to me, the funniest thing about “that’s rough buddy” isn’t the fact that sokka says something patently insane with zero context seemingly out of nowhere, or the fact that zuko clearly doesn’t know how to respond. it’s the completely incorrect use of the word “buddy.” zuko would obviously like to be friends with sokka, but sokka is not, in fact, his friend. this is the most time they’ve ever spent together, and it’s because zuko invited himself to tag along on sokka’s suicide mission. at this point in the episode, sokka still hates this guy, perhaps less than he did a week ago, but he still hates him enough that he didn’t bother forcing zuko to stay home, which means he still didn’t really care whether or not zuko lives or dies. which, considering that he had tried to kill zuko multiple times in the past, is not all that surprising. this entire episode is essentially just zuko forcing his friendship onto sokka while sokka is legitimately too depressed to care. so when zuko calls sokka “buddy,” there’s a spirit of dogged optimism characterizing that epithet, because in no possible realm would sokka consider zuko his buddy at this point in the episode. and that’s something we miss when noting the iconicness of this exchange, simply because, by the end of this episode, they are buddies, so in our minds looking back on these lines, the implication of friendship doesn’t feel out of place at all. and really, it isn’t out of place, but only because zuko’s tenacity and determination (in this instance, his determination to befriend sokka) has always hugely outweighed his ability to read the room.
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obsessed with how the last scene of this episode went. not finding the reaction he seeks, roman jumps into the river of protestors. he provokes them. he wants a fight and they’re not giving it to him. he shoulder-checks his way upstream. he slams into someone and they elbow him. he crashes to the pavement. he expects knuckles and boot soles to fall upon him, finally he’s crossed the line — he will feel his father’s violence again — none descend. he stays down a few moments longer than he needs to. a part of him hopes the crowd will just take the fucking hint. do me this favor, beat me, make me feel that awful ache only Dad can make me feel. resurrect him within my nervous system. let my body be a vessel for that familiar pain again. i’d do anything to feel that pain again. he doesn’t. feet step swiftly around him. a faceless hand finds his elbow, trying to help him stand. he lunges. he snarls. kindness is not a currency he trades for comfort. if you’re not reaching for me to hit me then get your fucking hands away.
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watched more succession today and guys greg is lowkey a snake in the grass omg. he seems like this benign guy, inexperienced and stumbling blindly through the corporate world, but he milks every situation he’s in and appears highly observant to me. by episode two he’s figured out that shiv is more savvy and authoritative than roman and by episode four he’s already turned on tom. and it’s interesting because tom actively antagonises greg to compensate for his own lack of power in the family/chain of command, projecting onto him and completely exploiting what little authority he has, which seems inconsequential because of how greg comes across. and yet greg subtly manipulates this to his advantage too… suddenly tom is revealing sensitive information to him which he only shares with his fiancée like… I don’t know how this is going to escalate but I hope this turns into a codependent power struggle with greg coming out on top and reversing the initial power imbalance between them, exposing how powerless and pathetic tom really is
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Looking back at the latest run of movies I've filmposted on, you might be tempted to think I'm only watching the good stuff these days. Let me dispel any thought that I've abandoned horrendous cinema as we tackle what I believe to be the reason George Lucas is the way he is: the Star Wars Holiday Special.
For the uninitiated (people who became Star Wars fans around the time the term "Reylo" was minted) let me set the stage. It's 1977, and the world has been changed by the arrival of Jedi to the silver screen. Lucas et al. can now afford more matte paintings than ever before, and are busy planning out the thrilling sequels to carry on the Star Wars saga ("Planning the Star Wars sequels" is a sentence that will not be uttered again in studio conference rooms until 2017, at which JJ Abrams will precede the sentence with the words "We will not be"). CBS approaches Lucas with a revolutionary concept: worldbuilding for the Star Wars universe by developing discrete self-contained stories through the medium of Television (the book of bobos, coming soon).
Lucas says yes, develops an allegedly solid script off his idea for an all-wookie movie, and then will not budge on his idea for a movie entirely focused on a species of alien that grunts with no subtitles. He's just put out one of the biggest movies to hit the screen ever, and furthermore is a man of great artistic vision. With Lucas at the helm this is set to be a hit.
Except Lucas needs to move studios to fit all the matte paintings he can now afford. So Lucas drops the story in the hands of the ever capable CBS and heads to the matte painting store, leaving them to find another director after the first guy quit after finishing the Jefferson Starship concert and "Bea Arthur sings at the Cantina" scenes.
Lucas' trust was, to be blunt, misplaced. CBS' finished cut was simply terrible (with the exception of a charming animated segment), and Lucas even offered to pay them to keep the abomination off air. They declined, but the Holiday Special was only aired once, at which point all copies were destroyed at Lucas' behest. At this point Lucas is at the top of his creative game and we haven't been subject to anything like Indiana Jones 4 yet, so you can imagine what a blow this is to the man who has yet to mastermind Jar Jar Binks.
Much like the preservation of HBO originals in the present day, the Holiday Special was only preserved and propagated through outright piracy, to the point that Holiday Special bootlegs became a known fandom trope. And so this week, for the second time in my life, I watched a rip of the Star Wars Holiday Special made somewhere around Baltimore on that fateful night in 1978, slotting in right before Wonder Woman. It was bad, yes, just not spectacularly so.
There is no question in my mind: The Star Wars Holiday Special killed George Lucas' directing career more so than the runaway success of the first movie.
In my writings on film, there runs a throughline (often utilizing Lucas as a prime example) that discourages sequels. I'll admit that this comes predominantly from my upbringing in a world of shared universes and IP sprawl, but it's a pretty agreed upon point that A) serialization only serves as a chance to tarnish an otherwise solid first film and B) new, discrete stories are more interesting. That said, sequels are not bad, and my analysis of Star Wars does not lay blame on the fact that we got to see what happened after the Yavin Award Ceremony.
You see, beyond being bad, The Holiday Special taught Lucas all the wrong things with its failure. Artistic control is paramount, yes, but what his experience with CBS taught Lucas was that in order to secure his legacy, he had to chain himself to the Carbonite slab that was Star Wars and micromanage it for the rest of his life to ensure the world he'd created would maintain the quality he intended for it.
Looking at the state of Star Wars in the years after Lucas cut the series loose, I don't think this was an incorrect statement, but a singular devotion to guiding his store-brand Flash Gordon empire is what led to a 22 year hiatus between directorial efforts. Even after this, as much as I personally find the prequels to be misunderstood, they lacked the same spark Lucas had, making me wonder what he could have put out in his most creatively charged years had he not lashed himself to the helm of a franchise that's abandoned most of the work he spent years tailoring to his vision in favor of Baby Yoda.
The Star Wars Holiday Special is truly what separates Lucas from Coppola. Without that harsh lesson in trusting Star Wars to someone else, Lucas might've focused on directing future projects of his own rather than managing those of people expanding his space wizard universe.
Or maybe if you'd swapped their places Coppola would have Don Corleone meet up with cheerful Gungan Jar Jar Binks.
Of course this is all conjecture. Lucas has put out some of his best work as a writer and story lead working on projects like Indiana Jones and Willow, but it's sad to see one of the most influential film workers in the world, whose work I truly admire, with only a half dozen directing credits despite having all the matte painting money he could ever desire to make passion project films. Coppola went broke, but at least 2/3rds of his filmography didn't get coopted to sell Disney streaming packages.
Then again if I'd just put out three revolutionary films in a row and then saw what CBS did with my high concept wookie script, maybe I wouldn't be seeing things so clearly.
We're about a dozen paragraphs too long for a filmpost on the Star Wars Holiday Special, so I'll wrap up now: I can't say I recommend it.
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