant robot, which has got to be the world’s best tourist attraction. At that point, if Gloria hadn’t decided that Neckbeard Must Not Summon the Giant Robot and started a fight over it, all the awful, harrowing shit from the second half of the film just wouldn’t have happened. Not that I blame Gloria as a character: she’s obvs meant to be traumatised by all the death she caused when she was the giant tree monster, so her reaction is understandable. It’s just that, knowing the whole clusterfuck was easily preventable and could have had a happy ending for all concerned robs the film’s ultimate payoff of any sense of catharsis. Instead of being viscerally satisfied when Neckbeard finally gets killed by a tree monster, I just felt a bit sad and empty. He didn’t have to evolve into the world’s most ginormous douch-kanoo: he could have wiled away his twighlight years boosting Seoul’s tourist trade through the medium of interpretive being-a-giant-robot.

Incidentally, that whole scene raises another nagging complaint. Gloria intervenes to stop Neckbeard doing his giant robot thing, but walking right up to him (meaning that her Tree Monster thing also manifests in Seoul) and slapping him in the face. If that fight had actually escalated, thousands of people in Seoul could have died... which is what Gloria was trying to prevent. She aims to prevent a giant robot killing hundreds of people by starting a fight with that giant robot, which could potentially kill many more people. Not to drag geopolitics into this, but you can tell the characters in this film are Americans, can’t you? Cough cough regime change cough. Seriously, had she been taking ethics lessons from Mass Effect’s Reapers? YOU CAN’T SAVE PEOPLE BY ENDANGERING THEM, DIPSHIT.

Actually, that brings us back to my point about how there are no fully-developed Korean characters in this film where giant monsters are attacking a major Korean city. Throughout the majority of this film, Seoul and people of Seoul don’t really matter: they’re just used as the manifestation of the psychodrama bewteen Gloria and neckbeard. That could be a deliberate comment on the way American popular culture views eastern countries, but it doesn’t feel like it. Maybe the writers just needed to signpost it better. Also, it means that when Neckbeard goes kill-crazy and destroys half of Seoul, instead of being shocked and appalled, I was just kinda hoping for a few juicy shots of the giant robot kicking over buildings. You can’t paint an entire city as nothing more than the backdrop for some mellowdrama between two self-destructive a-holes and then expect your audience to feel emotional when it gets stomped on. That’s not how movies work.

A few other annoyances remain to be addressed, but they don’t really work towards the overall theme of this piece, so I’m just going to splurge them in any order I feel like.

Firstly, there’s the issue of Gloria’s boyfriend (his name is Tim, but you’ll only ever think of him as ‘That Guy from Legion’). He’s way better villain than Neckbeard, but the film does nothing with him. He kicks Gloria out and then stalks her a bit and that’s it... but the subtleties of his behaviour and the way he goes about being a nob make it clear that, if the script had any interest in him whatsoever, he could be a really compelling, hateable villain. Unlike Neckbeard whose name I still can’t fucking remember.

Speaking of which, what fucking idiot came up with Neckbeard’s bad-guy motive. He hates himself and how small his life feels? What is he, a school bully in a 1990s infomercial? Look, we’re told he’s motivated by self-loathing, but we’re never told why. He’s relatively erudite as small-town villains go; he has a circle of friends and owns a respectable little bar; he has good memories of going around setting off illegal fireworks with his bezzies. There’s no compelling reason for him to despise his life other than the fact he lives in a small town and comes from a vaguely working-class backgroud, which just makes the film-makers seem weirdly classist and snobby. I imagine the pitch for this idea went something like this “Oh, of course he hates himself, Baron Fucksmythe: he’s rural and does an ordinary-person job. I mean, I hate him and you hate him- why wouldn’t he hate him.”

Then there’s the guy who hovers in the background for most of the film, then has sex with Gloria, delivers some furniture and fucks off never to be seen again. You know how non-sequiters are usually phrases or jokes that come out of the blue and bear no relation to the rest of the film? Well, Colossal may be the first film to have a whole character be a non-sequiter.

Finally- and I realise this is a trivial thing to piss-and-moan about, but I’m going to anyway- very few alcoholics caught in abysmal self-destructive spirals look like Anne Hathaway. Nobody whose liver is slowly failing them while they pour themselves another round falls asleep against a wall and wakes up with perfect skin, fabulous hair and impeccable (if hipstery) dress-sense.

Colossal is a good movie. Sort of. It’s even got a nice feminist subtext with Gloria realising that many of the men in her life are abusive fuckwads and learning to make herself independent of them. But it undermines itself at every turn. It can’t decide what to focus on. Is it a movie about alcoholism and the psychopathology of addicts and enablers? No, because that plot line never goes anywhere. Is it a movie about abuse and victimisation? Kind of, but there’s so much else going on, it’s hard to feel viscerally invested in that plot-line, so it lacks impact. Is it a comedy movie that tackles multiple issues with a tongue-in-cheek attitude? Sort of, but its not consistently funny enough to get away with it.

The film’s attitude towards small town, rural, working class America and literally the entirity of Korea undermine its progressive, feminist credentals with a faint air of classism and not-quite-racism while its light, quirky comedy creaks audibly under the weight of the hefty subject matter. With a little bit of polishing, these issues could easily have been resolved, and a lot of the film is enjoyable as is. But a bit of tighter focus, better characterisation and a more global attitude would have been very welcome additions.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #colossal

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