The Best Quality A Fictional Man Can Have Is Being Deeply, Pathetically, Wretchedly In Love With Someone,

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Just went to see the "remastered" Interstella 5555 at the theater.......... good god the blatant AI upscaling was egregious 😬 i don't think i've ever struggled so hard to enjoy something.

I'm very out of the loop so im curious to know who the hell's decision this was, and whatever happened to the original print? there has to be a better way. i refuse to believe there isn't. to call the product screened tonight a "remaster" or "restoration" is downright silly.

And how ironic is it, that an animated film about a band of artists being exploited at the hands of the evil entertainment industry, uses AI for its re-release?? HELLO????????

none of these words are in 4'33"

Carrie is such a good tragedy cause. It was already too late from the beginning. Even if the love was there. That teacher? She fucking loved that girl. The girl who had her bf take Carrie to prom? Sure she was a dick at first but she really did wanna help. Even the bf seemed to really enjoy himself.

But it doesn’t matter cause the problem is at home. Carries mother is insanely abusive and manipulative towards her, keeping her unaware, childish and afraid. The teachers and principals are aware of this, but as of the 70s and Carrie almost being an adult they didn’t do anything. And that’s the tragedy.

If someone stepped in before, took her away from her mother, had her live a normal life without the Christian guilt, this wouldn’t have happened.

It’s her mother, after all, who tells her they will all laugh at her.

Even when they weren’t. Save for a few, the laughing Carrie hears is a hallucination. Everyone seems quite awestruck and sad. They were happy for her for a moment. Everything was okay for a moment.

But it wasn’t enough. The love was there but it was too late. Carrie is long past her breaking point. The girl she wanted to be, was so desperate to be, has already had her light snuffed out by her mother. Carrie White the monster burned with her mother that night, but Carrie White the girl died on that stage.

phantom of the paradise more lik.e. bad

Happy 70th Suicidal Swan Sells His Soul To Satan Saturday Sunday

i wanted to do something nice to celebrate the 50th's 'Thursday today is Thursday' but life has been kinda crazy lately and this is as far as I got

It's interesting to me that so many take Winslow's interest in Phoenix to be romantic, because it's always seemed to me to be more based in what she can do for him -- or, more specifically, to be based in what she can do for his music. This, of course, plays into the film's exploration of the exploitative nature of the entertainment industry.

Even if Winslow were to feel some sort of physical attraction to her, which he never explicitly indicates, he states himself upon their first meeting that he would "never let his personal desires influence [his] aesthetic judgment." To him, Phoenix's ability to adequately perform his music is what matters.

[Further analysis under the Read More]

This is not to say, however, that Winslow is shielded from the film's searing exposure of the entertainment industry's tendency (specifically, in pertinence to male desire, be it sexual or otherwise) to exert ownership of the women operating within it. Philbin attempts to exert this ownership sexually, Swan attempts to exert this ownership literally, via the predatory contracts so often seen in the industry (though, of course, not quite to the degree seen in the film), and Winslow attempts to exert this ownership creatively.

He is using Phoenix too, albeit in a different way: everyone in the film wants something from her. Philbin, the audience, Swan, and Winslow. The only exception to this is Beef, who is immediately confronted by Winslow---which foists the attention back to Phoenix and which directly juxtaposes Beef against Phoenix (in that Beef's attempt to assume the role that 'rightfully' belongs to Phoenix will result in his death). The free will of both Beef and Phoenix is smothered and eradicated by the desires of the two primary opposing characters. It is interesting as well that Beef, who is equally used as a pawn by the traditionally-masculine Swan and Winslow, is queer-coded: which in the 70s would certainly have been meant to indicate that he was feminine. But, I digress...

Whilst not conventionally manipulating Phoenix, Winslow still forces his desires onto her. He wants to use her for his music: he knows she will be forced to sing if he kills Beef. He shows her what happens to those who do not "listen to [him]" when he takes her to the roof and reveals what he has done; he tells her that she is all he has, that she is the only one fit to perform his music, that she can be HIS voice now.

He does not want her to give into her desire to become famous, or to enact her own fantasies; he wants her simply to remain as she is, unknown, uncorrupted, 'pure,' -- a fit vessel for his music. He does not want her to pursue the path she wants to take, knowing that fame will transform her into an agent of the industry he so desperately despises and yet seeks to break into (on his terms, of course -- yet, Phoenix is not allowed this same choice).

He does not love her romantically; he loves that she can voice his music the way he wants it voiced. His music has always been his sole passion, and his sole obsession: his cantata is his soul, and Phoenix is his instrument. He cares for her the way a seasoned jazz musician cares for his saxophone.

His agony on the rooftop is not borne of jealousy of a romantic origin, but rather of his torment that Swan is yet again ruining his music: to claim Phoenix is to permanently divest Winslow of his voice. She is his last chance, and he does not intend to allow Swan to crush that.

This is not to claim that Winslow does not care for her as a person: of course he does. He would not attempt to save her from Swan's assassination plot once she has been 'corrupted' (in his view) otherwise. It is poignant that this act of selflessness not only results in his own destruction, but is ultimately meaningless: he may have saved Phoenix, but died amid a massive, televised Bacchanal that served only to exponentially augment Swan's fame. (An assassination live on television, coast to coast? Now that's entertainment!).

Just as the other characters in the film, be they major or minor, Winslow's designs for Phoenix exist to lampoon the entertainment industry, whose dulled teeth gnash ceaselessly as it devours those who leap into its insatiable, gaping maw.

Romantic love for Phoenix does not exist in this film for a reason: not from Swan, and not from Winslow...and that is the point.

oo-wee-oo i look just like doctor faustus

oh-oh and you're mephistophilis