Stacey Nelkin on set of the Paramount Pictures movie "Serial" in 1980. (Photo by Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images)
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle

roma★
KIROKAZE

if i look back, i am lost

titsay
Sweet Seals For You, Always

JBB: An Artblog!

Janaina Medeiros
d e v o n
AnasAbdin
taylor price
will byers stan first human second
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

pixel skylines
dirt enthusiast

No title available
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Andulka

Love Begins

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from India
@passions-like-mine
Stacey Nelkin on set of the Paramount Pictures movie "Serial" in 1980. (Photo by Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images)
Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982)
Dreams of a better life. One in the distance.
Agnetha Fältskog of ABBA, getting domestic in the 1970s
How on earth do people get all their creativity out?
Emily Brontë - Wuthering Heights
gonna go stare into space while scrolling my phone and have ten thousand different overlapping voices and thoughts in my head about it
Saint Paul's Cathedral still looking blackened and surrounded by burnt out buildings in 1956. The caravans belong to building workers striving to repair a bomb ravaged London, over 10 years after the war.
lucy punch as amanda in ‘motherland’ - episode one
oooh have you ever done a post about the ridiculous mandatory twist endings in old sci-fi and horror comics? Like when the guy at the end would be like "I saved the Earth from Martians because I am in fact a Vensuvian who has sworn to protect our sister planet!" with no build up whatsoever.
Yeah, that is a good question - why do some scifi twist endings fail?
As a teenager obsessed with Rod Serling and the Twilight Zone, I bought every single one of Rod Serling’s guides to writing. I wanted to know what he knew.
The reason that Rod Serling’s twist endings work is because they “answer the question” that the story raised in the first place. They are connected to the very clear reason to even tell the story at all. Rod’s story structures were all about starting off with a question, the way he did in his script for Planet of the Apes (yes, Rod Serling wrote the script for Planet of the Apes, which makes sense, since it feels like a Twilight Zone episode): “is mankind inherently violent and self-destructive?” The plot of Planet of the Apes argues the point back and forth, and finally, we get an answer to the question: the Planet of the Apes was earth, after we destroyed ourselves. The reason the ending has “oomph” is because it answers the question that the story asked.
My friend and fellow Rod Serling fan Brian McDonald wrote an article about this where he explains everything beautifully. Check it out. His articles are all worth reading and he’s one of the most intelligent guys I’ve run into if you want to know how to be a better writer.
According to Rod Serling, every story has three parts: proposal, argument, and conclusion. Proposal is where you express the idea the story will go over, like, “are humans violent and self destructive?” Argument is where the characters go back and forth on this, and conclusion is where you answer the question the story raised in a definitive and clear fashion.
The reason that a lot of twist endings like those of M. Night Shyamalan’s and a lot of the 1950s horror comics fail is that they’re just a thing that happens instead of being connected to the theme of the story.
One of the most effective and memorable “final panels” in old scifi comics is EC Comics’ “Judgment Day,” where an astronaut from an enlightened earth visits a backward planet divided between orange and blue robots, where one group has more rights than the other. The point of the story is “is prejudice permanent, and will things ever get better?” And in the final panel, the astronaut from earth takes his helmet off and reveals he is a black man, answering the question the story raised.
“But don’t forget who you really are. And I’m not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you’re alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you.”
— Louis Sachar
Marilyn Monroe (by Sam Shaw 1956)