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mitochondriaandbunnies · 11 months

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Miami Vice S1E12: Little Prince

Bits and pieces of a good episode mixed with Rich People Heroin Drama.

GAYETY HAS A SEQUEL. GAYETY 2, HOMOEROTIC BOOGALOO

I have mixed feelings about Little Prince. I think it tells a similar story to Milk Run in a lot of ways, and Milk Run is a really stellar episode and this one is... fine? There's some really good bits (and actually, the little bits of physical comedy in this one are utterly delightful), but every time we go back to Sad Rich Boy Mark and his Awful Rich Father Mark I kind of check out.

Trudy is barefoot on the streets of Miami as this episode opens and like. I get it, girl, I get that you're trying to sell being a junkie, but maybe. Maybe don't do that.

A young Giancarlo Esposito makes the Surprised Pikachu Face when Gina and Trudy pull guns on him.

Rico dives on Sonny as soon as they enter the room with all the dealers, which is very sweet of him, but also like, facing drug dealers is your actual job, so also maybe a little bit of an overreaction

All of this is happening to the tune of Relax by the apocryphal Frankie, which is a song that was banned in its original form from radio because it was too much about gay sex and also banned from MTV in its original video form because it was too much about gay sex

What are we trying to say here, Vice

Also the working title of this episode was apparently White Bread and that kills me dead

When they arrest Mark, Tubbs seems to start playing good cop, except that he's very obviously being sincere. As a character, he has a real soft spot for kids, and is always trying to look for ways to get them out of whatever trouble they've gotten in. Sonny sees him doing this and immediately stops his usual Asshole Cop Who Makes Prison Rape Jokes schtick, looks at Tubbs for a long time, softens, and gives the kid a pen. He's clearly a little ashamed over his prior aggression, and follows Tubbs' lead on just. Y'know. Trying to be a good person.

Then, after Mark is picked up by his lawyers, Sonny has a straight up temper tantrum, and then blatantly changes his tune on the behavior we witnessed only a few seconds before. He straightens up, affects a tough guy attitude, and tells Tubbs it was a "nice touch" by "playin' good cop." Tubbs admits he wasn't "playing," and we know Sonny knows that, because he changed his own behavior in response to it. However, he can't admit that he was also trying to be kinder and more understanding, because he's embarrassed about his outburst and pissed off that his case got pulled out from under him. Sonny has to lie and pretend he's heartless here in order to make any of this acceptable, and he swallows that lie for the rest of the episode.

What, really, is polo

Why do we get like 3 straight minutes of it

Sonny follows Mark around at the polo match looking genuinely predatory-- he looks at Mark like he's a target, not a person. There's remorselessness behind his decision-making here-- he's doubling down on being "the bad cop," and he's so desperate to catch the high level drug dealers that he's willing to destroy Mark over it. (Or, perhaps more accurately, he thinks he's willing to destroy Mark over it.)

The little bits of physical acting as Trudy walks Sonny and Rico around the station cracks me up-- Gina, very gently rolling her eyes as Sonny sits on her desk, Sonny, gesturing like an elderly mobster as he's asked to stand up again, Rico deeply bored. It's cute.

All of the bits with Mark are just so soap opera-y

"I've never noticed.... how white this house is"

"I'm sending you to rehab" / "That's like sending me to jail! I'm not going!"

"Why can't you ever see things from my perspective" / "IT'S TOO DEPRESSING"

*rips shirt off crying to reveal wiretap*

It's fine it's fine it's fine that's all fine writing and not ridiculous melodrama right right right

Trudy attempts to tell Sonny and Rico that you really just can't send Old Money to jail because Lawyers and Rigged System and they're both like : ) : ) : ) but what if we can

Gina resting her chin on Trudy's shoulder so they can both look through the camera is too damn cute

There's a scene where Rico buys a hotdog in order to talk to a hotdog vendor about what he may have seen near a suspicious warehouse, and then immediately throws it away after leaving. I think this is, hilariously, the first indication we get that Tubbs is a vegetarian. Because no one has actually said the V word yet, though, the scene mostly just makes Rico look like a fussy snob who wastes food.

"I thought that being a Jorgenson was enough, something in our blood. Above it all. Above the law." Wow that is uhhh. That is a real blunt thesis re: the power of wealth, there

And then immediately after he says this, Mark Sr. starts crying about how he perpetuated the cycle of abuse and should probably have told his son he loved him or something

I really can't with the Marks Soap Opera

After Mark Sr. is arrested and Mark Jr. disappears, Tubbs starts to ask Sonny if they did the right thing. Sonny blinks, pauses, and lies baldly: yes. It was the right thing. It was "good, routine policework." Both of them know this isn't true, and the worst part is: in the grand scheme of Miami Vice, this episode actually is pretty close to "good, routine policework." They arrest the top guy. There's no bloody shootout. The law... kind of works?

And yet: it's still a lie, and it's the same lie Sonny tells Rico at the beginning of the episode, and the same lie he tells himself at the polo match. The system is corrupt, being a cop means propping up that system, and there will always be collateral damage, even in the cleanest of cases. The thesis of the show is right there from the very beginning-- it should come as no surprise that by season 5 these two men realize that the only moral option is to quit.

Also I am 99% certain that the implication was originally supposed to be that Mark Jr. died of an overdose or something, because there's like a 2-second coda after this conversation where he... gets in a Jeep? And some very obvious dubbing in post where Sonny says something corny like "Maybe now... he'll have a chance." I mean, it's nice that he doesn't die, but he was probably intended to.

This:

#miami vice #miami vice s1 #s1e12 #sonny crockett #rico tubbs #gina calabrese #trudy joplin #little prince #my gifs

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bcacstuff · 1 year

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It's a 50/50 he'll be at Landcon. He isn't always there and thst is awfully close to another commitment he has. Also, yes confirmed SS at Reverve Bar Top Shelf event, even though SS has not been heavily featured in the promo, and is a new addition, it's nit not confirm Sam himself will be there. Maybe his fans will buy tickets and maybe he will show. It's an okay marketing move but not a big event n the spirits world, although SS is trying to make it look great. Premiere of Love Again in Vegas??? That is questionable. Yes, think that you belief that because of Celine, and to promote her, a good idea, however, Strouse likes NY premieres, and the story set in NY, and comparisons to NY comedies, Sam's recent NY photo shoots, a NY premiere makes more sense. SDCC is a go from the inside track, and Gin is going to launch in US, Miami,so yes Sam will be US anchored for Beg May through July. His number one California peaker stalker is on alert.

Yes, well at this point it's all still speculation, based on assumptions and maybe some expectations based on what we know. But I think we do agree that May - July (perhaps even August or part August) will be mostly US.

Regarding LA premiere, it could be NYC too or perhaps both NYC and LV. It makes sense if they want CD to be part of it, but I figure she wont be traveling all over the US for it because of her health.

What I did find out though, is that they also shot scenes in LV. On the IMDb page you can find that there was a LV Unit. As well as a stand in for SH. That, and the information Priyanka gave in an interview in February 2021, when she was asked if she did scenes with CD, and she answered no, because of Covid but maybe later this year... Gives me reason to doubt they (PC as well SH) never filmed directly with CD in one room.

The only time possible, that S could have filmed some scenes in LV, would be August 2021, after he left Mexico. He was MIA for a bit, showed up in LA though. But I vaguely remember I had an Anon telling me he was spotted in a lobby of a hotel in LV waiting for somebody. It was never confirmed though. But if it was true, he could have filmed some additional scenes. That said, I'm still not convinced he filmed in one room with CD. No pics of them together, the footage in the trailer looks like one of them was in front of a green screen and it was put together in the edit room.

Anyway, sorry, got a little distracted lol. Recent photoshoot you say? You think he had a photoshoot in NYC when he was there in January? It's possible of course, it's just we never found out so far what he was doing in NYC at that time.

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theycallme-thejackal · 2 years

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what ab when the article from the photo prompt, comes out?

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T

Part 1 | Part 2

Uptown/Downtown: Cohorts in Comedy by Charles Ellsworth

If you have ever read a newspaper or watched a late night talk show, it's likely the name Lenny Bruce is familiar to you. The comic has been working nightclubs across the country since 1947, and this past November, the controversial comedian packed the house at Carnegie Hall (during a blizzard, no less).

The name Mrs. Maisel, on the other hand, may not ring a bell for many of our readers. If you frequent the comedy clubs of downtown Manhattan or happened to see Shy Baldwin on tour last year, you may have seen the rising star delivering surprising, spontaneous, or even startling performances.

Mrs. Maisel is the stage name of Miriam Weissman, and if you were to cross her path, you would never expect her to be a comic, much less be able to go toe-to-toe with arguably the best comic of his generation. She sits primly in a chair, wearing a polka-dotted dress, hair coiffed to perfection.

Lenny Bruce has made a name for himself as a notorious, often obscene comic, discussing politics, religion, and his (rather lengthy) arrest record. Mrs. Maisel presents as a proper, put together mother and (ex) wife, her sets laden with stories of the difficulties of being a mother, a daughter, and a divorcée.

The two comedians could not be any more different, and yet, if you are ever fortunate enough to be in the presence of both at once, you could understand why there have been rumors surrounding their relationship for the past year. Their banter is effortless, each one setting the other up for a joke executed expertly.

But how did this seemingly unlikely friendship begin?

"Drunkenly," jokes Bruce, receiving a laugh from Maisel, who goes on to tell the story of the night she became a comedian.

"My husband had just left me," she explains. "So I got very, very drunk, wandered onto the stage at the Gaslight, and then proceeded to get arrested and thrown in the back of a police car next to [Lenny]."

While Maisel talks of the night they met, Bruce watches fondly. "I knew right then that she was special," he says.

When Maisel tries to call his bluff, the male comic simply shrugs and adds, "I'm rarely wrong about this kind of thing. I've been doing comedy for a long time, and there are good comics, there are great comics, and there are the few legends. She's going to be one of them."

I am inclined to agree.

I had the good fortune of seeing Mrs. Maisel perform in Miami while she was on tour with Shy Baldwin. Her sets are often unplanned. The night I happened to see her, she had just discovered her parents in the lobby of the Fontainebleau Hotel, where the tour was performing. The set that followed was some of the most inspired improvised comedy I have ever had the pleasure of seeing.

A soft blush meets her cheeks when I tell her so, but before she can comment, Bruce jumps in. "Didn't you sleep on a pool lounger that night?" He asks, and Maisel lets out a surprisingly undignified laugh.

"I did! I didn't want to wake Carole [Keen, bassist for Shy Baldwin], and Lenny had kept me out until sunrise."

"You had fun that night," Bruce retorts, smirking from behind his hand.

"I had fun that night," she confirms, smiling at him and ruffling his hair affectionately.

So what's next for the two comics?

After his triumph at Carnegie Hall, Bruce disappeared from the comedy scene for a few months for reasons on which he declined to comment, but he is back next week at the Copacabana.

As for Mrs. Maisel?

"I just started working as the warm up comic for The Gordon Ford Show," she says, looking toward Bruce, who gazes at her proudly. "It allows me to make people laugh, support my family, and still have time to work the club scene to work new material."

I ask whether her ambitions are in the realm of television, and she shrugs with a smile. "I love doing stand up. In a way, my marriage ending was the best thing that ever happened to me. It led me to discovering something I'm great at that not a lot of people can do. So I want to work as much as I can. Everywhere I can. But the goal?" She looks to Bruce again, sharing a smile with him before answering.

"Carnegie Hall."

When that day comes, this reporter will be in line at the box office, second only to Lenny Bruce.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #writing prompt #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #answers

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

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Midge writing In the margins of Lenny’s dictionary

It's not like he uses it a lot, but it's handy to have available.

He does notice it's out of place after Midge goes home, though, so he opens it up.

And she's written in it in red pen.

Comedy - Lenny Bruce frantically running out of your apartment, having a nervous breakdown over domesticity and losing his shoe on the sidewalk without realizing it.

Right. Never living that down.

Forgiveness - Something shared between two people who respect and trust one another.

There had been a lot of forgiveness between them, between his insulting breakdown in front of her building, and her turning down the Bennett gig...

Contentment - A cigarette shared before sunrise, while walking along the water in Miami.

He sighs. She's not wrong.

Breathless - How one feels on a very cold night, in a very blue room, when one's dress has been unzipped.

Fuck.

Love - The act of bringing one's umbrella and standing outside someone's playdate.

God he misses her already.

#fic #tmmm #au #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny

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quillbriar · 11 months

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Thinking about the importance of television that they placed in season 5

Like stand up comedy is a live, in-person thing

That’s the gig, you go to a club and you do a set

And, sure, the Gordon Ford show allowed for an anchor for season 5 and also a goal

But all of the other anchors in previous seasons were live clubs/performances (the Gaslight, the Wolford, the Shy tour/Miami)

This season, the anchor and the goal was television

And then they end the whole show with midge and Susie watching tv— but not even anything symbolic or personal, just a game show. There’s no question about Midge or Lenny or even Alfie in the show

It’s like Amazon was like “remember how great television is? Right? Television is so great, and we have so many wonderful choices right here on Prime Video”

Strange last minute of the show

#the marvelous mrs. maisel #marvelous mrs maisel #tmmm spoilers #quillbriar

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ncisladaily · 4 months

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Mama said knock 2023 out.

Grammy winner, 2021 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee and NCIS-verse vet LL Cool J has joined the slate of performers for this Sunday night’s Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve With Ryan Seacrest, airing on ABC.

LL Cool J featuring DJ Z-Trip is set to perform a medley of hits just before the clock strikes midnight, as the annual fête’s Times Square headliner.

Additionally, Grammy winner Cardi B is confirmed to perform poolside from Fontainebleau Miami Beach, as part of this year’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve line-up.

As previously announced, in addition to banter between Seacrest and his Times Square co-host Rita Ora, Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve will feature performances from Megan Thee Stallion, Jelly Roll, Sabrina Carpenter and Tyla (live in New York), plus Aqua, Doechii, Ellie Goulding, Green Day, Janelle Monáe, Loud Luxury x Two Friends with Bebe Rexha, Ludacris, Nile Rodgers & CHIC, Paul Russell, Reneé Rapp with Coco Jones and Thirty Seconds to Mars (from Hollywood).

Some comedy segments are on tap, too, courtesy of YouTuber stand-up comic Gabriel “Fluffy” Iglesias, who will rank his least favorite fashion trends of 2023; comedian and impressionist Matt Friend; comedian and actress Patricia Williams aka Ms. Pat, who will discuss “things that went on strike in 2023”; and stand-up comic/Bookie star and EP Sebastian Maniscalco, who will share pop culture moments in 2023 that “ain’t right.”

#LL Cool J

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queermtl · 7 months

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QUEER MTL THINGS TO DO: October 2023

It’s October in Montréal, and autumn in the city always starts off with a bang and ends with the fun and frolics of “gay Christmas”—Halloween! This month, Montréal is stuffed to the brim with events, parties and unique experiences painted in all the colours of the LGBTQ+ rainbow. From drag to community, circuit to underground, here’s some of our picks for the best LGBTQ+ things to do in the city. For further announcements, including those not announced at time of publication, follow QueerMTL on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr! Got an event coming up? DM it our way!

EVENTS

Sunday, October 1

🎉 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

Monday, October 2

✍️ Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Tuesday, October 3

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal,

Wednesday, October 4

✍️ Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

🧩 Ellelui presents Games Night, Ping Pong Club

Thursday, October 5

🎤 Queer Karaoke Night, BMP Co-op

Saturday, October 7

🎉 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

🎤 Bareoke: Strip Karaoke, Café Cléopatra

Sunday, October 8

😆 A Very Pretentious Comedy Show #10—A Very Sandy One with Nart, Sandy Bridges, Jonathan Burrello, Mbissine, Zak Kik, John Cotrocois, Sandy El Bitar and Raquel Maestre, Diving Bell Social Club

Monday, October 9

✍️ Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Tuesday, October 10

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

Wednesday, October 11

✍️ Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Thursday, October 12

🎤 Queer Karaoke Night, BMP Co-op

🎭 Queer Broadway cabaret with Melanie Thompson, Amanda Caron Garbacz, Jonathan D’Amour, Marc Ducusin, Danielle Keiko Eyer, Maya Lewis, Jeanne Motulsky, Ciatha Night, Charlotte Paradis, Veronica Schnitzer, Kenny Stein and Joseph-Salvatore Vitale, Café Cléopatre

🎥 L’Amour à Minuit: Vampyros Lesbos (1971), Cinéma L’Amour

Friday, October 13

🧙‍♀️ Maleficarum MTL—Vamps & Witches Edition, 4000 rue St-Ambroise

Saturday, October 14

👠 Femmes Fatales Burlesque, Café Cléopatra

🧙‍♀️ Maleficarum MTL—Vamps & Witches Edition, 4000 rue St-Ambroise

📚 Violet Hour Book Club meets to discuss House Within a House by Nicholas Dawson, Archives gaies du Québec

Sunday, October 15

🎉 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

🧙‍♀️ Maleficarum MTL—Vamps & Witches Edition, 4000 rue St-Ambroise

Monday, October 16

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Jam d’impro contact, en mixité choisie, White Wall Studio

✍️ Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Tuesday, October 17

🎥 REEL GAY: Jennifer’s Body with Butterscotch Blondie, Diving Bell Social Club

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

Wednesday, October 18

✍️ Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Thursday, October 19

👠 Les Folies Draglesques with Miami Minx, Uma Gahd, Aizysse Baga, Bonbon Bombay, Celesta O’Lee, Eldritch Mor and Selma Gahd, Cabaret Mado

🎤 Queer Karaoke Night, BMP Co-op

Saturday, October 21

🤝 Queer Business Networking Event, L’Etage

🏳️‍⚧️ Devenir parent quand on est trans ou non-binaire, Coalition des familles LGBTQ+

🎤 Bareoke: Strip Karaoke, Café Cléopatra

Sunday, October 22

🎉 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 Lesbian / Queer Womyn Slow Dating 27-45, Rockaberry

Monday, October 23

✍️ Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Tuesday, October 24

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

Wednesday, October 25

✍️ Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Thursday, October 26

🎤 Queer Karaoke Night, BMP Co-op

Sunday, October 29

🎉 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

Monday, October 30

✍️ Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Tuesday, October 31

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal.

PARTIES

Saturday, October 7

🥳 District Events’ RISE with GSP and Paskal Daze, Bain Mathieu

Sunday, October 8

🥳 FRKY | GIVING with Miguel Graça, Moka, Rawsoul, Plastik Patrik, Manclaudy and Renée-Claude Morin, La Sotterenea

🥳 District Events’ RITUAL, a Day Party with B’ugo and Karsten Sollors, Le Balcon

Saturday, October 21

🥳 Un samedi soir dans le VILLAGE!—Lez Danze with DJ Lili Manseau, Taverne Urbaine

Friday, October 27

🥳 Queen & Queer Dance Party—Édition Halloween with Lis Dalton and DJ Sam, Bain Mathieu

Sunday, October 29

🥳 Freak Fest—The Afro Caribbean Halloween Party, Jet Nightclub

DES SPORTS

🛼 Montréal Roller Derby Presents Haunting on Mont Royal Hill on October 6-8, 2023 with New Skids, Les Sexpos, Tri-City, Gotham A, Gotham B and Team Ontario, Arena St Louis.

👯‍♀️ Initiation au Tango Queer, mercredi 11 octobre, Lespacemaker

👠 Twice a month on every second Tuesday, Bring It! hosts an OTA night of ballroom and vogue with commentator and DJ. Follow their Instagram for dates and details.

🚲 Montréal Queer Bike Polo meet on Thursdays, with details on Instagram

🎾 Ligue de dimanche meet at the Parc Louis-Riel tennis courts every Sunday

🤠 Club Bolo—Danse Country Montréal meet on Fridays at the Association sportive et communautaire du Centre-Sud

💃 Tango/Salsa Queer’s continue, with Salsa Queer on Saturdays from 13:30-14:30 and Tango (beginners/intermediate) on Saturdays at 12:00-13:30. Contact [email protected] or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information.

🏐 Les Ratons-Chasseurs (Montréal’s LGBTA dodgeball group) holds regular events. Keep an eye on their Facebook for upcoming opportunities to join in and play.

🕹Montréal Gaymers hosts regular gatherings including board game nights and gaming gatherings. Check their Facebook for what’s next!

🏃🏾Join the Out-Run run and workout club for people relating to the queer / sapphic experience. Details on their Instagram!

🐦 Bird lovers should keep their eye on Queer Birders' regularly scheduled birdwatching events and excursions. Join the Facebook group and get those binoculars at the ready.

DRAG

Montréal’s vibrant drag community features several regularly-scheduled nights hosted by local luminaries, each featuring guest performers. Check venue websites for full line-ups!

Sunday, October 1

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Krystella Fame, Kelly Torrieli and Heaven Genderfck Cabaret Mado

👑 Michel Dorion, 35 ans de carrière, Bar le Cocktail

Monday, October 2

👑 La Petite Drag with the queens of Cabaret Mado, Cabaret Mado

Tuesday, October 3

👑 Full Gisèle with Gisèle Lullaby, Cabaret Mado

Wednesday, October 4

👑 Drag Race Brazil viewing party with Muz’Emma, District Video Lounge

Thursday, October 5

👑 Boom & Précieuse with Lady Boom Boom, Jessie Précieuse, Kiara and Jenna, Cabaret Mado

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Jimmy Moore Drag Show with Jimmy Moore, Complexe Sky

Friday, October 6

👑 Queens of the World Group B with Kleopatra Perfection, Zahra Bizarre, Lily Shade, EmmOtional Damage, Bebe Elle, Dolores Diamonds, Natachatte, Marla Dragn and Queer Latina, Bar Notre Dame Des Quilles

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

Saturday, October 7

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

Sunday, October 8

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Kiara, Bambi Dextrous and Mister Boogie, Cabaret Mado

Tuesday, October 10

👑 Full Gisèle with Gisèle Lullaby, Cabaret Mado

Wednesday, October 11

👑 RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 15’s Anetra, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drag Race Brazil viewing party with Muz’Emma, District Video Lounge

Thursday, October 12

👑 Jimmy Moore Drag Show with Jimmy Moore, Complexe Sky

Friday, October 13

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

Saturday, October 14

👑 Queens of the World Group C with Kleopatra Perfection, Lux N’ Such, Augusta Wind, Psyberia, Meh Dafok, Lady Monrose, Divaartist, Muz’Emma and Zaya, Bar Notre Dame Des Quilles

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Crystal Starz, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Lara: Hommage à Lara Fabian with Ciatha Night, Bar Le Cocktail

Sunday, October 15

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Jessie Précieuse, Marla Deer and Eva Moist, Cabaret Mado

Tuesday, October 17

👑 Full Gisèle with Gisèle Lullaby, Cabaret Mado

👑 Under Kingstruction presents Hallo-Queer with Infernal Desires, Bar Le Cocktail

Wednesday, October 18

👑 Les Golden Girls with Tracy Trash, Lana Dalida, Marla Deer and Prudence, Cabaret Mado

👑 Lulu’s Spooks for Diva with Lulu Shade, Dupre Latour, Miss Behave, Val The Freak and Woody Fungi, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Drag Race Brazil viewing party with Muz’Emma, District Video Lounge

Thursday, October 19

👑 Les Folies Draglesques with Miami Minx, Uma Gahd, Aizysse Baga, Bonbon Bombay, Celesta O’Lee, Eldritch Mor and Selma Gahd, Cabaret Mado

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Jimmy Moore Drag Show with Jimmy Moore, Complexe Sky

Friday, October 20

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

Saturday, October 21

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Emma Déjavu, Bar Le Cocktail

Sunday, October 22

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Sasha Baga, Lady Boom Boom and Bobépine, Cabaret Mado

👑 Sally-D nu-D with Sally-D, Bar Le Cocktail

Monday, October 23

👑 Derek Wood presents Tim Burton with Uma Gahd, Demone Lastrange, Lana Dalida, Blueberry Moore and Roxy, Cabaret Mado

Tuesday, October 24

👑 Full Gisèle with Gisèle Lullaby, Cabaret Mado

Wednesday, October 25

👑 Sashalicious with Sasha Baga, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drag Race Brazil viewing party with Muz’Emma, District Video Lounge

Thursday, October 26

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Jimmy Moore Drag Show with Jimmy Moore, Complexe Sky

Friday, October 27

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

Saturday, October 28

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Ciatha Night, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Rendez-vous de la drag with Rita Baga, La Big Bertha, Ra’jah O’Hara, Michel Dorion, Uma Gahd and more, Palais des congrès de Montréal

Sunday, October 29

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Cabaret Mado

👑 Rendez-vous de la drag with Rita Baga, La Big Bertha, Ra’jah O’Hara, Michel Dorion, Uma Gahd and more, Palais des congrès de Montréal

Monday, October 30

👑 Filles de peur: Volume 2 with Aizysse Baga, Lady Boom Boom, Kiara and La Freak du Show, Cabaret Mado

Tuesday, October 31

👑 Full Gisèle with Gisèle Lullaby, Cabaret Mado

#mtlmoments #lgbttravel #2slgbtq #drag #montreal #queermtl #lgbtq #nightlife #thingstodo #events

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ccthewriter · 9 months

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CC's New Watch Ranking - June 2023

Every month on Letterboxd, I make a list of the 10 best films I’ve seen for the first time. It’s a fun way to compare movies separated in time, genre, and country of origin, and helps me keep track of what I’m watching! This is a breakdown of those films.

June! An exhausting month. We wrapped on the movie after a number of 12+ hour days. That, on top of two new jobs that picked up this month, turned June into a stressed mess for me. I spent a lot of time in bed and in the garden, trying to quiet an overstrained brain. For the first time in three years, I have seen only the 10 films on this list this month! That’s why Zaslav felt safe firing all the TCM folks, he knew I was away. But this gives me a chance to discuss some movies I wasn’t crazy about and explore why. There’s something to be learned from every film, even those that don’t please. (I am going to yadda-yadda through some entries, though.)

Click below to read the breakdown! Click HERE to view the list on Letterboxd!

10. Night Moves

1975- Arthur Penn

Was kind of disappointed that this didn’t move for me as it does for others! It reminded me too much of this schlocky film I watched earlier this year Stick. Stick had Burt Reynolds going to Miami to be a double-agent chauffeur for the mob. Or something. Night Moves had the exact same thing happen? Or something? Maybe that’s on me for not paying better attention.

I promised myself I would explore why this didn’t capture me. The best I got is that it’s a slow moving mystery centered on a rather boring figure. Next!

9. Bringing Up Baby

1938 - Howard Hawks

See, I heard about this movie a long time ago. Never in my life did I think the ‘Baby’ in the title was a leopard! This is a fun slapstick comedy about a man who fumbles his hot paleontologist wife for a pathologically lying Katherine Hepburn. I get it, who wouldn’t do the same in that situation, but I was surprised there wasn’t more back and forth between Hepburn and Grant’s fiance. Not quite as charming as another slapstick comedy on this list, but still immensely satisfying.

Cary Grant in a fluffy nightie? 👀 Reeks of gender.

8. Bend of the River

1952 - Anthony Mann

The river! It bends! I find myself watching a lot of pre-1955 movies while I’m doing other tasks. Cowboy flicks and noirs make great background noise. Their rhythms and plots can be so predictable that you can fall right back in if you lose attention for a few minutes. This one gripped me, though. My cinematic nemesis James Stewart plays a black hatted cowboy trying to reinvent himself, escorting a group of settlers to their new home in Oregon. The supplies they ordered don’t arrive in time, so before winter sets in he rides to find what happened to them, visiting the den of villainy and sin known as… Portland. It’s very funny to see the city depicted as a town full of drunken gold miners and thieves, when in a century it will be home to queer witches and their burlesques. (Hi Caity <3) Fun plot, a few interesting reversals, and more colonial assumptions than I can typically stand. It’s no McCabe and Mrs. Miller, but if you’re in the mood for a PNW Western, look no further.

7. Step Brothers

2008 - Adam McKay

A movie so culturally dominant that I knew a huge amount of lines without ever having to see it. It was fun! Will Ferrell and John C. Riley have perfect comedic chemistry, and embody this strange energy of 15 year olds trapped in 40 year old bodies perfectly. The entire film works off of their performance. Just like last month’s Face/Off, two actors giving singular, unique performances is all you need to make a memorable picture.

6. Battling Butler

1926 - Buster Keaton

It’s Buster Keaton! It was fine. I don’t have any more interesting thoughts on him in this movie than I would have in the next one.

5. The Cameraman

1928 - Buster Keaton, Edward Sedgwick

Extremely fun. Buster doing a bit of metacommentary on how artists are valued, and the systems they have to engage with in order to find work. Extra satisfying to view amidst the writer’s strike. These studio heads would have nothing without the footage that the people on the ground capture. The Tong War battle at the end is particularly engaging. It’s the sort of Looney Tunes/Roger Rabbit comic energy that I adore, able to float through a conflict without any worry or care. Satisfying, destiny-bound ending.

4. Once Upon a Time in America

1984 - Sergio Leone

Now we get to the good stuff. Sergio Leone is synonymous with the Wild West - why is it so surprising that he would take on another classic tale of Americana? A gangster drama, an immigrant story, a distinctly East Coast experience of the twentieth century and the superpower that defined it. Where his cowboy movies focus on the mythic qualities of its protagonists - framed among giant landscapes, attention drawn to their weapons and horses - the protagonists of this film are framed within a series of relationships. It is their association with the people around them, the space between their bodies, that Leone captures so well. It is a promise of genius from a filmmaker whose career ended too early. This is a freewheeling biopic of a Lower East Side urchin who rises up towards the top, intersecting with high levels of power and upheavals in his closest bonds. Framed by an opium dream, not afraid to break free from logic, this is a masterful exploration of a cinematic space from one of our best directors.

3. Asteroid City

2023 - Wes Anderson

I feel so lucky to be alive at a time when I can see Wes Anderson movies in theaters. The sheer thrill of this opening sequence…. A black and white TV format exploding into a wide frame, desert-chic phantasmagoria, a MINIATURE TRAIN MODEL title sequence… god. Irreplaceable cinematic moments. It needs a gigantic screen to be really understood.

I think a lot of the theatre-going experience, of the crowd itself, as I remember this film. It was a great sample audience. A group of teen boys who must have just started their summer break. Several pairs of old women enjoying long-scheduled friend dates. A nuclear family. Me, alone, having made use of the Value Tuesday discounts. ($1 off hot dogs!) The whole crowd laughed throughout the thing - has Anderson ever been this funny? It made me feel a lot of hope, that an audience would take such pleasure in little background beats and quiet humor. Much of movie rhetoric paints The Audience writ-large as a bunch of mindless Marvel fans who need jokes telegraphed from a mile away. How hard the subtle humor hit really made me happy.

The story itself is something I’m going to have to meditate on. Anderson is working some meta-commentary that can be hard to grasp with only one viewing. I get the sense he’s looking at his own work and his style of directing. He’s famous for his ensembles - it’s a movie about a cast making a play. He’s famous for his invented worlds - we walk backstage and meet a writer-director who literally lives in a set after the performances are done. He’s a director beset by nostalgia for times he never lived - Jeffrey Wright says to a bunch of young geniuses, “Should have picked a better time to be born.” This is why I feel such a thrill, such satisfaction, in being alive while his movies are airing. I get to witness the years, hopefully decades, of discussion that this movie inspires. I think this is already ripe for a “Underappreciated in its time despite being his masterpiece” sort of thing.

2. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

2023 - Joaquim Dos Santos, Justin K. Thompson, Kemp Powers

God, what a lovely film to watch. My gushing excitement for this is cut by the recent revelations about its production. I spit on the names of Lord and the names of Miller, I wish them to suffer as they have made others suffer. I think of how beautiful this film is - how every frame is a gorgeous vortex, how you could hit pause at any moment and drink in one billion details that all add up to an incredible whole. I think of the well-crafted story, the nail-biting cliff hanger, the desire I had walking out of the theatre for simply MORE. And I think of how much better this could be if the artists making it were paid more fairly and given more breaks. Look at how beautiful this movie is - IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE BEAUTIFUL IF THE WORKPLACE WAS LESS TOXIC. I reject any narrative about this film that says that, somehow, all the blood sweat and tears made it what it is. No. Absolutely not. This move is what it is because of hundreds of people toiling *despite* the invented hardships. It is so symptomatic of what is wrong in Hollywood, why so many people are striking now. They are being hampered from making their work excel because of these greedy people at the top who project their insecurity and petty rage all the way down.

Anyway. I love Miles. I love Gwen. I love all my Spiderfriends. Hope to see them again some day under less toxic circumstances.

1. What’s Up, Doc?

1972 - Peter Bogdanovich

I’ve been studying the screwball comedy this year. It’s an oft-used term without a great definition. It’s got romance and laugh, it has some odd personalities… but what else? Does it need an aggressive woman? A reluctant man? Do they need to be thrust together by fate? Do you *have* to have an outstanding ensemble, or does that just happen by coincidence? As I try to pick apart these elements I watch this on a whim one day and see that Peter Bogdanovich has already done all that research and found his answer. Screwball comedy? It looks like this. It’s What’s Up, Doc?

From the old-Hollywood opening credits that’s a hand turning a book, to the delightful absurdity that is its central premise - what if a spy, a jewel thief, and some dude all had the same luggage? - everything about this is finely tuned to make you laugh. Barbara Streisand is more or less literally playing Bugs Bunny. How amazing is that? There are so many things that will make you well up laughter that I hesitate to try and explain them more. Just watch this incredibly funny, charming movie. I have a private litmus test for how good a movie is. Often I’ll watch stuff with my wife sitting next to me as she plays video games. If a movie drags her attention away from the game and keeps her locked in the whole time, that is a great film. It was that way with this. Highly recommended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked any of these thoughts feel free to follow me on Letterboxd, where I post reviews and keep meticulous track of every movie I watch. Look forward to more posts like these next month!

#movies #film #cc oc #letterboxd #movie ranking #What's Up Doc?#across the spider verse #Asteroid City #Once Upon A Time In America #The Cameraman #Battling Butler #Step Brothers #Bend of the River #Bringing Up Baby #Night Moves

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mogwai-movie-house · 2 years

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Every Known Instance of A Remake Being Better Than The Original

1. The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) ★★★★★★★★★☆

The 1922 silent with Douglas Fairbanks was a great success but it is the effervescent Errol Flynn remake which became the blueprint for all future depictions of the myth, and essentially what everyone thinks about when you mention the name.

2. The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939) ★★★★★★★★☆☆

The 12th attempt was the charm, and Basil Rathbone, in the role he was born to play, slips on the deerstalker and strides effortlessly into cinematic history as the perfect Holmes and the blueprint for every attempt that followed.

3. The Fly (1986) ★★★★★★★★★★

Cronenberg replaced the cheap special effects and wooden acting of the original with a serious treatment of the premise, unforgettable shocks and genuine emotional depth, in what seemed in the 1980s to be a devastating AIDS allegory hidden in a monster movie. It's a perfect film, in that I can think of no possible way it could be improved, and it (barely) contains Jeff Goldblum's single finest performance ever.

4. The Thing (1982) ★★★★★★★★★★

As with The Fly, John Carpenter immeasurably improved on the original B-movie by adding fantastic effects, flawless performances and chilling believability.

5. The Maltese Falcon (1941) ★★★★★★★★★★

There was nothing particularly *wrong* with the original from 1931, except that it suffered the misfortune of being so completely overshadowed by the absolute perfection of John Huston's remake that no-one even remembers it exists.

6. Red Dragon (2002) ★★★★★★★★☆☆

So nice to see the story without the shoulder pads and designer stubble and other Miami Vice-like nonsense of 1986's "Manhunter". Red Dragon is better acted, better told, and a better movie experience all round. Also, and let's be clear about this, anyone but Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter is not Hannibal Lecter.

7. Twelve Monkeys (1995) ★★★★★★★★★☆

Much more fleshed-out, emotionally powerful and better made in every way than the short film which inspired it, 1962's La Jetée.

8. The Sound of Music (1965) ★★★★★★★★★☆

Musical version of the obscure 1956 German movie 'Die Trapp-Familie' resulted in immortal songs and a perennial classic.

9. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (1988) ★★★★★★★★☆☆

The original 'Bedtime Story', starring David Niven and Marlon Brando(!), is worth checking out the once for the novelty but the remake 20 years later is far, far, funnier and one of Steve Martin's very best.

10. A Fistful of Dollars (1964) ★★★★★★★★★☆

Where you stand on this is a matter of taste, but no-one would dispute this remake of the Japanese samurai movie 'Yojimbo' resulted in one of the greatest westerns ever made.

11. Heat (1995) ★★★★★★★★★☆

Michael Mann's own remake of an earlier made-for-TV film called 'L.A Takedown' which everyone agrees eclipses the first attempt.

12. The Three Musketeers (1948) ★★★★★★★★★☆

The 14th film version of the classic tale ended up in Gene Kelly's hands the most fun, although the Richard Lester version from 1973 is probably close to its equal.

13. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939) ★★★★★★★★★★

The silent version with Lon Chaney is rightly considered a groundbreaking work, but is in every way an inferior cinematic experience to this sublime piece of poetry, and Charles Laughton's Quasimodo blows Chaney out of the water, too, along with pretty much every other actor that has ever lived.

14. The Cat and the Canary (1939) ★★★★★★★★★★

The original "reading of the will in a spooky mansion" story was made twice before in 1927 and 1930, but the third time they hit the jackpot, creating perhaps the best ever horror comedy and up there with the cream of the 'Road' movies as Bob Hope's funniest film. Great eerie atmosphere, non-stop one liners and at least one genuine scare to make you jump. Somehow it all just works.

15. His Girl Friday (1940) ★★★★★★★★★★

Ben Hecht's newspaper reporter comedy 'The Front Page' has been remade a bunch of times from 1931 onwards, but Howard Hawk's idea to change the sex of one of the leads and add a romantic angle resulted in easily the best version. The fastest, funniest dialogue of all time and Cary Grant at his zenith. A perfect film in every way, which age repeatedly fails to wither.

16. El Dorado (1967) ★★★★★★★★★☆

John Wayne and Howard Hawks enjoyed making 1959's "Rio Bravo" so much they got back together eight years later and unofficially made it all over again. The later film greatly benefits from actors Robert Mitchum and James Caan replacing crooner Dean Martin and teenybopper idol Ricky Nelson in the original, streamlining and buffing up everything that was good about the first to create maybe the most enjoyable western of all time.

17. The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) ★★★★★★★★★☆

The seventh cinematic version of Oscar Wilde's haunting novel, but by far the best. There's something deeply poetic and indefinably otherworldly about it that has seldom, if ever, been matched.

18. The Departed (2006) ★★★★★★★★★☆

Martin Scorcese's take on the 2002 Hong Kong crime thriller 'Infernal Affairs' ended up as his best movie in 10 years and - not that I place inordinate stock in such things - a 'Best Picture' oscar.

19. Some Like It Hot (1959) ★★★★★★★★★☆

Most surprisingly this most perfect of comedies was a remake of the obscure French film 'Fanfare Of Love', which has a grand total of 1 reviews on IMDB.

20. Farewell, My Lovely (1975) ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

Robert Mitchum was admittedly a little long in the tooth to play Marlowe in 1975 but nails it all the same. Previously filmed as 'Murder My Sweet' in 1944.

#film recommendations #classic movies

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clerati · 2 years

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My first attempt a writing MidgeLenny. A Miami reimagining, sort of, from Lenny’s POV.

When he’d met her, she’d been a bit hazy around the edges. No, not the night in the squadcar. He’d been distracted by her lack of clothing, truth be told, to really take full note of her. No, it was the morning of their arrests that had gotten him. “But do you love it?” What could he say? He was a man addicted to the beautiful things he couldn’t quite have, didn’t quite deserve. Comedy was just one instance of this habit. She was just the latest.

So, standing outside Lucky 13, eyeing the bed and imagining the smell of her, the real smell of just her… yeah, things had been hazy at the edges all night, and he wasn’t the least bit disappointed (or surprised) when she intentioned on calling it a night before he got a taste of her.

“Wait.” Hazy makes him impulsive. The spotlight was every bit of proof he needed for that one. His body stuttered when she turned around at his words. Suddenly, unable to bare the implications of the open door, he glid it closed by the knob, sauntered over to her halfway to the pool, his coat still around her shoulders, and he tentatively dipped his head, slowly to give her whatever out she might want or need, and hazily brushed his lips against hers. Not a taste, but something in addition to the feel of her skin in his hands and the rhythm of her body pressed against his. When she kissed him, the world went black but for the feel of their lips, the soft and slow and curious nips and tugs. “Maybe someday.” he said into her mouth. He could feel her lips quirk into a smile before she pulled away from him.

“It’s a date.” She returned his coat with a twirl, and he tore his gaze away from her beautiful face to the line of her hem by her knees, briefly overlaid with the alternate reality where he was a better man, a deserving man, a man would could caress the skin there, lift her skirt up her thigh, above even, and kiss her where he wanted to kiss her next.

Maybe someday, she said. He hoped someday would arrive before he’s dead.

#ficlet #midgelenny

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gringolet · 2 years

Note

A month before our story starts, Castiel informed Dean he was going on vacation.

“I’m going on vacation,” he informed. “In Miami. Don’t look for me, I will be drunk.”

“No, you won’t be,” said Dean, paying about a quarter cup’s worth of attention. “You never drink with me.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t drink. And maybe Miami will tell me something about myself.”

“That you hate the heat?”

“I lived in Jerusalem for a time. But you wouldn’t remember.”

“Oh, you’re just being dramatic.”

But Dean wouldn’t remember. And he didn’t remember that Castiel had already filed his PTO request the month earlier (“You don’t need to file PTO to me, I’m not your boss. And you aren’t even going anywhere.” “Yes I am, I’m going to Miami.”). So when Cas turned up gone the morning of October 16th, Dean panicked.

“It’s not like he lives with us,” said Sam. “He’s probably just wandering around somewhere. We’re not angel keepers.”

“We’re not brother keepers,” Dean corrected, smugly. It wasn’t often he out-Bible trivia’ed Sam. “Because we aren’t going to, you know— clobber each other to death with sticks.” When Sam didn’t respond immediately, he frowned. “Right? You’re not going to clobber me to death with a stick, right, Sam?”

“Look, I don’t think you need to worry about Cas.”

“That’s not an answer about the stick bit.”

Sam gave him a long look and then one very brief pat on the shoulder. “You need to get your mind off of this. Let’s go on the road, yeah? I’ve heard New York needs some hunters.”

“City? Eugh.” Sam had always been trying to get them to take trips to NYC together, for inexplicable, out of character, reasons. Dean had always thought this was a thinly veiled trick to get him to sit through a musical production and the concept made him nervous and vaguely threatened. “Alright, one of your gay little Broadway shows. And then look for Cas?”

Sam frowned at his brother. “Dean, how many times do I have to tell you, just because I starred in a high school production of RENT doesn’t mean I’m gay. That was a stage kiss.”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever.”

“And even if I was, that would be an unproductive and unsupportive way to speak to your gay brother. I, personally, would never make fun of a family member for his attraction to men or otherwise.” Sam looked at Dean. “I mean, what would Cas think?”

Dean squinted. “Um. Okay.”

“So New York then?”

This time Dean went for the double combo of squinting and shrugging. “Sure. I hate New York. Sure. I guess.”

So New York it was.

They had been in New York for two days when Sam’s incessant fiddling around on the internet paid off. “I think,” he said, worrying his lower lip in concentration, “that there might be some sort of haunting in a record shop a couple miles from here. Some of the more serious true crime Subreddits are speculating about a serial killer hunting there, but… take a look at this.”

Dean accepted the laptop he was being handed and squinted at the screen. “Four people beaten to death in two months?” he said after a moment’s reading. “Really? Serves them right for buying vinyl, I guess.”

Miasma Records was a dingy basement level shop, with the general smell and air of a dive bar at 11 o’clock in the morning. They seemed to only sell BritPop records and Bob Dylan, with a small collection of buckets labeled things like “funny guys.”, “sex.”, and “things that remind you of the Mountain Goats but we don’t have the Mountain Goats.” Dean didn’t know who the Mountain Goats were. “Funny guys.” was just a handful of stand up comedy albums from the 1950’s, plus one with no cover art that was Sharpied over with a drawing of a cartoon cactus. Dean looked discreetly in the “sex.” bucket, only to find that every single record was Neil Diamond’s ‘Hot August Night’. He held up the first one and made eye contact with the bored-looking teenage clerk.

“Really?” he asked. “Neil Diamond?” The clerk shrugged and went back to scribbling on his arm with a pen.

“Hey, is that Neil Diamond’s ‘Hot August Night?’” said Sam, wandering over and peering over Dean’s shoulder. “I love that guy!”

“Oh, god, Sam.” Dean cringed. “Please tell me you aren’t going to buy this — wait. Cas?”

In the very back of the BritPop section, a trenchcoated figure huddled over a stack of records. His hair was blonde — did Cas bleach his hair? Did angels even need to do that, or could they just snap their fingers and boom, Justin Timberlake circa ‘99. Not that Dean followed Justin Timberlake closely.

“Cas, what are you doing here?”

He didn’t turn around, instead inspecting a Manic Street Preachers album. ‘The Holy Bible’. Of course.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s what you think it is, buddy.”

Cas — no, definitely not Cas — turned around then. “Oh? Enlighten me,” he said, in a pronounced accent. It was something British— Dean didn’t care to differentiate between the types.

“Who the hell are you?”

“You ask that to every stranger you meet in a record store?”

“Just the ones wearing my friend’s coat.”

The man’s eyebrows crept to his hairline. “Wow. Your friend owns this coat? That’s fascinating. Here I was thinking I bought it at Marks and Spencer as a teenager. Why don’t you give me his number so I can get it back to him?”

Dean almost had the instinct to be embarrassed. Of course it wasn’t Cas’ coat. But he wouldn’t be shown up by a bleach blonde Brit in the middle of a trashy vinyl shop. “What are you doing on this side of the pond anyway, London?”

“I’m from Liverpool, mate,” said the man, after a brief pause indicating that Dean had committed some horrible transgression against his dignity. “Unless you want me to be from London.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Sam had made his way to Dean’s side. “I’m sorry about my brother, he’s—” Sam glanced to his side. “Passionate about coats.”

“A man must have some hobbies,” the Brit said generously, and turned back to the Manic Street Preachers.

“We need to solve this case soon, Sammy,” Dean said under his breath, turning away from the Britpop corner. “I don’t think I can tolerate much more vinyl shop customer action.”

“We barely know what’s going on. Let’s scout some info first. Hi!” He looked up at the record clerk and leaned politely on the counter. “Could my partner and I ask you a few questions about your shop here?”

The clerk, who looked like the sort of young man who thought chemistry was a ‘soft science,’ gave them a suspicious look. “Yeah…?"

“When was this store established?”

Blank stare. Blinking. A faint perplexed look. “Uh—”

“Jordon, what’s going on out there?” a voice called from the room behind the clerk. After a moment, a very elderly man hobbled out, squinting at the customers. “Well? What’s going on out here?”

“I was asking this— nice young man— about the history of the store?”

The old man’s face split into a wide grin. “Oh! Well, isn’t that nice of you?” A pause. “I said, isn’t that nice of him, Jordon?”

Jordon rolled his eyes. “So nice.”

The old man eagerly shook Sam’s hand. “Gordon Orgney. What can I answer for you?”

“Hold on,” Dean said, his finger swivelling between the clerk and the owner. “Your names are Gordon and Jordon?”

“He’s my uncle,” said Jordon the clerk miserably. This didn’t explain anything.

Sam cleared his throat with a look of slight annoyance. “I was wondering when the store was established?”

“1969!” said Gordon triumphantly. “I said to myself, Greenwich Village is going by the wayside, yes I did. That’s what I said to myself. I said, soon it’s going to be nothing but hipsters and artistes. Got to preserve something of the original, I said to myself. I said it.”

Sam nodded, while Jordon grew increasingly annoyed.

“Right,” Sam said. “And has there ever been anything strange going on in the building? Any crime? Disappearances?”

Gordon’s expression shifted instantly. “You tell your cop friends that I have nothing to do with all those bodies! It’s just a coincidence. I never even heard of them until the papers came out, and now everyone’s knocking down my door about it. It’s that damn Darnielle…” He trailed off and walked entirely away from the counter, back into his office, and locked the door.

“Well,” said Sam. “That was quite the answer.”

“Don’t mind him,” said Jordon. “He just hates John Darnielle. He thinks he caused all of the world’s problems with his combination Christian/Heretic music and the fact that everyone expects the store to carry his albums.”

“Who’s John Darnielle?”

Jordon’s eyes lit up. “You don’t know the Mountain Goats? Oh man, you’re gonna love this. Hold on, I think I have an extra tape.” He rustled around in the cash register drawer and pulled out a faded cassette tape labeled “Goat tunes.” “Got it! Here, do you have a tape player?”

The Impala had one, so Sam nodded, but Dean narrowed his eyes. “We’re not playing that in Baby.”

Sam elbowed him as he took the tape from Jordon. “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be a great mix.”

Jordon nodded and then leaned forward. “Between you and me, don’t worry about this place.” He shifted his eyes to somewhere behind them and back. “There’s nothing going on here.”

There was no more they could get with the Brit lurking irritatingly close. They left.

“Dude, have you heard this?” Sam yelled from the Impala in their hotel roof parking lot. Dean was sitting on the hood, attempting to look laid back, but he was sliding very slowly and it didn’t really have the same effect.

“I refuse to listen to this, Sammy.”

“It’s incredible. I mean, he’s the most brilliant lyricist in the 21st century. Have you heard his song cycle about failed love and divorce? It touches your soul.”

“I don’t relate to the concept of divorce,” said Dean. “I’m not a child of divorce.”

“But you could be a parent of divorce,” said Sam. “You never know.”

“What are you talking about, man? I’d never get divorced.” Dean looked offended. “Marriage is about, like, love and everything.”

“Next you’ll say it’s between a man and a woman.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not— are you sure you’re not gay?”

“I don’t have to be gay to support gay marriage, Dean.”

“That’s not what I even— dude, you’re the one that brought it up. I hate when you find weird music. I’m going to get a coke.”

Miasma closed at 9pm on Sundays. Dean thought this was wildly optimistic for how late people would still be coming to a record store that serviced maybe three niches of music listeners total, but it gave them the cloak of night to break in.

“There has to be an easier way to do this,” groused Dean, hanging halfway through a very small window. Below him, Sam let out an exhausted sigh.

“Do you need me to push your legs up?”

“No! No, I don’t.”

With a monumental amount of exertion, Dean managed to haul himself through the window and avoided breaking his neck on the way down. Sam followed with much less fanfare. The inside of the record store was not as dark as they had expected, and for a second both thought that the clerk had simply left the light on. “So, what do you figure we’re looking for, Sammy?”

That was when someone coughed with an incredible amount of sarcasm, and they discovered that the lights were in fact on because the pair of them were not the first trespassers of the night. “Come here often?” said the weird blond man from earlier that day.

“Um.” Dean exchanged looks with Sam. “This is private property.”

“Not yours, though, if I’m correct.” The man cast a look over the store. “Doesn’t seem like your scene. Well, maybe yours.” He gestured to Sam.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, my apologies. John Constantine. You’ve never heard of me, and if you’d like to continue living your lives at an average, not dead rate, it’ll stay that way.”

The Winchester brothers exchanged a look. It was a look that, to them, very clearly communicated the sentence: oh, this man doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. For Sam, this was an expression of earnest concern. For Dean, it was not. “Yeah? I will say, I’m not used to getting called average.”

Constantine quirked a smile. “Okay. What are you then? Or shall I find out later?”

“What?” Dean furrowed his brows at Constantine, then turned to Sam and continued to furrow them. “What does that mean?”

“All in good time. So tell me, why should I be so impressed with you two?”

“The several apocalypses we’ve saved you from, for one.”

Constantine looked bemused. “Right. Anything else? We’ve all been around the apocalypse block a few times, boys.”

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Sam offered. He shoved Dean to the side, who was beginning to fume. “Are you a hunter?”

“I don’t kill animals recreationally, no.”

Crossing his arms, Dean shot Constantine a look that indicated: I know you think you’re so funny, and I disagree. “Right. Well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that over here in the good old US of A, we’ve got a good hand on any… problems.”

“A good hand, eh?”

“Uh, so, I think we’ve all gotten a bit tense here,” Sam said, turning to look at the door as though someone would enter and defuse the situation. He did not in fact expect anyone to be there, and was thus very startled to find a young man who looked like an off-brand Beatle, but slightly more whimsical. He wore a ragged black coat and an expression like he was looking behind Sam to see if the bus was coming. Sam took a step back to avoid bumping into him. “Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

The young man’s eyes drifted over his face without entirely settling anywhere. “Don’t think twice, it’s alright.”

Dean gave an incredulous scoff. “What is this, your sidekick?”

Constantine cocked his head at the same time as the young man met Dean’s eyes and said, “It ain’t me, babe.”

He stiffened. “I don’t know who you’re calling babe, pal, but it better not be me.”

“No, I ain't lookin' to fight with you,” the man said, and opened his mouth to continue, but a voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Don’t listen to him… I am not a fan… I try to ignore him.”

The man who had suddenly appeared in between Constantine and Dean looked a bit like a sailor, or at least what someone who had only ever heard of them from the packaging of Gorton’s fish sticks might describe as a sailor. This effect was mitigated by the fact that he was wearing cargo shorts and no shoes. Dean cursed. “Ghost! Fuck!”

“Don’t speak too soon,” said the moody young man.

“Another Side…” the sailor said, as though it were a normal name, “...shut up...”

“Oh Christ,” said Constantine. “It’s Bob Dylan.”

“Who?” said Sam.

“I don’t need your organization,” said Another Side of Bob Dylan, scornfully and quotatiously.

The sailor sneered at him. “You can do better than that.”

“Right.” Before anyone could say anything else incomprehensible or dramatic, Constantine spread his hands out. The overhead light flickered in accordance with his narrative importance. “If we’re all quite finished being abysmally Woodstock, I think perhaps we ought to have a little chat about this situation.”

Another Side exchanged a patronizing look with the sailor, and then raised an eyebrow at Constantine. “Something is happening here, but you don’t know what it is.”

“Shut the fuck up!” yelled Dean, who hated artists on principle. “Shut up! We’re hunting some kind of murderous ghost, and somehow I doubt that Knockoff Jimi Hendrix or— whoever the fuck you are— would haul off and beat three people to death over the last couple months, yeah?”

“I’m David Crosby…” said the apparent ghost of David Crosby.

“Who?” said Sam again.

Constantine spun around like a cat on the prowl and stalked over to a box labelled ‘drugs,’ flipping through the records before pulling out one marked CROSBY, STILLS, NASH, AND YOUNG. He lifted it up suspiciously. “Are the rest of you in there, then?”

For a second no one responded. Then a very sad British voice said. “Croz doesn’t let us out. I haven’t seen the sun in twenty-five years… I just want to see daylight again.”

Constantine blinked. “I’m just, I’m not going to deal with that.” He put the record back and the voice faded away.

“Is there anyone here that we can talk to, like any normal human being we can speak with?” Dean asked, exasperated.

“Mm… Swift…” said Crosby, pointing to the box that read ‘linda please come back’.

Dean wandered over to it with the rising suspicion that nothing good was going to come of this affair and rifled through. The only record with the name Swift on it was Taylor Swift’s ‘Red.’

(Dean listened to Taylor Swift with a devotion approaching religion. He did not tell this to anyone.)

It took a second for the ghost to apparate. In that time, Sam said, “Hold on, Taylor Swift isn’t dead. Or wasn’t, last time I checked.”

Dean’s heart plummeted. “God. She must have been murdered since we last read the news. That’s— that’s fine, you know, I don’t listen to Taylor Swift at all. So it’s fine.”

This was an inopportune thing to say right as the ghost of Taylor Swift manifested in front of him. Fortunately for Dean, she had eyes only for Another Side of Bob Dylan, and the eyes were very angry ones. “You!” she hissed, one finger flying out to point at him with malice. “All that time in the storage cabinet in the back of the store together when the owner accidentally ordered multiple copies of us… and now you say you won’t talk to me? How can you be so casually cruel? Do I mean nothing to you?”

Another Side held up his hands forlornly and shrugged at her. “It’s all over now, Baby Blue.”

“I’m Red! And as for the rest of you, I won’t say anything if he’s there!” In a poof, she vanished.

“Okay,” Dean said. “Anyone else?”

“Visions of Johanna are now all that remain.” Another Side nodded as if this made perfect sense.

It took them a few minutes to track down what on earth he was talking about, because after that he got into a protracted argument with David Crosby about the best types of drugs to take right before a recording session. How he did this speaking only in lyrics was a mystery, but Crosby seemed to understand and, moreover, disagree vehemently. Finally Sam heaved a relieved sigh and lifted up an album cover. “Do you think this could be it?”

The front of the album was inked with the portrait of a woman in profile, the name “JOAN” stencilled beside her in an art nouveau font. Another Side hummed thoughtfully.

Johanna— Joan— appeared on the stool behind the register, picking absentmindedly on a guitar. She looked up, then scanned the three non-ghosts in the room. “Oh,” she said, looking a bit skeptical. “I don’t suppose you want to interview me about my own contributions to the folk rock genre?”

“Shit! That’s Joan Baez!” Constantine opened his mouth, closed it again, and pointed in awe. “When I spent a year hanging out with hippies, all of them wanted to marry her! Hello, Joan Baez! Do you want a cigarette?”

She gave him a once-over. “From you? No.”

“Oh.” Constantine looked down. He now appeared slightly self conscious and shoved the cigarette back in his coat pocket. “I’m sorry.”

“Anyway,” said Dean, who did not know who Joan Baez was and did not care, “ma’am, would you be inclined to explain why on earth a bunch of famous ghosts are all hanging out in this piece of shit shop?”

“I mean,” she said, exchanging glances with Crosby and Another Side. “We’re folk rock musicians. Where else would we hang out?”

A new voice popped up, light and wistful. “Greenwich Village…” said a just-manifested woman who looked like what would happen if you googled ‘folk singer stock image.’

“Good point, Judy,” Joan said. “There’s always Greenwich Village.”

“Enough about Greenwich Village!” snapped Sam, who had had enough of feeling like he wasn’t artistic enough to keep up with the conversation. He was generally the most hipster person in any given room, and the current situation was unbalancing to him. “Ms. Baez, this may come as a surprise to you, but strange things have been happening in this record shop and the fact that you— a ghost— are here is probably related. Can you tell us anything about that?”

Joan nodded. “Not really.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Well, actually, maybe I can. Can you get my guitar?”

“What?” asked Sam. “That’s not really— you have it?”

“No, I don’t.” The guitar that was previously in Joan’s hands was no longer there. “Are you trying to gaslight me?”

Sam wasn’t. Dean didn’t know what gaslighting was. Constantine didn’t care. “Alright, love,” he said, crossing his arms. “If we get your guitar for you, will you give us some answers about the dead bodies that have been cropping up around here?”

“Maybe so.”

Another Side coughed, breaking the spell of Joan’s intense stare. “My friend(s),” he said, effortlessly pronouncing the punctuation, “you’d better leave.”

Joan held up a peace sign and disappeared. The rest of the musicians followed suit in an instant, leaving Constantine and the Winchesters alone in the record shop.

“Well,” said Constantine. “Shall we?”

“What, all together? Do what?”

“Find Joan Baez’ guitar. Were you not listening?”

Dean scoffed. “I was a bit distracted by the sexy hipster chick! The one with the long hair, not the mysterious ghost.”

For a long second, both of them stared at him. “They were all ghosts, Dean,” said Sam.

“What? Oh, fuck, nevermind, then.”

The three of them placed any records back in their extremely specifically named boxes and made their way back out of the small window onto the street.

A long while after they had gone, a dozen or so hazy figures popped back into existence inside the shop, glancing at each other nervously.

“Not good…” said Crosby, his form flickering slightly from the strain of keeping Stills, Nash, and Young imprisoned in their case. “I think… this is bad…”

Joan Baez heaved out a sigh. “So what do we do?”

“God said to Abraham, kill me a son,” Another Side of Bob Dylan said, with a meaningful look at one particular record hanging on the wall. Its ghost was notably invisible, as he was feeling very embarrassed.

Judy Collins favoured him with a wry smile. “Like Judas of old,” she said. She was always the only one who humoured his determination to only speak in quotes. Everyone else thought it was annoying, which it was, and nonsensical, as he did not even stick to quotes from songs on his own album. “We lie and deceive.”

“Oh… shut up…” jeered David Crosby, and no one wanted to deal with him, so one by one they faded away.

The time was 11:34pm, and the patrons of The Lonely Rabbit Bar, Disco, and Armenian Delicatessen were suffering the presence of three very confused occult detectives. They had decided that drinks were in order after the perplexing interaction they had had, and also that since neither party was inclined to give up the chase, they might as well work together. Constantine flagged down a deli worker and leaned on the glass to chat.

“Augustus, the usual please. And a sample for the two of them.”

Augustus nodded and slipped to the back, beginning to clean the large and very sharp looking cheese and meat slicer behind the counter.

Dean stood uncomfortably in the area between the deli and the disco room, but not quite in bar territory. Sam was looking intently at the pickled goods in the display fridge. He had recently become quite the pickled goods enthusiast since being gifted a book on how to put things in jars and age them, and had a small pickling station running out one of the bunker’s many empty rooms.

“So are these salt-brined or vinegar-brined? Maybe fermented?” He asked another deli worker, who stared at him like a deer.

“I think we put them in things.” The deli worker walked away without waiting for a response. Sam looked vaguely embarrassed.

“They’re paid minimum wage, love,” Constantine advised. “Don’t expect enthusiasm. Anyhow, since I’m being so kind as to take you to the best bar, disco, and Armenian delicatessen for at least several blocks, I think you two should tell me just who you are.”

“I don’t know what a delicatessen is,” Dean said defensively. He pointed to the writing on his hat, which read ‘Women Want Me, Demons Fear Me.’

“I see,” said Constantine, who didn’t. “What do you know?”

“Women want me, demons fear me.” He pointed to the hat again.

“Sam,” Constantine said, turning away from Dean without comment. “What do you know?”

“Uh, I know how to handle situations like this,” Sam said, with an impressive amount of acumen. “I can assure you we can deal with a little haunting. I’m sure you have some experience, but—”

“—we have more,” Dean finished, with a smirk.

Augustus came back then, with two bags of Armenian string cheese. One of them — so massive it looked comical even next to Augustus’ 6 foot frame — he handed to Constantine. The other, a smaller but still impressively sized quantity, he handed to the Winchesters.

“This is a token of my— friendship is a strong word. My decision to bear with the two of you. Trust me, it’s taking a lot of self-restraint. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop patronizing me.”

Dean, who had never considered a non patronizing approach to anyone, stifled a scoff. “What do we get out of bearing with you?” he said.

Constantine pointed at the string cheese.

Sam shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen, Dean? He obviously knows his stuff.” He took a bite of the string cheese. “And this is remarkable.”

“Isn’t it? Anyway, drinks are on you two.”

Neither of them quite new how to object, so they didn’t. After a long, uncomfortable silence filled with vague Armenian disco music and the sound of chewing,

thats all we have so far. happy birthday.

love, rey and ev <3

enjoy

evelyn my dear friend evelyn. rey whos scheming mind i would know was behind this even without the signoff. i dont know what to say. the fact that this ends in the middle of a sentence. the fact that you decided the best place for the john constantine/supernatural/60s folk crossover fic was my medieval literature side blog. the presence of the orgneys. 10/10

#long post #what do i even —

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