#known frank non-fucker

[gerardpilled]

who cares what shirt Frank is wearing can we appreciate man is looking BEEFY

#and this is coming from me #known frank non-fucker

[privateanxieties]

to the shadows, we return

Summary: When Frank goes to the woods of Kentucky in search of Gunner Henderson, you come along for the ride. And when the man you're looking for shoots an arrow at him, well— it isn't Frank that gets hit. Feelings ensue in the aftermath.

Words: 4.4K

Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no y/n); hurt/comfort, fluff, light angst, blood and injury, near death experiences, whumptober 2023

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You can tell the place is liable to be booby trapped all to hell before you've even gotten out of the van.

In a way, that's good. It means you're going to be of use and Frank didn't bring you here for nothing. In another, it's annoying, because you're going to be advancing at a snail's pace the whole way and the November sun is quick in its descent.

What you're here to provide is a one-woman navigation system, courtesy of your tactical training at Quantico. It's not that Frank didn't go through similar procedures; but he doesn't specialize in this type of operation, and he most definitely isn't used to extracting his way out of a predicament delicately. When it comes to these scenarios, he's the blunt object to your scalpel.

Gunner isn't someone you look forward to seeing again, but if you're to survive this whole ordeal, Frank needs to find answers. It sucks that this is what you're doing the first time you've left the bunker in weeks, but at this point you'll take a bear trap over listening to David Lieberman detailing any more Greek legends. Frank orders him to stay put— not that he'd have come with, anyway. Three's a crowd and all that. He seems content with his current level of involvement and you can't blame him for being reluctant to (very likely) get shot at. You're not very keen on it yourself, and knowing Gunner even as little as you do, it's something you worry about more than the traps themselves.

"Let's go before it gets any darker," you say, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. Frank nods, throwing another warning look at David.

The forest is barren this time of year, and an untrained eye might give into a false sense of security. Not a lot of places to hide traps, or at least not very well, a novice might think. Not the case. Gunner, from what you were able to intuit back in Kandahar, is the survivalist type. He's guaranteed to know his way around more than a few… creative snares.

It's not long into your trek inside the forest before you spot the black wire, but its placement is so obvious and exposed that it can't be more than an early-warning system for non-threats. No one looking for traps would trigger this one. It means you're getting close, but not quite close enough that you'd pose any real danger to his territory. Which means anything you encounter from now on will definitely try to take a finger with it. Though, if you're being honest— it's more like a limb or two.

Frank is quiet and cautious behind you, never closer than a three-step interval: the ideal distance for only one of you to get snared if you both happen upon a trap. It's a wonder he's letting you have the lead. If you've known Frank Castle to be anything, then that's a stubborn mule with absolutely no respect for safety. He'll take a bullet both out of stubbornness and sheer disregard for his life. He's old-fashioned like that. The fact that you're somewhat in charge in this particular instance means that he's laser-focused on getting to the bottom of Operation Cerberus. You know he wants the truth more than anything else. It's not just justice for what was done to his family, but for what he himself has done while on the covert task force.

Personally, your only goal is to avoid dying in the name of loose ends. It was somewhat of a miracle that you even survived the hit that made yours and Frank's paths cross again. Distantly, you think you can still feel the tingle in your knuckles from the right hook you served Carson Wolf. You appreciate Frank letting you have that after the fucker blew up your apartment.

Shaking off the chill of the biting November wind, you grit your teeth against the mounting stress of not having found any traps thus far. The place should be crawling with them, which means that if you don't see them, either you're not on the right path or Gunner's contraptions have been detected by others and swiftly removed. He could very well be dead out here and you'd have no idea. It's a grim thought; if that's the case, any information will have died with him.

"Over there," Frank calls in a hushed tone, stopping you in your tracks.

You follow his line of sight to a small shape in the middle distance, and even shielded by trees as it is, you can clearly distinguish the outline of a tiny cabin. Your first thought? You're uncomfortably close to it for no aggression to veer its head. You almost expect something to drop on both your heads from the clear skies, a cartoonish outcome if there ever was one. Before you can open your mouth and voice any of these concerns, however, Frank steps away from you.

"Hey—" you warn, tone sharp, but he only holds up a hand and motions for you to follow him.

You're forced to do so against your sharper instincts. Frank knows Gunner much better than you do. They were on the ground together in Afghanistan, while you did pre-mission recon under Cerberus. The only reason you ever talked to the guy was because you stuck your nose where it didn't belong. You looked for trouble and it found you, at the same time that you found unidentified crates of smuggled weapons, which was decidedly not how the military armed its personnel. Gunner was there. He'd already been onto something, and who knows what else he'd seen. Your piece of the puzzle might be nothing compared to his, and you desperately need it if you want your life back.

Frank, you've gathered, doesn't care much for his own. He moves through the woods carefully, though with an air of nonchalance that worries given the territory. Or maybe it's trust, you figure, because it doesn't take long for him to call out Gunner's name.

"Brother, I just wanna talk!"

The backpack is deposited on a pile of dry leaves, and you watch curiously as Frank also removes his weapon, placing it atop the bag. He motions for you to do the same, and the look you throw him is one of vehement defiance.

"No."

"He needs to see we don't want to hurt him," Frank argues.

"Then I'll wait over here," you return, a grim smile scrunching up your features.

It's not that you want to hurt Gunner, but you are not opposed to it whatsoever if that's the direction this will go.

"He'll think it's an ambush. C'mon, we—" he pauses, looking away and back at you with his mouth turned down. "We came this far. We need to talk to him. Leave the goddamn gun. He's got the advantage anyway," he pleads, though you sense an amount of command in that tone.

He's right that you're out here, exposed, while Gunner could shoot you both through the rickety door or one of the windows of the cabin. You're not comfortable being unarmed, though— you haven't been in years. Although, you suppose, some things are too great to get away from with just the use of a pistol. It sure as shit didn't help when you almost got blown all the way to hell four months ago. A deep sigh from Frank rattles your hesitation. The question in his eyes is tinged with desperation, and for a brief moment, he looks younger than you know he feels. He's not accustomed to asking people for anything, and the slightest doubt on the part of those he asks for help is enough to make him regret ever thinking of it in the first place.

You don't want him to doubt you. You also don't want to make him think you don't trust him, because you do. You woudn't have gotten this far with him and David if you didn't. Sure, you didn't seek them out; they found you and in the process saved your life. Back in the war, your unit relied on you before anyone else. The purpose of reconnaissance is simple: gather intel. Make sure that when you go in, you have a way out. You liked that job and you liked feeling unquestionably needed.

Despite recent revelations, the sting of what happened before you were abruptly sent home is still fresh somehow. It lingers on the surface of your days, waking or slumbering. For almost three years, you lived with the belief that you sent your unit into a death trap, and it took nearly dying for the record to be set straight. What happened in Kandahar, that last mission that killed more than half of the Cerberus unit— it wasn't on you. It wasn't on you, and yet guilt isn't easy to do away with.

It's the same kind of guilt you're witnessing in Frank right now, with his brows pulled so tight that a deep ridge has formed between them. He's restless and full of regret, and that's what makes your decision barrel into you. You simply don't want to add the fact of your company to that list for him. If you're going to be here, you might as well be the support he needs.

Nodding somewhat unconvincingly — because you're still dreading this — you copy his actions and discard your backpack and weapon next to his own, at once feeling more uneasy than you have in a long time. The gratitude you can sense in his relaxing posture is a little too much to bear, so you settle for diffusing the tension with a warning.

"If he shoots you, I will leave your ass here."

Frank bites back a reply you can guess almost word for word, but his face tells the story his lips won't: yeah, sure you will. It's comforting to know that he at least trusts you not to abandon him, at the same time that the thought feels heavy considering your history. You owe him in more than one regard, but that's not truly why you wouldn't leave him, even to save yourself. Frank is pretty much the only family you've got left. You didn't have many people in your life to begin with, and he's lost the most important ones to rogue government dealings. The only way you'll be removed from his side is if either he is dead or you are. It's funny, the way you grow attached to someone while living in a shithole bunker and hiding from men who want to kill you.

The sun inches lower as you approach the cabin, gaze firmly set on the windows. It's instinctive to watch them, though you aren't neglecting your surroundings either. Frank calls out towards the house again, taking cautious steps to close the distance. You follow in a mirror of your previous formation, no more than three steps behind him.

The place appears desolate, but the trail of smoke from a minuscule chimney is all the sign of life you need to confirm someone else's recent presence. You're now less than ten feet away from the door, and all of a sudden your muscles go stiff. You scan the trees around you for anything you might have missed, but they are free of threats and as barren as the furnishings you can glimpse inside the cabin when you turn to look over Frank's shoulder. The wet crunch of the leaves beneath your boots is dampened by Frank calling out again.

"C'mon Gunner, it's Frank!"

Once close enough, he takes a peek inside one of the smaller windows to the right, and you take your place at his side so that you both line the wall in the least vulnerable positions. Frank, however, is taking more chances than you think he ought to by looking so unabashedly through the windows on the left side.

"Gunner!"

"Hey—" you whisper, realizing immediately how stupid that is. It's not like you haven't announced your presence plenty. "Frank, get away from the goddamn windows."

"He's a good man. He's not going to shoot me. Right, Gunner?" he says in the same tone and volume, making you turn away so you can roll your eyes in privacy, knowing Frank has a bit of a sore spot for that. It's all you have time to do, anyway, because once you've widened your field of vision, you spot a shape that wasn't there just a minute ago.

It's funny how the body can respond to stimuli before the brain has even processed them, and it's even funnier how it chooses to do things without any input whatsoever from logic or reason. Self-preservation has no business here, is what your body seems to have decided is the working philosophy for today.

Consequently, you're pushing Frank down and out of the way before you even realize you've moved. The pain, for its part, is not without delay either. Your scream echoes through the woods and you register it as if it's not your own, but some distant sound — and then you're looking down at your shoulder and realizing exactly what hit you. It makes sense that it's a carbon arrow, you think, because anything else would've been snapped in two by the force of the compound bow now aimed at you both.

You cry out when Frank's arm winds around you and hauls you to your feet, dragging you behind the nearest wall and out of the line of fire, but not before another arrow embeds itself in the window frame next to his head. He sets you down with more care this time, and though you're a bit out of it, you don't miss the sheer emotion in his face. It goes hand in hand with the lightning-sharp pain filtering through your veins and making reason depart swiftly. It's why your fingers begin to grasp at the arrow's shaft, ready and willing to expel it from your body without hesitation. They're only stopped by Frank's own hand, gently but firmly guiding yours back down to rest on your stomach.

"Gunner, goddamn it—" Frank shouts, so close to you that you can feel the vibration of his rough tone. "You proud of yourself, huh? You just shot an unarmed woman!"

This time, the eye roll is in full view and you want him to see it.

And why is it that I'm unarmed, Frank?

You don't say that, though you want to. There's something in Frank's eyes that tells you his mental state right now is veering towards self-blame, and he's not the one responsible for this outcome. The guns, however— those are his fault.

You're both defenseless.

And just like that, you're suddenly scared. It doesn't creep up on you like usual, where you wait and wait until the signs are clear that the future will hold unpleasant things. This fear is cold and dense like the woods around you. The woods you might die in. A whimper flows past your lips as your eyes go wide.

Frank takes notice in an instant.

"Shh, hey— Look at me, right at me."

His palm has cupped the side of your face, warming it up against the surging chill of the forest and giving you something to fixate on to stave off the ensuing panic. It's too bad you close your eyes so you can fully focus on the texture of his skin, because the jolt that comes in response is none too gentle. Frank is shaking you awake.

"Hey! Don't you do that. You hear? Don't close your eyes. Keep 'em on me. Just focus on me, sweetheart."

You try for reassurance through touch, but this is a mistake, you soon realize. When your hand comes up to brush along Frank's cheek, it's with distant horror that you notice it's your right hand. You are moving your right hand, because that is the only one that you can move without blinding pain.

Which means the arrow has found a home in your left shoulder. Your left shoulder, not far above your heart.

"Frank—"

He can see you looking. He can probably see how terrified you've become.

And he, in turn, becomes terrifying.

The next time he calls out Gunner's name, you don't hear Frank Castle. You only witness his shadow being left behind as the Punisher comes forward. And then you get swallowed by your own shadows.

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It's a silly little dream— of that, you're certain. But it doesn't mean you can't enjoy the brush of the soft blanket under you or the gentle carding of fingers through your hair.

The warmth of the air borders on unpleasant, and you might be sweating a little more than you'd want in this scenario, but overall you wouldn't trade it for the world, being here with him. Calm. Unhurried. Ignorant of all discomfort, even as your arm has gone numb from lying on your side, gazing at the fire. Well, maybe occasionally at the fire. Mostly, you're just looking at him.

Tracing the contours of his face with your eyes and wishing your fingers could follow, you take everything in as a light euphoria settles over you. His skin is lit up by the wash of warmth from the fire, each imperfection softened— or perhaps that's your eyes' doing, wistfully hooded and completely unashamed in their observation. It feels like gazing upon him for the first and last time, like you're only truly seeing him now that he might disappear. There's a weight in your chest, neither pleasant nor concerning.

Then, his lips are on your cheek and reality slips away. You forget that this is just a dream the moment his mouth trails over your jaw and down the column of your neck, and your eyes fall blissfully closed. He's touching you everywhere, the reassuring press of his body to yours further melting every muscle and easing every current of something like pain travelling through your chest and down your arm. Absent any willpower, you lose grasp of words that aren't his name and thoughts not curved around this moment. You're as relaxed as you can be.

That's when the screaming begins.

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Curtis should really make some kind of declaration soon, or he's going to lose his goddamn mind.

He hasn't said anything the entire time he's been working and— Frank trusts him. He trusts Curt with his life. But it isn't his life on the line right now, and worst of all, it should've been. It should've been him taking that arrow to the chest and bearing it only an inch away from his heart. It should've been him, delirious with sepsis and burning from a killer fever. It always should've been just him in those woods. Only him.

It's his fault. It always is. People always die at his side or because of shit he's done. He always drags them to hell with him, and they never make the journey back together. Only he ever emerges from that blackened pit, crawling out on a bruised soul to fight another day, and the carnage left behind is made up of enemies and loved ones alike.

He's a fucking plague. He's—

"Frank. I need you to focus, brother."

His eyes are wide and gaze distant; he notices that immediately upon Curt's warning, but it's hard to bring his expression under control. It's equally hard to keep his eyes focused, because they will fix themselves upon the only thing in the room that matters and his thoughts will spiral soon thereafter.

Frank's never seen anyone look so frail. He's had comrades die out in the field. He's held onto Curt while the corpsman was in the worst pain of his life — his fucking fault, again — and he's witnessed the worst crimes of humanity against one another. He's perpetrated some of those crimes. Yet everything always happened in the blink of an eye. Everyone he's ever lost, he's lost quickly. In each of the worst moments he's ever lived through, there was none of this waiting, and the hands of the clock didn't spit and curse at him for daring to have hope.

She's been looking worse by the hour. Ever since Curt got here, the medic has had to restrain him from doing something stupid like calling an ambulance. It's a wonder Lieberman managed to make the tough decision and drive them all back here, instead of going to a hospital like Frank demanded. Threatened. Gently asked with his finger on the trigger.

But David was right— it would've been over for them all if they went to an ER. The people that want to kill them would encounter no problems taking out one of their targets while she's unconscious and defenseless in a hospital bed. Frank would be arrested, if not shot on sight. And David would soon follow after them both. So, they're here.

And Frank is still losing his mind as time drags forward and the blood keeps dripping. He keeps an eye on the line between her arm and Lieberman's, delivering the life-saving substance at a pace controlled by Curtis. David's a universal donor, a fact that almost makes Frank believe in some higher power. With odds this stacked against him, it's a miracle he gets this one kindness.

Don't let her die.

The thought startles him briefly, since he meant not to ask. The words manifested from seemingly nowhere, a little echo of them bouncing around his mind. Frank doesn't have any illusions of a higher power granting him leniency, even if one exited. If anything, his mere involvement here, the fact that he cares— might be enough to entice whoever's out there to just deal him another blow, no matter who gets swallowed up in the process.

Either God doesn't exist, or he does and is an asshole. No third way around it, in Frank's view.

An hour passes, then another. Lieberman is recovering on the cot at the edge of the bunker, now with almost a fifth less blood running through his veins. Frank says nothing about how if it was necessary, it could've been more than a fifth. Substantially more— all of it, even. He's not sure Curt would approve of this perspective… murdering a man with a family just so he doesn't lose his again. He'd do it. He would. He'd do anything, he decides on a quiet exhale.

When exactly his heart made the decision to latch on this tightly — both hands, it recalls — he isn't sure and he doesn't care. What's done is done, and boy was it done without his fucking approval. It terrifies more than comforts him, the fact that he is still able to feel like this after everything he's been through. It also frustrates him, despite his best efforts, because he can't seem to let it go. Part of him knows it's because he can't escape it or her, since they're in this together. There's nowhere for him to run, no place to crawl to and wait out these feelings; they're both stuck on the other side of lives they used to have, leaning on each other for support they never ever asked for.

And why in the goddamn hell did she—

A groan. Quiet, almost inaudible to anyone whose ears aren't listening for any sign of pain. His heart jumps, and he's on his feet in less than a second. On the other side of the room, Curt startles.

"Frank—"

He blinks down at her form, eyes flitting over the bandages and blood and fragile skin.

"Frank, come on—"

"Did you give her something?" he grunts, almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. It's rougher than even he is used to.

"What?" Curt asks, taking a few steps closer.

"For the pain. Did you give her anything for it?"

Curt's hesitation is all he needs to see red.

"Her body's working through a lot right now. Painkillers would get swallowed up by everything else running through her system, and we don't have morphine—"

Frank isn't too proud of the look he throws his friend.

"You should've told me. I would've gone—"

"I need you to calm down," Curtis tries, keeping calm for the both of them. Frank, however, isn't having it. He steps into the corpsman's space, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. His voice bellows.

"And what does she need? Huh, Curt? If she needs drugs, you tell me. If she needs surgery, you tell me. If I have to take her to a real goddamn doctor, I'll do that! So what is it? What do I gotta do?!"

Frank's rage only ever takes on two forms: the destructive, when he's capable of leveling an entire enemy squadron by himself, and the stifling, when he feels as helpless as humanly possible and will try anything he can to take back control.

Curtis, for his part, doesn't give in to Frank's rage. He holds himself in that same dignified way, eyes too knowing and too kind for the words that were just thrown at him. He's seen Frank in worse states, but back then there was a war raging all around them. This bunker, though dark and decrepit and reeking of blood, is not a war zone; but Curt knows it makes little difference in his friend's mind. He understands. For hours now, Frank has been too close to reliving his worst fear, and his worst fear has always been losing those he loves. A sigh blows past Curt's lips, and then he takes a deep breath.

"Listen—"

"…s'ole."

Both their heads turn to look at the source of the faint sound, though only one of the men crosses the room in two seconds flat, argument completely forgotten. Frank leans over the makeshift bed, shoulders tense as she displays early signs of consciousness. It's like he's restless and rigid at the same time, his body a taut wire about to snap. Curt sighs again. Watching Frank like this isn't easy, but it's also not the worst thing in the world. If only it would get him to realize what everyone else is seeing, but Curt knows his friend is too stubborn for that.

"What is it?" Frank whispers, lightly caressing her cheek with a trembling finger.

Curt sees her lips move, but no sound comes out.

"C'mon sweetheart, what's wrong?"

It's almost sweet, in a way. If her state weren't so delicate, it would be almost endearing — the small touches, his protective stance over her form. The way Frank leans closer, making sure she doesn't have to strain in order to get her message across.

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"… Asshole."

It's only quiet for a moment.

And then David laughs until Curtis is sure he hears something pop in the man's neck.

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A/N: This was supposed to be a short and sweet oneshot. It was, of course, never going to be that. I felt bad abandoning it, though, so here you go. Not my best work, but I do love this idea. Let me know if you'd like an update from her perspective regarding what happens after! Thank you for reading and please know that I always love to read your comments.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfic

[catboy-kakashi]

i wanna know what you think the gangs fursonas are, i think frank would be a reptile of some sort and mac would be a golden retriever

THANK U for asking me i always want to talk about my fursona headcanons

Honestly i was going to say mac is a lion but i LOVE golden retriever mac i cant decide now

I think if we’re talking dogs though then what about either a doberman or a rottweiler? Doberman bc i think theyre funny goofy little guys even though theyre supposed to be tough, and rottweiler bc theyre beefy as hell and have no brain cells. No thoughts only love

(Uncropped ears ONLY in this fucking house)

I like to think frank would be a toad but i could also be swayed to say some sort of reptile. Mayhaps a skink of some kind

(I mean, look at these chonky fuckers)

Actually wait youve sold me on reptile frank i want him to be a skink so badly now thats perfect for him

I really love charlie as a possum though, especially since possums are known for getting along well with feral cats and i like to think the strays outside his apartment are drawn to him like a capybara. Possums are also pretty common in philly (they have one called “Gary the trash cat” thats quite popular)

Plus, possums are pretty cute and look non-threatening (american ones anyway) but have a nasty bite, and sometimes charlie just kinda. Goes a little feral and bites people. Idk i just have a lot of feelings about possum charlie

BUT YEA. coyote dee and dennis!

(Just look at these photogenic bastards)

Im not really sure how to put this one into words tbh. I just really love the twins as coyotes. Mischievous, cunning little bastards or whatever

#aksjjsjhdjd i typed so fuckin much im so sorry #i should have warned u not to open that can of worms #but for real pls give me feedback/criticism i want to talk logistics about these guys #i am open to suggestions but possum charlie lives in my heart #​ camtankerous is whining #anon ask #toad cw #reptile cw #rodent cw #iasip #<- for blacklists #i had no idea how much i had to say until i started typing. felt like the pepe silvia rant #long post

[theliterateape]

I Like to Watch | Zack Snyder’s Justice League

by Don Hall

Mythology is fun.

As a kid I loved reading Edith Hamilton’s book on the Greek gods and the myths. Hercules, Perseus, Apollo, and Hera—this fell completely in line with my love for superhero comics. The strangely petty human traits of envy, greed, and lust combined with the power to level cities make for some great storytelling.

Zeus was basically Harvey Weinstein in the retroactive revision we’re mired in today. If Harvey could’ve changed into a golden animal and boned unsuspecting ladies looking for careers in Hollywood I’m pretty certain he would. The gods and demi-gods of the Greeks dealt with daddy issues, mommy issues, bad relationships, and fighting. Lots of fighting. Sometimes for the good of humanity but more often for the glory of winning.

Zach Snyder is in the business of tackling myths and reframing them with a style all his own. His career has become its own myth.

From Dawn of the Dead (not so much a reboot of Romero's zombie mythology but a philosophical reimagining of the genre that arguably jumpstarted The Hollywood fascination with it), 300 (a borderline homoerotic take on the myth of the Greek underdog), and Watchmen (a ridiculously ambitious attempt to put one of the most iconic takedowns on the potential fascism of the superhero legend machine ever written) to his nearly single-handed hack at answering the Marvel juggernaut with Man of Steel and Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, Snyder is in the artistic business of subverting and re-envisioning the mythologies we embrace without even seeing them as such.

Snyder's style is operatic. It is on a grand scale even in the most mundane moments. The guy loves slow motion like Scorcese loves mobsters and Italian food. When you're tackling big themes with larger than life stories, the epic nature of his vision makes sense and has alienated a good number of audience members. With such excess, there are bound to be missteps but I'd argue that his massive take on these characters he molds from common understanding and popular nomenclature elevates them to god-like stature.

Fans of Moore's Watchmen have much to complain about Snyder's adaptation. The titular graphic novel is almost impossible to put in any other form than the one Moore intended and yet, Snyder jumped in feet-first and created a living, breathing representation of most, if not all, of the source material's intent. Whether you dig on it or not, it's hard to avoid acknowledging that the first five minutes of Watchmen is a mini-masterpiece of style, storytelling, and epic tragedy wrapped up in a music video.

Despite a host of critical backlash for his one fully original take, Sucker Punch is an amazing thing to see. More a commentary on video game enthusiasm with its lust for hot animated chicks and over-the-top violence that a celebration of cleavage and guns, the film is crazily entertaining. For those who hated the ending, he told you in the title what his plan was all along.

The first movie I saw in the theaters that tried to take a superhero mythology and treat it seriously (for the most part) was Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. Never as big a fan of the DC characters as I have been of Marvel, it was still extraordinary to see a character I had only really known in pages to be so fully realized. Then came Burton's Batman movies. The superhero film was still an anomaly but steam was gaining. Things changed with Bryan Singer's X-Men in 2000, then Raimi's Spiderman, and those of us who grew up with our pulpy versions of Athena, Hermes, and Hades were rewarded with Nolan's Batman Begins. A far cry from the tongue-in-cheek camp of the 1966 TV Batman, Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne was a serious character and his tale over three films is a tragic commentary filled with the kind of death and betrayal and triumph befitting the grand narrative he deserved.

I loved Singer's Superman Returns in 2006 because it was such a love letter to the 1978 film (down to the opening credits) but by then, the MCU was taking over the world.

Snyder's first of what turns out to be an epic storyline involving perhaps seven or eight movies was Man of Steel. It was fun and, while I had my issues with the broodiness of Kal El, the odd take on Jonathan Kent, and a redheaded Lois Lane, I had no issue with Superman snapping Zod's neck. Darker and more tragic than any other version of the Kryptonian, it was still super entertaining.

Then came Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. By 2016, Marvel had codified their formula of serious characters wrestling with serious issues of power and responsibility peppered with lots of good humor and bright colors. Snyder's desaturated pallete and angst-filled demi-gods was not the obvious road to financial competition.

I'll confess, I hated it. BvS felt half-rendered. Lex Luthor was kind of superficial and played as a kind of Joker. The whole Bruce Wayne wants to kill Superman thing felt undeveloped and the "Martha" moment was just stupid.

When Joss Whedon's version of Snyder's Justice League came out in 2017, I was primed for it to be a turd and I wasn't surprised. So much of it didn't work on any level. I dismissed it as DC trying and failing miserably and was comforted by the coming of Thanos.

Following Thanos and the time heist was COVID. Suddenly, we were internationally sidelined and the movie theater industry caved in. Streaming services started popping up like knock-off smartphones and Hollywood was reeling, doing anything and everything to find a way back. Since Whedon's disastrous helming of Snyder's third act, fans online had been demanding to #ReleasetheSnyderCut but no one was ever really taking them seriously until all movie production was shut down for a year.

The stage was set to remedy a mistake (or at least make some bucks on a do-over of a huge box office failure). Snyder had left the production in part because of the suicide of his daughter and in part due to the constant artistic fights over executives looking for the quippy fun of the MCU but he still had all the original footage. Add to that the broiling accusations that Joss Whedon was "abusive" during the reshoots, the path seemed destined. For an additional $70 million and complete control, Snyder delivered a four hour mega-movie streamed on HBOMax.

Of course, I was going to watch the thing as soon as I could.

The Whedon version opens with an homage to the now dead Superman (including the much maligned digitally erased mustache on Henry Cavill). The SynderCut opens with the death of Superman and the agony of his death scream as it travels across the planet. It's a simple change but exemplifies the very different visions of how this thing is gonna play out.

Snyder doesn't want us to be OK with the power of these beings unleashed. He wants us to feel the damage and pain of death. He wants the results of violence to be as real as he can. When Marvel's Steve Rogers kicks a thug across the room and the thug hits a wall, he crumples and it is effectively over. When Batman does the same thing, we see the broken bones (often in slow motion) and the blood smear on the wall as the thug slides to the ground.

The longer SnyderCut is bloated in some places (like the extended Celtic choir singing Aquaman off to sea or the extended narrations by Wonder Woman which sound slightly like someone trying to explain the plot to Siri). On the other hand, the scene with Barry Allen saving Iris West is both endearing and extraordinary, giving insight to the power of the Flash as well as some essential character-building in contrast to Whedon's comic foil version.

One thing I noticed in this variant is that Zach wants the audience to experience the sequence of every moment as the characters do. An example comes when Diana Prince goes to the crypt to see the very plot she belabors over later. The sequence is simple. She gets a torch and goes down. Most directors which jump cut to the torch. Snyder gives us five beats as she grabs the timber, wraps cloth around the end, soaks it with kerosene, pulls out a box of matches, and lights the torch. Then she goes down the dark passageway.

The gigantic, lush diversity of Snyder’s vision of the DC superhero universe—from the long shots of the sea life in the world of Atlantis to the ancient structures and equipment of Themyscira— is almost painterly. Snyder isn't taking our time; he's taking his time. We are rewarded our patience with a far better backstory for the villain, a beautifully rendered historic battle thwarting Darkseid's initial invasion (including a fucking Green Lantern), and answers to a score of questions set up in both previous films.

Whedon's Bruce Wayne was more Ben Affleck; Snyder's is full-on Frank Miller Batman, the smartest, most brutal fucker in the room. Cyborg, instead of Whedon's sidelined non-character, is now a Frankenstein's monster, grappling with the trade-off between acceptance and enormous power. Wonder Woman is now more in line with the Patty Jenkins version and instead of being told about the loss of Superman, we are forced to live with the anguish of both his mother and Lois Lane in quiet moments of incredible grief.

To be fair to Whedon (something few are willing to do as he is now being castigated not for racism or sexism but for being mean to people) having him come in to throw in some levity and Marvel-esque color to Snyder's Wagnerian pomposity is like hiring Huey Lewis to lighten up Pink Floyd's The Wall or getting Douglas Adams to rewrite Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

I loved Snyder's self-indulgent, mythologic DC universe.

So much so that I then re-watched Man of Steel and then watched the director's version of BvS (which Snyder added approximately 32 minutes). The second film is far better at three hours and Eisenberg's Lex Luthor now makes sense. Then I watched Zach Snyder's Justice League a second time.

After nineteen hours of Snyder's re-imagining of these DC heroes and villains, I saw details that, upon first viewing, are ignored or dismissed, but after seeing them in order and complete, are suddenly consistent and relevant. Like Nolan or Fincher, Snyder defies anyone to eliminate even one piece of his narrative no matter how long. With all the pieces, this is an epic story and the pieces left at the extended epilogue play into a grander narrative we will never see.

Or maybe we will. Who knows these days?

#I Like to Watch #Zach Snyder's Justice League

[mosseatenrobot]

this just in: THE OUTER WORLDS GOOD (incoming word vomit)

can you call something escapism when it satires the current world state so accurately that you just want to stare at the wall for a few minutes

spoilers ?

goddamn I don’t play games all that often anymore but hell if that wasn’t the HYPEST last thirty or so minutes

I managed to stay pretty much completely unspoiled since release so I was not expecting everybody I helped out to come back and whoop ass with me / declare war on my behalf

that trope will never not completely rule

the INCREDIBLE way that the reveals were set up in the beginning of the game! you leave edgewater thinking reed is a fucking idiot for putting goddamn sawdust in the food (and he is for not linking that to the periodic “plagues”) but you find out that everyone in the entire colony is past the event horizon of starvation because the food is nutritionally useless, and you pick up on that through the sublight quests (the station in particular was fucking creepy i loved it)

now that I’m thinking of it there’s a solid chunk of side quests that gradually steer you in that direction, very sexy of the writers

I forgot to go back into the restricted area in cascadia FUCK

I had so much fun pissing the chairman off telling him I just liked causing trouble, got him so irate he called me a bitch it was great

then to turn around after he did the whole spiel on his dumb death robot through a very locked door and to go through some beefy hacking skill checks (thanks max) and a science 100 skill check, the one I focused on maxing out the earliest I could, and just skipped that whole fight?

I LAUGHED

damn there really wasn’t a final boss in that play through? I just employed the non combat skill that my character was oriented around and just moseyed on through

That gave that whole section much more of a “This is a culmination of all your effort, it’s your victory lap”

Very much liked that phineas gave me a long range n-ray rifle which also fit my build nicely, made for some good rp

I wanted to hug the weirdo at the end, he was a good egg

The entire hope section was a goddamn punch to the gut because it never crossed my mind that the ship would have a crew living on it, and that they were trapped there, responsible for thousands of lives

I didn’t understand what was up with the massive amounts of missing pods, or why that one room freaked Parvati out so much until the light caught on all the blood.

Frank talking about how the colonists were clammy when he opened the pods, and how they screamed. Phineas talking about how they screamed. Making it known that Harley was thirty three and that she liked to sing, and that he was sorry.

I was role playing a specific character through the game, and they liked to take the non violent approach when possible because fighting wasn’t usually worth the effort, and they liked to sneak around instead of bringing attention to themselves, and something about the hope really put me in their headspace, and when we got through reading Phineas’ log, we just kind of stood still and walked around a bit in that room, trying to process that. And it really made sense for that character in that moment to go “fuck it” and waste the entire stationed corporate force.

They’re a person of an even temperament, and the oldest sibling besides, used to managing a pack of brats because no one else seemed to be doing so, so they got used to looking out for people, to making sure they kept themself in check, to being the responsible one. Through out the colony they tried to help as many people as possible because fuck, what else are you meant to do?

(ellie’s nihilism was a bit grating)

Becoming a captain wasn’t that much of a change of pace. Look out for your crew, because they’re yours and no one else is gonna. Keep a lid on yourself, no need to make them worry over what all goes on in your head. Keep a lid on all that shit that grinds your teeth and your gears, let off just enough steam to keep it from boiling over, but keep a lid on it.

Try not to punch a hole through the hope’s interface when it interrupts the skip, even though you really wanna.

Walk back to your ship calmly and acknowledge this is the angriest you’ve been in your entire goddamn life.

“I don’t want to die like Donna did.”

Let off some steam. Kill the chairman of the board.

“I just like causing trouble.”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The last two quests of the game are real good, is what I’m saying. Also the moment before that when you’re trying to brain storm with Phineas and you’re the one to suggest “we’ll skip the Hope”

high science characters are unbearably sexy in this game

Byzantium was also fun with this particular character because it really was “I try to be a nice person but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people”

The early retiree bit about laid me in the goddamn dirt jesus christ, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU SEE THAT CROWD OF PEOPLE WHEN YOU LAND! And you go back for the quest and they’re gone, and you head down the elevator into the opulent ass hallway that gives you the fucking hibbie jibbies and you’re like “aw fuck what do they have these poor people doing?” And the answer is nothing, they just have them get mowed down in a pit. Every person you saw in that hallway when you arrived is dead, you gave it a cursory glance and walked on by because you had other things to do, and when you came back they were all dead.

Sophia can go fuck herself

to do a really intense pivot I loved how parvati was handled in the game

CANONICAL ACE WLW

I was worried how the player response could be to her asexuality, a la krem in dai and the fuck awful invasive questions, and there’s like one response that falls under that kind of with the others being good and reassuring, but then:

YOU CAN TELL HER YOU’RE ACE TOO

YOU CAN TELL HER YOU’RE ARO AS WELL

HOLY SHIT

my character is canonically aro ace in this universe and it is the coolest goddamn thing I could not believe my eyes

wish those mother fuckers would quit calling me a lady though

but how matter of fact her relationship with a woman is treated and that it’s the only romance you’re directly involved in, and how relieving it is that you don’t have to be worried about the romancing yourself? things to ponder over

I lost track of how many times I thought “wish I could play this on switch :/”

but really what the fuck is past that bridge in cascadia?

#outer worlds #long post #i spent an hour typing this #to be fair outer worlds good is very true

[pacificwanderer]

I’m starting to feel very nervous that there will be no romance between Ben and Rey. What if it’s just them reconciling and that’s it. Their relationship just evolves to them being friends at the end of IX or their relationship is so subtle and is left ambiguous...

Hey Nonnie,

Romance has always been an overt part of SW as a whole, so there’s no reason to believe that any romance between Rey and Ben would be subtle or ambiguous.

I’m going to be frank, but they were not so subtly eye-fucking each other on that elevator (my non-shipping spouse thought they were going to kiss, which is exactly what they wanted the audience to think).

She saw his tits.

They touched hands in a symbolic union across space and time.

And then there’s the whole throne room scene. I just, you know it’s not only the Reylos that see this shit, right?

Here’s a fun article from Vanity Fair: How The Last Jedi Became the Sexiest Star Wars Movie Yet that features such gems as: 

But having seen the film with a full audience three times, I can say no moment draws more audible gasps and applause than when Adam Driver’s Kylo Ren and Daisy Ridley’s Rey whirl around in brief slow-motion, stand back-to-back, and take on a room of their shared enemies together. It’s the sexiest moment in a franchise that already featured a young Han Solo answering Leia’s earnest “I love you” with a smoldering “I know.”

But I hate to break it to you: the Tumblr fans were right. With Rey’s non-Skywalker lineage confirmed, she and Kylo burn up the screen in the franchise’s most intense relationship we can’t help but root for—even though we know we shouldn’t.

It’s tempting, at first, to deny the existence of any sexual tones in The Last Jedi. This is, after all, a franchise for kids. But sex, love, and bad or off-limits romances have always been written into the D.N.A. of Star Wars—albeit a little less lustily.

And like this entire paragraph:

But for all the romantic picnics between Padmé and Anakin and passionate stolen kisses of Han and Leia, nothing in the Star Wars franchise has ever had quite the dangerous spark as the late-night Force Skype sessions between lonely, misunderstood misfits Rey and Kylo. “You’re not alone,” they urgently confess to each other as the movie pushes them closer. Nothing is sexier than a forbidden romance—and, like any overprotective father figure, Luke should have known that busting up their call would only drive Rey directly into Kylo’s arms. (Note the precise moment in the film where she switches from calling him Kylo to calling him “Ben.”) The fact that Kylo is unwittingly being used as some kind of sexy emo honeypot so Snoke can lure Rey into his clutches is beside the point. These kids think the connection they have is special because they are special. 

Okay, so read the entire article because it’s gold.

And then this article is just lol:

1. Kylo Ren takes his shirt offLike I wasn’t going to start with this? Adam Driver as Kylo Ren gamely serves up the most Star Wars beefcake since Luke went sleeveless on Dagobah, and even Rey is rattled. She forgot to force-knock before barging in on the dude, and here’s Kylo Ren alone in his room, stripped to the waist, boasting sweaty pecs that look like he sliced Alderaan in half and glued the remainders to his chest. It’s a lot! Finally, even people who don’t subscribe to HBO can wonder, “Shit, am I attracted to Adam Driver?”

2. Kylo and Rey’s whole thingMany weirdos shipped these two characters after The Force Awakens, and now I kinda get it. Kylo and Rey never make out, but they still share The Last Jedi’s sexiest scenes as well as a telepathic connection fostered by sinister voyeur Snoke, the galaxy’s mightiest cuck. And how about that moment where Kylo kills his mentor — it’s always hot when a space goth murders a lazy magician — and then flips sides with Rey to kill off a straggling crew of ruby-red stormtroopers? If watching seven seasons of Buffy has taught me anything, it’s that there is no sex sign more unequivocal than teaming up with your sworn enemy to throw stage punches.

And like, this is going to get a little ranty (not directed at you, nonnie, just in general because I have a lot of feelings about SW and Reylo lol), but I don’t know if I can properly convey just how big of a fucking deal it is that Ben killed Snoke for Rey. He killed his master for someone he’s known for, what? Three days? A girl who tried to kill him twice? And he’s not even mad about it! I think he’s impressed, and more than just a little bit in love with her.

But he killed off what everyone thought was going to be the big bad, because he wanted to keep her safe. He was thinking of this plan from when she arrived on Snoke’s Supremacy. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t sure until that lightsaber fell in front of him and everything clicked because there was no way he was going to let Snoke have her.

After everything he’s been through and everything that Snoke has done to him, he wasn’t willing to give her up.

He killed someone who has had a hold on him since BIRTH, basically an evil wizard that had a powerful spell over him for his entire life, and he killed him for her. I don’t know if people realize just how significant that is for Ben. Unless you’ve grown up in an extremely oppressive environment (think fundamentalist religions or even cults), it’s hard to properly convey just how much of a big fucking deal it is to turn on everything you’ve come to know.

Snoke isolated Ben so completely that they weren’t even allowed to utter his birth name in the FO. He tried to fashion him into a weapon that could be used to bring down Luke. But furthermore than that, the relationship was insidious and predatory in nature, but as is the case with those kinds of relationships, people are brainwashed into believing certain things. They condition people to have certain reactions (so, when Han questions Snoke’s loyalty to Ben and tells him that Snoke will use him and destroy him, Kylo basically replies with a ready response, “No, the supreme leader is wise.” LIKE FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. That’s a learned reaction, something that gets triggered by specific circumstances/conditioning and, in this case, that circumstance is someone questioning Snoke’s power).

So turning away from something that you’ve been indoctrinated into is hard and, in some cases, impossible because of the kind of conditioning that is used to control people accounts for that kind of thing (which also makes Fi//nn turning against the FO a huge fucking deal too, btw). But Ben overcomes that for her. This isn’t something you do for like some rando on the street. He did this because he wanted to keep her, and she wanted to keep him, but not as they are at that point. Both of them need to figure out some shit on their own before they’re able to come together and resolve their problems and get a HEA.

He made his first step towards the light for her, but now he has to find his own reasons for coming around. He has to want to change for himself, and not because Rey or anyone else wants him to, in order for there to be any kind of lasting change in his life (and of course it’s fine if he needs help to do that, but the main motivating factor has to be that he wants to change).

And I’m not so convinced that Rey is sold on the idea of the Resistance. Like it was always her intention to go back to Jakku until Kylo got her to see the truth about that. She’s been fighting to survive her entire life, like she doesn’t owe them anything. I think her story is going to be more Force driven than anything else (with the eventual resolution for it all at the end), but we’ll have to see.

Also. ALSO. She shipped herself to him, right smack into fucking enemy territory, risking torture and death, to get him back. She did that. SHE DID THAT. RIGHT IN THERE. Like how impulsive and awesome. She saw the good in him, saw that they shared something yet to come, and BOOM she’s in there to get him back. I admire that about her. It’s brave and such a fucking hero thing to do, and for the villain. MY GOD. FOR KYLO FUCKING REN. THE DUDE SHE JUST TRIED TO KILL TWICE. I JUST. *FLAILING*

BE STILL MY VILLAIN FUCKER HEART.

Anyfuckingways. Basically, LF knows how thirsty everyone is for more Reylo content, JJ knows how thirsty we all are for more Reylo content (his director’s commentary, what does he say when the story shifts back to Rey and Kylo? “Back to the story that everyone cares about?”). 

Just don’t worry. Honestly, it’s not worth it. And, honestly, this shit already isn’t subtle or subtext or any of it. It’s right the fuck out there. Obvious enough that other media comments on it and fanboys get riled up about it.

It’s real. And I have faith that they cast Adam Fucking Driver because they know what a god damn fabulous kisser he is, like they’re not going to let those “plush lips” go to waste. WHAT A CRIME THAT WOULD BE.

WHAT A WASTE.

Anyways, there’s a shitton of awesome Reylo meta out there that pretty much lays out why people thing it’s going to happen and if you’re still worried about it, maybe take a break from spoilers/the fandom for a bit because, at the end of it all, it’s supposed to be fun and not stressful.

Cheers and chin up, Nonnie!

#reylo #epix speculation #long post #also carrie promised us a space kiss with daisy lol #it's going to be fine guys #normally I don't answer these because I've gotten too many #but I'm feeling sassy and avoiding work rn #asks and answers #anonymous asks #ask pacificwanderer #Anonymous #don't get me started on his lightsaber #just don't #or just the whole fucking throne room scene

[imagitory]

D-Views: Aladdin (with guest input!)

Hi, everyone! Welcome to another installment of D-Views, my on-going written review series where I take a look at Disney-produced and/or owned properties, as well as occasionally non-Disney films that were influenced by Disney’s success! For more of these reviews, you may consult my “Disney reviews” tag, where I’ve discussed such films as Treasure Planet, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, and Dreamworks’ The Prince of Egypt!

Today I’ll be doing something a little different. In lieu of the live-action Aladdin remake premiering in less than two weeks, I decided it’d be best to re-watch the original 1992 classic, and I invited two of my good friends, Christina and Jen, to help me analyze it. I will note any of their input when it arises, and hopefully you’ll enjoy hearing three voices for the price of one!

Aladdin was released in the midst of the Disney Renaissance in the 1990′s, sandwiched between the landmark hits Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King. Out of Disney’s biggest blockbusters, Aladdin is easily the most “of its time” -- it relies on pop culture references for its humor and uses era-specific slang (i.e. ”NOT!” and “Made you look!”) more than most Disney films do and features a celebrity voice in a prominent role, which was quite uncommon, compared to previous Disney projects. (The best examples I can think of prior to this was having John Hurt, Peter Ustinov, and Vincent Price play villains in The Black Cauldron, Robin Hood, and The Great Mouse Detective, but...yeah, as amazing and well-renown as those men are, they weren’t insanely popular media stars of the time the way that Robin Williams was.) One could attribute this “hipper” aspect at least in part to Jeffrey Katzenberg, who was head of Disney’s animation department at the time, and Disney CEO Michael Eisner, both of whom put a lot of focus in following what was popular and marketable. (Katzenberg later put all of his attention and focus on molding Pocahontas into a historical-fiction retelling of Romeo and Juliet as he assumed a forbidden love story would be a hit, while Eisner kicked The Rescuers Down Under to the curb a year before Beauty and the Beast came out all because it didn’t break the box office opening weekend.) Fortunately the approach paid off and Aladdin was a big success, fueling two direct-to-video sequels, a spin-off TV series, and a show at Disney’s California Adventure that transformed into a full Broadway musical. Even now it’s still very well-loved by Disney fans, many of whom are now looking forward to the live-action remake coming out this month. As my followers might know, I’m still very on-the-fence about the remake myself, as I haven’t reacted very warmly to Disney’s other recent live-action remakes, but my two cohorts Jen and Christina are much less cynical about the prospect, so hopefully any commentary we might make about what we’ve learned about the remake compared to the original will be minimal. Now that our context is framed, let’s board this magic carpet of a movie and see where it takes us!

To start with, Arabian Nights is just such a fantastic musical introduction to this story! Aladdin was the last project that lyricist Howard Ashman worked on before his premature death in 1992, and like in the rest of his work, the word play in the songs he wrote for this movie (Arabian Nights, Friend Like Me and Prince Ali) is just masterful. Arabian Nights in particular just emanates “adventure” -- it was later used as the opening theme for the Aladdin TV series, and it got me so pumped up whenever I watched it, just as much as it probably excited those who first saw the movie in theaters. Fun fact: while listening to the intro, one might notice the names Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio credited as two of the film’s screenwriters, alongside directors John Musker and Ron Clements -- down the road, Elliot and Rossio would also write the screenplay for The Road to El Dorado, join the writing team for Shrek, and be the main writing force behind the Pirates of the Caribbean films. 

As much as I rarely go for films that market themselves as comedies, I feel like Aladdin handles its comedy really well. From the beginning, we see the comedic, spontaneous tone in the peddler’s narration scene, and that tone is taken on by Gilbert Gottfried as Iago until Robin Williams reappears as the Genie later. It makes it so that, unlike Mulan where the comedy kind of starts and ends with Mushu, the comedy is a constant fixture in the story, never distracting from the plot and never feeling out of place. 

One niche interest of mine that I rarely get to delve into is color psychology, and oh BOY, does this film give me a lot to talk about there! Aladdin’s production designer, Richard Wende, used a very simple, yet striking color palette for the film that favors blues, reds, and golds. The effect is a beautifully lush setting while maintaining a “desert” feel: any greens that appear really stick out, like when Aladdin and Genie arrive in an oasis after escaping the Cave of Wonders. It also makes it so that when the background is mostly red or gold, any blue shades draw focus, or when the scene takes place at night and is mostly shades of blue, anything red or gold likewise draws focus. This post goes into the color symbolism more deeply, but generally blue is representative of good characters, while red represents evil, with gold being a sort of middle ground. Primary colors often are used in properties marketed toward children (ex. Team Valor/Instinct/Mystic in Pokemon Go, Snow White having all three colors on her dress), so it’s understandable that so many kids from the 90′s gravitated toward this movie, but the palette never feels restricted or simple. The deep, saturated fusion of reds and blues and reds and yellows creates a lot of texture despite the limited color range, and it beautifully communicates the heat of the locations and creates a unique visual style for the film. I’ve noticed that in the trailers for the remake, this color symbolism was discarded in favor of a more “Bollywood” look, not unlike how the Beauty and the Beast remake likewise ignored the color symbolism of Belle being the only villager to wear blue (which accents how much she stands apart from the crowd) and decided to dress a lot of people in blue during the opening number Belle. I can only hope the decision means the film is just choosing to make Agrabah more like India than Arabia, rather than this just being a stylistic choice with no substance, but I think the subtle color psychology in the original film is very clever short-hand for the audience, even if they’ll likely not be able to consciously express how the color palette affected their viewing experience.

As Jafar and his stooge Gazeem come across the Cave of Wonders, I’m reminded of how awesome the Cave’s design is. It was made primarily with CG animation, yet the CGI is never distracting: on the contrary, it fuses together beautifully with the rest of the hand-drawn background. Even the sandy texture on the Cave is very well rendered. Christina also noted a neat detail I hadn’t picked up on before: the tiger head has an earring in one ear, just like the Genie whose lamp lives inside the Cave!

After the Cave of Wonders devours Gazeem, declaring that it will only allow the “diamond in the rough” inside, we meet our title character and resident “diamond,” Aladdin. Voicing Aladdin is Scott Weinger, or Steve of Full House fame, who brings such charm, energy, and personality to the role. I honestly think it’d be hard for anyone else to match the sheer likability rippling out of Scott’s voice. Accompanying Weinger and Robin Williams in this stellar cast are Broadway actor Jonathan Freeman as Jafar (who has since gone on to play the character in everything from TV shows to the Broadway musical), raucous comic Gilbert Gottfried as Iago, and three voice-acting legends -- Frank Welker (who voices Shaggy and Scooby Doo) as Abu and Rajah; Jim Cummings (the current voices of Winnie the Pooh and Tigger) as Razoul; and Corey Burton (who is best known for playing Ansem the Wise in Kingdom Hearts) as Prince Tiger-Fucker Achmed. Even Jasmine, who was voiced by the at-the-time-fresh-faced actress Linda Larkin, had her singing voice done by Broadway legend Lea Salonga, fresh off her success premiering the title role in Miss Saigon. Even though many of these names aren’t celebrities like Robin Williams, and so I would hesitate to call this an “all-star cast” exactly, it doesn’t change how much talent was accrued by Disney’s casting agents! 

Unlike most main characters in a Disney musical, Aladdin doesn’t get a full solo number to call his own. Originally Howard Ashman wrote a song for Aladdin called Proud of Your Boy, where Aladdin sings to his mother (who played a large role in early drafts of the story) about how he’ll make good for her. Unfortunately the story’s focus on Aladdin and his mother’s relationship ended up taking focus away from Aladdin and Jasmine’s romance and Aladdin’s character arc to accept himself, so the screenwriters ultimately had to cut the mother character from the story, at which point the song no longer fit. The decision was very difficult for the filmmakers at the time, given that it was one of the last things Ashman wrote and it’s such a beautiful, raw song, but I ultimately think it was the right decision. Putting Aladdin on his own with no one but Abu for company and giving Jasmine no emotional support outside of her naïve, misguided father and her pet and only friend Rajah I think goes a long way to explain why they’re such kindred spirits. Aladdin and Jasmine each become the friend and support that the other needed. (This is also why Christina and I are concerned about the inclusion of a servant/friend for Jasmine, as the choice would likely weaken any rationale Jasmine could have for leaving the palace and for connecting so instantly with Aladdin.) Plus I think Aladdin’s reprise of One Jump Ahead is just as beautifully raw as Proud of Your Boy, just with a slightly different message and less words. I really feel Aladdin’s frustration and yearning for something better, and Aladdin’s singing voice Brad Kane is able to stuff so much pathos into such a short tune that a longer song isn’t even necessary. And fortunately Proud of Your Boy was later utilized in the Broadway musical version of Aladdin, so it got its dues eventually. 

At the palace, we meet our heroine, Jasmine, who was Christina’s favorite Disney character as a kid and who I personally think is the prettiest of the Disney princesses. Jasmine was designed by supervising animator Mark Henn, who modeled her after a picture of his little sister, which honestly is so sweet that I can’t stand it. What I really like about Jasmine in comparison to other Disney princesses is that she is fiery, but clever: determined, but calculating: proud, yet compassionate. It’s this balance that makes her interesting: in my mind, Jasmine is the ultimate Slytherin Disney princess (with just as Slytherin of a prince!), because unlike Ariel, she isn’t reckless in her rebellion. What’s also very cool about Jasmine is that her circumstances are a perfect contrast to Aladdin, placing them in a more romantic Prince and the Pauper set-up where they envy each other, and yet they want the same thing: freedom. In fact, all of our protagonists do -- namely, Aladdin, Jasmine, and Genie. Aladdin wants freedom from his poverty. Jasmine wants freedom from her privilege. Genie wants freedom from his purpose. They all have different cages, but they all want to be free to live their own lives, and it’s through Aladdin learning to empathize with Jasmine and Genie and see their respective prisons as clearly as his own that he grows as a character. (For a video that delves into this thought process further, please consult this piece by ScreenPrism -- it’s just beautifully done!)

Throughout the film, three animals emerge over and over -- the cobra, the elephant, and the tiger. Tigers -- which we see not only in obvious examples like Rajah and the Cave of Wonders, but also as a carving in the back of the Sultan’s throne -- are generally associated with courage and heraldry, not unlike their feline cousins, lions. The heraldry aspect I think is most relevant here -- only one who is deemed worthy, namely Aladdin, may enter the Cave of Wonders and access the wealth of kings, and when Jasmine runs away from home, she leaves Rajah, a symbol of her noble heritage, behind. Elephants in comparison are associated with wisdom and more notably royal power. In the film, Abu is transformed into an elephant steed for Aladdin when he becomes Prince Ali, and even the Sultan sits in a throne decorated with a statue of an elephant. As for the cobra, it’s entirely connected to Jafar, first as his magic scepter and then as a form Jafar takes on himself. Snakes overall are associated with many things like healing, rebirth, eternity, and the dichotomy of good and evil, but cobras specifically are the most poisonous snakes on earth. Legends even claim that Cleopatra, the last Pharaoh of Egypt, committed suicide by cobra bite. I reckon that meaning is more than enough reason for it to represent Jafar.

Through the use of a bizarre storm-making machine powered by Iago running on a treadmill-like wheel that Christina, Jen, and I thoroughly don’t understand and kind of find hilariously ridiculous, Jafar is able to discover the identity of the elusive “diamond in the rough.” He then sends the guards out to arrest Aladdin so as to coerce him into aiding him in his goal to enter the Cave, but in the process gets caught by Jasmine as he’s exiting one of the secret passages. Jen brought up the lovely point that Jafar seems to be the only person who knows about these passages in the palace, even though the Sultan presumably was raised in the palace just like Jasmine was -- this isn’t necessarily a problem, but it does make both her and me want to know the story behind this! Was Jafar basically raised in the palace too? Did Jafar partially create those passages? Were they forgotten after years of non-use and Jafar came across them by chance? It seems like there could be some fun explanation here, if someone wanted to write a fic or fan theory about it.

Okay, I really don’t want to express my concerns about the remake yet again, but I just have to say this flat-out -- there is no way that Abu in the remake could be as funny as he is in the animated film. Let’s be honest, CG characters in live-action films are almost never very charming if they’re more on the cartoony side compared to the so-called “realistic” world they’re supposed to inhabit. You can have very likable, well-developed CG characters -- just look at Aslan in The Chronicles of Narnia -- but he wasn’t solely comic relief the way Abu is, and Abu’s comedy in particular relies on a lot of cartoon-like squash and stretch that would be difficult to recreate in CG for a live-action movie. Best case scenario, you’d have something like Pip in Enchanted, which is only irritating and visually out-of-place sometimes, but alternatively, you might get something like Alvin and the Chipmunks (where the humor falls flat), Dobby in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (where it’s clear he was never actually there the whole time), and/or the enchanted objects in the live-action Beauty and the Beast (where the characters end up looking creepy, like something out of the Uncanny Valley). Basically if they want Abu to work in the live-action setting, it’s likely they’d have to make him more like an actual animal, which as I said would make it so he is a lot less funny.

Anyway, not long after Abu unlocks Aladdin’s shackles, Jafar arrives to bust him out, disguised as an old man. Just as Jafar’s storm-making machine makes no sense, the three of us all concluded that his disguise makes no sense. Not only does Jafar suddenly look a good foot and a half shorter, which even with him crouching shouldn’t be possible, but he’s changed his teeth with no visible dentures (which would’ve slurred his speech anyway) and he can get rid of all of the white hair and beard he put on just by ripping off the beard in a single gesture. As Jen brought up, even the Evil Queen used a potion to turn into the Hag: if Jafar had used magic, these sort of physical changes would make sense, but he didn’t.

Back to the Cave of Wonders again, and now I get to talk about one of the most revolutionary aspects of Aladdin: the Magic Carpet. Our sweet little Carpet is a perfect fusion of CG and hand-drawn animation -- supervising animator Randy Cartwright drew the outline and tassels of Carpet with so much personality and silent comedy, and rather than have to animate Carpet’s detailed pattern in every single frame as the fabric folded and contorted, the pencil tests were handed to the CG artists, who melded the pattern perfectly to the line work, making it one perfectly cohesive character. Carpet’s pattern also has allusions to different parts of the film, including the Cave of Wonders, the magic lamp, and the flames that appear when Abu touches the red gem. Even if the technology of CG animation is much more advanced now than it was in 90s, it doesn’t change how seamless the finished result is.

As mentioned, the Cave doesn’t remain safe for our hero very long. When Abu snatches up a gem after being warned not to touch anything, the whole place starts to fall apart, raging with lava and fire. Christina brought up the question of why the Cave would allow Abu inside, since he wasn’t the diamond in the rough (yes, Abu was hidden in Aladdin’s vest, but the Cave was magical, did it really not know he was there?), but I almost wonder if it was an issue of Aladdin having trusted Abu when he shouldn’t have, which would end up being the true mistake in this scenario. Regardless, the CGI in this particular escape sequence is some of the more outdated material of the film. The flight on Carpet is still kind of fun, as it probably would make for a very exciting thrill ride, but it still looks incredibly fake, especially in comparison to other CG elements used in other scenes. Honestly, I’d say this Cave chase and the tower used in the “ends of the earth” sequence later are the worst instances of outdated CGI in this movie.

And finally, at long last, we get to the big, blue guy himself, the Genie. As much as I wouldn’t say Genie steals the show, as Aladdin has such a likable hero and heroine and an excellent villain, Jen, Christina, and I will say categorically that Aladdin would not be as good of a movie as it is without Genie and without Robin Williams. The directors Ron Clements and John Musker wrote the character with Robin in mind, but thought there’d be no way they’d ever get him -- fortunately Eric Goldberg, the supervising animator for Genie, got the idea to make an animation of Genie speaking a piece of one of Robin’s comedy routines, and the animation amazingly won Robin over and got him on board. And really, it is that flawless combination of Robin’s acting and Goldberg’s animation that really makes Genie as likable as he is. Even Robin’s humor, which still is very funny, is not what makes Genie as great of a character as he is, in my opinion -- if anything, I’d say it’s how much sincerity Robin gives the role. Genie is never a sidekick in this movie, as he has his own distinct motivations and feelings separate to the main character and their goals, and Robin just makes you feel so much for Genie and his own desire for freedom. One quote of Genie’s that has stuck with me since I was a kid thanks to Robin’s beautiful delivery is “To be my own master -- such a thing would be greater than all the magic and all the treasures in all the world.” It makes it so his humor is a sign of how resilient Genie is, despite how unhappy his circumstances are, which is something I understand very well as someone who has suffered from depression and I’m quite sure Robin himself understood very well too. I think it’s why so many people found Robin so likable and felt so much for the characters he portrayed over the years.

Speaking on Friend Like Me specifically, I’m afraid I’ll have to go off on a bit of a tangent and share a story with all of you. The day that Robin Williams passed away, I was working at the World of Color show at Disney’s Calfornia Adventure. When the Friend Like Me segment came on, I danced along to the music while in the walkway outside the show, trying to keep the grief off of my face and just make others happy, the way Robin used to. As the segment ended, everyone applauded like crazy. Then, all of a sudden, we Cast Members became aware of a strange, sputtering, almost sobbing sound. One of the show fountains in the water had gotten out of alignment and it sputtered softly in the background as the next segment (Touch the Sky) began, before after a minute slowly quieting and coming to a stop. It was as if the show was crying for Robin, this person who had given so much joy to so many people. And this, among other reasons, is why I feel so very sorry for poor Will Smith, who somehow has to try to fill the shoes that Robin wore. Jen, Christina, and I aren’t very optimistic about his prospects (I still personally might have offered the role to Wayne Brady instead, given that he can sing, he has done comedy, and he worked with Robin in the past), as even Dan Castellanetta, who voiced Genie in the Aladdin TV series, was never able to match Robin no matter how hard he tried.

On the note of Genie’s motivation, as well, we hear about it in a scene accompanied by the beautiful instrumental “To Be Free.” It’s one of my favorite pieces of instrumental music from the film, which became one of Christina’s favorite songs from the Aladdin musical, To Be Free, which is a solo sung by Jasmine. As very pretty and appropriate the song is from Jasmine, I do also really appreciate the number accompanying Genie’s monologue. The instrumental comes across as more spontaneous and thoughtful, like it’s making itself up as it goes along, until it gets to the sincere, meaningful line about freedom, at which point the melody that inspired the song To Be Free's chorus starts.

Another neat touch with Genie is his use of Yiddisms, such as “punim,” meaning face. Of course, Genie’s animator Eric Goldberg is Jewish, and the idea of Genie being Jewish as well I just find so unbelievably charming, particularly when you place him in an Arabian-like setting full of (presumably) Muslim characters, given that the Sultan at one point references Allah. Therefore Genie and Aladdin’s (adorable) friendship could be thought of as a friendship between a Jewish person and a Muslim! I think that’s really cool!

We return to the palace, where the Sultan scolds Jafar for Aladdin’s supposed execution, only for Aladdin to burst onto the scene, dressed as the dashing Prince Ali. During this scene, Christina noted the fun juxtaposition of Jafar’s fashion choices compared to the Sultan, Genie as a human, and Aladdin as Ali. All of them wear very similar robes and turbans, but the Sultan, Genie, and Aladdin wear turbans with more rounded, floppy feathers, which Jafar’s feather is sharp and straight. Aladdin’s and the Sultan’s feather even flop into their faces sometimes, whereas Jafar’s is rigid as a board. As Jen likewise pointed out, Jafar’s design gives him this pointed, slender look not unlike Dr. Facilier in future Disney project The Princess and the Frog. The shoulder pads on his shoulders also serve to give him this sort of sharp “T” shape, contrasted to the more rounded and well-proportioned characters. Couple that with a black/red color scheme that contrasts the more saintly tannish-white of the other three, and it really does communicate the “black cloud” nature that Jafar’s supervising animator Andreas Deja wanted to give the character, to compliment the “Severus Snape” level of dry sardonicism Jonathan Freeman gave the character.

Even though the Sultan is very impressed by “Prince Ali,” Jasmine most certainly is not. Genie counsels Aladdin (with a few outdated pop culture references) that he should tell her the truth -- the nice thing about the pop culture references is that, really, even if you don’t get the jokes, you can still understand them, and the jokes still drive dialogue and plot forward enough that those lines don’t feel like a waste of time. I mean, I didn’t get most of the jokes as a kid, and it didn’t hurt anything for me -- I still thought the Genie was funny because of his comedic timing and odd voices. (Oh yes, and since Jen brought this up while we were watching this -- Aladdin does not say “take off your clothes” while up on Jasmine’s balcony: the line that Weigner improvised for when Aladdin is trying to shoo Rajah away is “take off and go.” Get your brains out of the gutter.)

Fortunately Aladdin is able to soften Jasmine enough that she gives him a chance, and the two go on a magic carpet ride (a.k.a. the fastest world tour ever, as Christina described it! LOL). Accompanying this scene is, in my opinion, the single most romantic song in the Disney canon. A Whole New World was the very first song Alan Menken and Tim Rice wrote together. After the loss of his good friend and most constant collaborator, Howard Ashman, Menken was very nervous about working with someone else. Fortunately, as soon as he and Tim Rice met, they came together pretty quickly while working on the aforementioned love song, which ended up taking some inspiration from their circumstances as new collaborators in its melody and lyrics. So yes, one could listen to this song and some of its lines -- a new, fantastic point of view -- but when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear that now I’m in a whole new world with you -- unbelievable sights, indescribable feelings -- with new horizons to pursue -- every moment, red letter -- let me share this whole new world with you -- as being not just about these two characters falling in love, but also about a brand new, exciting friendship.

Aladdin and Jasmine connect, Jafar is banished from the palace, and the Sultan blesses Jasmine’s decision to court “Prince Ali” -- but yeah, just as everything looks like everything’s coming up roses, things start to fall apart when Aladdin breaks his promise to set Genie free. (Another fun story: when I first saw this scene in the Aladdin Musical Spectacular at Disney California Adventure way back in the day, I couldn’t stop myself from yelling “BOO!” from the audience. The people around me giggled. Then the actor playing Genie, without looking away from the actor playing Aladdin, raised a hand and pointed out at the audience. “You hear that?” he said. “That’s my THOUGHTS.” I died laughing.) But yes, thanks to Aladdin’s mistake, Jafar is able to take advantage of the situation and snatch Genie for himself, singing his own quasi-solo, Prince Ali (reprise). Like Aladdin, Jafar doesn’t get a full number to call his own, but fortunately he doesn’t end up needing one: Prince Ali (reprise) is more than powerful enough on its own, and it concludes with the most amazing, deranged laugh in Disney history. Really, as good as some other Disney villain laughs are, I would say that Jafar’s is easily the best.

Jafar becomes the Sultan of Agrabah, imprisoning both Jasmine and the Sultan and banishing Aladdin to the ends of the earth. Even if Jasmine’s a prisoner, though, she is no damsel: in Christina’s words, she’s the Princess Leia to Jafar’s Jabba the Hutt, clever and proud as ever and ready to do whatever is necessary to break free...even if it means kissing our villain in order to distract him long enough for Aladdin to try to snatch back the lamp. (Insert a cringe from all three of us here.) Alas, the ruse fails, and Jafar discovers that Aladdin has returned alive and well. The “Battle” track used for this climax is just epic accompaniment, easily being up there among some of the best “final confrontation” instrumental tracks in Disney history like Sleeping Beauty’s “Battle With the Forces of Evil” and The Great Mouse Detective’s “Big Ben Chase.” The visuals as well are also thrilling -- speaking as someone with acute ophidiophobia, Jafar turning into a giant cobra is pretty terrifying.

Despite all of the odds being against him, our diamond in the rough street rat nonetheless is able to outsmart Jafar, and Jafar, tricked into the form of a Genie, is imprisoned in his own pitch black lamp, possessing all of the power he longed for but ignorantly sacrificing the power of autonomy he had already. (As Jen said, and I quote, “Karma, bitch!”) I just adore how Aladdin outwitted Jafar too: not only does it really suit his Slytherin personality to win through craftiness rather than just brute force, but it also perfectly showcases the difference between Aladdin and Jafar: namely, that Aladdin knows empathy, and Jafar does not. Jafar only sees what Genie has that he doesn’t have, supreme magical power, and longs to possess it -- Aladdin sees Genie’s circumstances fully and knows that he is both amazingly powerful in a magical sense and utterly powerless when it comes to making his own choices.

Accompanying the film’s resolution is the beautiful instrumental “Happy End in Agrabah,” which dips into lighthearted whimsy, resignation, bittersweet joy and exhilaration, alongside echoes of both “To Be Free“ and A Whole New World. Aladdin gives Genie his greatest desire -- his freedom -- and in the process makes, in Jen’s words, the most selfless wish you could make...for only a diamond in the rough would make a wish for someone else, not for himself. And as Jen also pointed out, the Sultan follows Aladdin’s lead, giving Jasmine her freedom just as Aladdin gave Genie his. Our story ends with all of our protagonists earning the freedom that they’ve so longed for -- the freedom to achieve their own happiness -- through their love of each other.

Aladdin may be very “of its era” from a humor point of view, but it’s a movie that truly becomes more resonant with age. When Jen, Christina, and I were kids, we all enjoyed this movie’s flights of fantasy, humor, characters, and songs, but as adults, we can feel for these characters and their desire for freedom more than ever. We can understand how similar these individual characters are, and how even though they’re all in different prisons with different advantages and disadvantages, they all need the same key to unlock their cages -- love and empathy. However much the new Aladdin film diverges from the animated version, I only hope that they remember that core of the movie and how it is integrated into the entire story, from how much Aladdin wishes people would “look closer” when looking at him to Genie’s last words to Aladdin being that “no matter what anybody says, [Aladdin will] always be a prince to [Genie.]” And if it doesn’t, well, we still have the 1992 original...

...and Christina, Jen, and I give that movie three thumbs up!

#d-views #disney reviews #disney #aladdin #reviews #tory jen and christina watch together!! #opinion #analysis #oh boy here i go #aladdin (2019)

[sevenclowds]

Frank Weekend

My account of going to see Frank Iero and the Patience play at the Baltimore Soundstage in Maryland, Sat Apr 22 2017.

My companions for the weekend are my 19 yr old and my friend's 16 yr old daughter. Both their names begin with C and will henceforth be known collectively as C&C. My teen was forced to listen introduced to MCR from the age of 7 and obviously has great musical taste. My friend's teen is a huge fan of the Emo Trinity, but is not familiar with Frank's non-MCR work. "Is Frank the drummer for MCR?" she asks innocently. Oh dear. We gotta lotta educating to do this weekend. Someone needs to save this poor child.

[Very long post. You probably want to put the kettle on for this.]

We leave North Carolina at 8am and make our first stop at 10am at a Starbucks. It is here that I purchase a fateful cup of coffee that will keep me buzzed for the next 19 hrs. Just how strong is Starbucks Pike Place Roast? And what on earth possessed me, a caffeine lightweight, to get a grande instead of a tall? It'll help me keep awake while driving, I thought. Someone punch me.

I treat C&C to my music on the drive. My iTunes music library appears to be like my blog: 95% MCR with the occasional snippet of something random. We make sure to play plenty of Frank, for educational purposes. C&C are huge Hamilton nerds and we listen to the soundtrack as we near DC. As we pass the capital city, I point out that Washington is now literally on our side. Groan. #momjokes

We arrive at our hotel in Baltimore around 4pm, then go out around 5pm. We walk past The Soundstage and there are lots of people lined up waiting to get in. I'm so happy to see several Frank fans wearing the same Death Spells hoodie as me and as we walk past I feel really fucking cool! These are my people! My tribe! They will see my DS merch and know that I am one of them! Whereas last week, walking round Harris Teeter, I felt vaguely conspicuous in my black hoodie with the scorpion on the back, but now, I fit in. I am home. If I didn't have C&C with me I would be lining up there with them. But I have to feed my teens and not leave them to stand outside in the rain, so I sigh, and head toward Shake Shack for some food that we'll loosely call "dinner", like a grown up.

After eating some fries, we head to a spiffy steampunky Barnes & Noble where C&C, both devoted book nerds, are in heaven and bond further over their love of fiction. I'm itching to get to the venue but it's still raining and cold and they're having so much fun that we don't head over there until about 7.30pm.

VIP Ticket Fiasco Two months previously, when buying the tickets online, I wasn't quite fast enough to get the VIP tickets and I sat at my computer spitting curses and venom at those who managed to buy them in 0.2 milliseconds flat. The VIP experience included a private acoustic session before the show, a copy of Parachutes, and a seat in the posh table-and-chairs bit near the side of the stage. But alas, it wasn't to be so I made do with the regular tickets.

So, as we enter the venue, we're informed that we can upgrade to the posh section for an extra $10 each. C&C look thrilled at this idea, and my kid has issues with being in crowds and had been intending to stand quietly near the back, so this is a fantastic opportunity to get a great view without the crush. I relent and upgrade, even though I'm crying inside because I know we've missed out on the private session earlier and I just want to die. Fuck me, I get to sit at a table like somebody's mom. Kill me now. My plan is to stay with C&C for a couple of songs and then venture out into the crowd, but that damn parental mode kicks in and I feel guilty about leaving them so I stay. But actually, the view is really great, even though the atmosphere in the VIP area is nonexistent.

Dave Hause and the Mermaid open the show with some so-so rock stuff. Perfectly fine and competent band to fill the time, although nothing too exciting until the last song, dedicated to Trump, and called Dirty Fucker, causes the crowd to go wild.

Then Frank Iero and his Beardy Wondergroup come out, launch into World Destroyer, and time ceases to exist. It's the first time I've seen Frank since 2007 when he wore his Black Parade jacket (sniff) so I'm very emotional and I'm grinning the whole time. I realize I don't know as many lyrics as I'd like to, on account of Frank lyrics being hard to learn without serious study, which I haven't had time for. I do my best and probably sing a pile of nonsense for the most part. He tells us that today is the first time he's showered in 5 days. Why so gross? He tells us a story about how bad the crime is in Baltimore, which makes everyone nervous about getting home tonight.

I take some great photos

And some not so great photos

After the show, we head to the pizza place next to the venue to kill time until the band hopefully come out. We huddle in the corner by the door and eat pizza. I can't really taste it. Maybe it's because it's gluten free and vegan, maybe it's because I'm really not quite in my body. I realize I'm shaking and figure it's still The Coffee I had earlier plus added adrenaline and fatigue.

I message Kyle @casesandcapitals to come meet us in the pizza place because I know he's here somewhere and we've never met before. Next thing I know, Jen @jen--ne--sais--quoi and Kyle are walking in and I realize three fundamental truths at the exact same time: 

1. Jen has intimidating make-up skills 

2. Kyle IS recognizable without the 5ft tall metal flamingo

3. These people are way too cool for me

I am a little excitable and extra when meeting them and their friends Abbi @grewuponyourbackporch and Cole, but mainly because Jen's jacket is all kinds of awesome.

My new friends eat pizza and go outside to wait again but it's too cold for us so we stay in the restaurant. I feel really sick, I'm still shaking and I feel like crap. In my fevered state I manage to post the same pic to Facebook twice and cannot for the life of me get anyone's name right in the above photo that I post to tumblr. My brain has gone. I'm a mess. I'm not really in my body and I wonder if they'll put "death by frank" as my cause of death.

We go to join everyone outside at about 1.30am because those band members aren't going to meet themselves and we don't want to miss it. It's fucking freezing! You can tell the direction that everyone has traveled to the show by how many blankets they're shivering under. Southerners are suffering and northerners don't give a shit because they're tough as nails. My kid discovers their Hamilton hoodie isn't at all warm but I'm not going to give them my hoodie because I need to meet Frank in my Death Spells hoodie because I'm shallow and a really bad parent. I actually choose to let a child freeze because I want Frank to know I'm a fan and not just someone's mom. Priorities, people!

Evan and Alex keep appearing and disappearing again. They mill around and meet folks, clearly enjoying themselves or at least faking it really well. Me and C&C go stand in the parking garage entrance for a bit because it's possibly 5 degrees warmer than outside. It's 2.20am. C&C want to give it until 2.30 before we leave. It's clear by now that Frank isn't going to come out. But he ALWAYS comes out. I'm faced with the reality of having to leave without meeting him and I'm distraught. I comfort C&C because I feel bad for making them wait all this time but they end up comforting and hugging me. They tell me to wait until 3am and to come speak to Evan because he's being adorable and there's hardly anyone left so we'll have him to ourselves. And so we do, and he's just the loveliest, sweetest man and he fixates on the fact that me and the kiddo are British, haha! We tell him we drove 8 hrs today and he should come to North Carolina. He agrees and says he loves Chapel Hill so maybe that'll happen some day (yeah right). He imparts wisdom on doing what you love and not being obsessed with grades because they won't matter once you leave school. He starts talking to someone else and just as we're thinking of leaving, there's a tap on my shoulder and someone behind me yells, "Oh! Nando's!" It's Evan again, wanting to tell me about his favorite British experience - a restaurant that serves the best chicken. He's so enthusiastic as we discuss Nando's menu, particularly the veggie options and the bean burger. Hilarious! He's my new favorite person without a doubt.

It's 3am and we leave, jogging back to the hotel (because Frank's made us nervous about Baltimore). We get to the room and I get into bed in my clothes because it's too cold to consider taking anything off. My body is still buzzing (can it STILL be The Coffee from this morning or is it shivering?). I get maybe 1-2 hrs sleep because my mind insists on composing Hamilton/FIATP hybrid songs and some of them are actually quite good so I stay up and listen to the inside of my head.

Next day we drive back to NC. It takes 7.5 hrs. I force C&C to listen to the entire Death Spells album and even a little bit of Leathermouth just because I know it's what Jen would have wanted 💜

#frank iero #frank iero and the patience #fiatp #evan nestor #matt olsson #alex grippo #apr 22 2017 #apr 22 show #baltimore #maryland #baltimore soundstage #adultishbandomnet #my show #my photos