Creatively Undead Minds @fridayeveningfuneral - Tumblr Blog

Anyways, I like how in many recent horror films women’s pain / grief / suffering isn’t used as this gratuitous torture-p*rn aspect of mens’ stories, but a wild, almost feral source of terror for those that wrong them. We’ve stopped being the victimized on screen and started being the monsters and I think that’s really brave and sexy of us.

midsommars-deactivated20201109

“I really love the [Dani & Christian arguement] scene that we cut,” Ari said. “It’s some of my favorite dialogue in the whole film, and in some ways it was as big of a decision to cut that as it would have been to cut the dinner table scene in Hereditary between Toni and Alex. It was that big of a cut. It was a very, very big day when we lost that from the film. If you told me that I would have cut that scene before we went into production, I would have told you that you were crazy.”

luvallstuff

Talented actress: plays a role where they have to scream in pure grief and despair

Me:

ladyonfire28

Céline explains the complexity of filming the abortion scene

( @bereaving‘s GIFs are so good that i’ve given up on picking just a few of them. I just take all of them now lol)

“The abortion scene is the kind of scenes that are extremely difficult to film. We are at the end of the first week, we are on a set that we will only visit once, we are in a kind of museum. It’s not a dreamy decor. There are extras, there are characters who will only play once. Here is Christel Barras, the casting director and also excellent actress.

And above all there is a very big stake in this scene : there is a young child and the scene is built around him.

When we are about to shoot a scene like this we have a feeling of loneliness because we have no point of reference, we have very little representation, we are not dialoguing with the history of cinema. So there is little pleasure in being a pioneer. Pioneering is a way of giving medals to people who feel they are doing something for the first time.

But it’s not enough, it’s not enough to go through the scene, you have to dream it. There has to be an extra desire in it, you need something that belongs to the film. And what belongs to the film is this child.

Shooting with a child requires maximum comfort for the child and therefore minimum comfort for you. And it’s also trusting in a very long take. We do a series of takes, I sit right next to them, close to Luàna Bajrami. I talk to her all along. And it’s about telling her when does it start and when does it end, paying very close attention to the child and trusting her very much.

It was originally planned that the child put his hand on her chest, but obviously that’s a screenplay indication. He dried her tears.

It’s not miracles, it’s decisions.”

Click here to see more translated parts of the DVD commentary

loumovies

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) dir. Céline Sciamma

rodrickheffeley

i want what they have

rogerdeakinsdp

You kind of work the shot by what’s demanded by the story. The front of the shot is just Frank coming in the door and the exterior of the porch light that sort of rims him as he walks in. It was an aesthetic reason because it helps set the mood of the shot. We wanted this pool of warm light, sort of coming through this dark room and not knowing what you were going to expect. It was about capturing the surprise of Frank seeing that scene and that mixed emotion. And it wasn’t lit entirely by the candles. I asked the art department to make a cake that was big enough that I could hide a little gag light behind it.

— Roger Deakins, BSC, ASC

Vegetable Shopping

“Why are you still sitting? Let’s go!” my grandmother thunders as she enters the living room. Dressed in a simple salwar kurta, her mehendi-dyed hair tied up. I get up immediately, as if I’ve been caught red-handed when in fact I was merely waiting for her to get dressed. It’s a Sunday and my grandmother, or dadi as I call her, is eager to buy her weekly supply of vegetables. Twice a week — Sundays and Thursdays — a vegetable seller sets his shop up right below our building. It’s convenient for two reasons: firstly, that it’s closer and dadi doesn’t have to walk that much and secondly, it’s a few rupees cheaper. The latter being the most important.

We walk together in sync. It has been pouring unexpectedly for the past three days. The roads are damp, the lights already dim. I hold the umbrella over dadi’s head, more out of worry than respect. She has been coughing for the past couple of days. The change in weather seems to have gotten to her. I can’t help but feel like a mother attempting to protect her child from the unceasing brutality of nature. By the time we reach the vegetable stall, my right side is entirely drenched. I don’t think she can tell. Our couple minutes walk has been dominated by her looking downward and squinting. Worried, with every step, that she might fall and break a few bones. “Our bodies can’t heal the way they used to, you know,” she has told me on multiple occasions. By now, her old age has left visible marks on all our conversations.

As she walks around, sifting through baskets of okra and capsicum, inspecting the cauliflower, feeling the size of the potatoes, I hover around, holding the umbrella over her head with the basket in my other hand. She bends over, sniffs, passes comments on the size of some of the vegetables, tries to haggle before allowing me to go ahead and pay for it at the counter. I’d be lying if I say that her unnecessarily elaborate process of buying groceries does not frustrate me. But it also fascinates me. I grew up at the heart of urban India with two working parents for whom buying groceries is an essential chore done with a skilful indifference. Orders are always placed either over the phone or through online shopping carts. But for my dadi, vegetable shopping is so much more than that. In some ways, it’s a test of her agility as well. She inspects vegetables the way my mother and I inspect clothes in a shopping mall. It’s a seemingly emotional process, with all passion lost the minute the bill is paid. In the one month that she’s been here, I’ve been dragged to multiple vegetable markets nearby, in search of a good price. She now has a mental list of where she can get the best bargain for each vegetable. Her knowledge and skill set is painfully priceless, I think to myself as I struggle to keep the umbrella over her head with the heavy weight of the vegetable bag holding me down.

At home, dadi gives my grandfather a full detailed account of everything that transpired downstairs. In between her unstructured anecdotal narration, she makes references and comparisons to previous buys. Her memory surprises me.

#storytelling #india #grandmother #writer #vegetable Shopping

Kabir Singh sucks and even my grandmother agrees

I know the Kabir Singh debate is over and many of us supposedly-woke, millennial folk have consensually agreed that it's a terrible film but i just felt like i should reiterate it by taking the example of my grandmother.

My grandmother enjoys films that are typically full of drama and songs and whatnot. Basically 80s/90s. She also has some very problematic thoughts (duh), which is fine. Anyway, so i decided to show her Kabir Singh. Within the first ten minutes she had a lot of questions:

"he's a drunkard, how will he save lives?"

"how will he be a doctor if he's only in college to beat people up?"

"how is the girl okay with all this?"

"what is that language?"

I am so happy to see such an appropriate reaction but also mildly ashamed that my father did not see anything wrong with the film.

Anyway, rant over. Bye.

#kabirsingh #bollywood #shahid Kapoor #kiara advani #arjun reddy #hindi films

toastbutteregg

seven billion people on this planet and i have 2 friends

ME! in a picture:

My fav GIF. Ever.

hey guys can you help me find that old portrait of a girl holding a little painting of a naked dude and cracking up about it?? I want to say it’s by Rembrandt but that’s probably not right