Wonderful Restaurant

A tumblr. Everything does not suck.

[paperstorm]

Australian comedian Jim Jefferies points out the ridiculousness of American pro-gun arguments. x x

[redhead4eyes]

Welp

[featheredclaw]

WELP

[taraantino]

Cinematography Appreciation

The Big Lebowski (1998)

Director: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen.

Cinematography by: Roger Deakins

Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1

[taraantino]

Cinematography Appreciation

Sicario (2015)

Director: Denis Villeneuve

Cinematography by: Roger Deakins

Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1

[kierongillen]

Orlando

I wrote this to get the thoughts out my head this morning, and shared privately. I was encouraged to share publicly, so do so. I did have caveat that it should draw more of a line between the chasm of experience between being in the UK and being in the US, so I mention that as well.

It’s nearly noon. I’ve worked all morning. I was dancing in my kitchen to Erasure and tweeted about it. “Today is a day for dancing to Erasure in your kitchen.” I’m messaged by someone telling me it’s a day for mourning the dead. I check the news, and see the news. 20 dead. Horrified. I delete it and tweet a little little about the nightmare with them.

I’m late for a meeting, so leave the house, heading to a bar in Soho to spend the afternoon with a friend.

We’re three drinks in before I check my phone in the bathroom. News has updated. Not 20, 50. More details on the bar. More details on the shooter.

Before writing this, I see a friend succinctly describe what was my initial response: “Homophobia, islamophobia, domestic terrorism, mass murder and gun law all collide in one horrifying night. A greatest hits of American hate.” It’s a monstrous event that seems custom designed to hit the fractures in all the discourse, especially on the progressive left. In that first scan of responses, I see friends already going at each other for perceived lapses. I head back into the bar.

We were about to go home. After the news, I stay for another three drinks.

I retweet what looks like useful, practical tweets but nothing else. I do not trust the self that contains three drinks to say anything that will not cause harm. I reach out to friends. The conversation continues on lines you would expect after that. In retrospect, I’m surprised where it doesn’t go. I have to think why. I realise it’s because I’m too disturbed to completely verbalise what I’m thinking.

The bar’s in Soho. Could have happened here. The bar’s no more than 10m from GAY. Could have happened there. Think of any of my friends at any Pride event. There too. I think of all those times on a floor in a gay club or bar and dancing, and then imagine it interrupted by gunfire. I think of dancing in the kitchen to Erasure, in my head recalling those times when I was doing that in a gay club, before that reverie being punctured by reality in a tweet. I hate that to contextualise it, I immediately make it about me, the people I know, the people I love. I wish I was better at empathy. I wish we all were. If we were better at empathy, none of this would happen. If we were better at empathy, no hate would be able to make us treat humans as things to be disposed of.

I eventually go home. I’m still drunk. Eventually, C tells me to turn off the Internet and eventually I listen.

In the morning, I find myself thinking that nothing good will come of this. American gun laws didn’t move from the mass slaughter of children. Even putting aside homophobia – and how can we do that? – this won’t either.  The lines of privilege are going to be subtle to navigate for us to talk about it. The real pain is going to overwhelm anything. It will be used to support racism by opportunistic shitstains.

Nothing good will come of this, I think.

Yet simultaneously I think “but somehow it has to.”

I don’t know how, but I know part of it has to be to continue with as much humane understanding we can muster. When we’re as sad and angry as we are, I’m not sure how likely or even possible that is.

We have to be better as we can’t carry on being worse. “Love” is a small word, but it’s all we’ve got. I love you all and I wish this hadn’t happened and I hope we can work out a way out of this.

This doesn’t have to happen.

Relevant Resources

Here’s a useful post of LGBT resources and helplines.

Orlando-relevant places to donate to The Orlando Youth Alliance The Orlando Health Foundation The Center Pulse Victims Fund

Gun Control Guide to contacting your representative Everytown

[wonderfulrestaurant]

"American gun laws didn’t move from the mass slaughter of children. Even putting aside homophobia – and how can we do that? – this won’t either."

This whole piece sums it up for me. Insane that this can happen in a 'civilised' world.

[kierongillen]

Orlando

I wrote this to get the thoughts out my head this morning, and shared privately. I was encouraged to share publicly, so do so. I did have caveat that it should draw more of a line between the chasm of experience between being in the UK and being in the US, so I mention that as well.

It’s nearly noon. I’ve worked all morning. I was dancing in my kitchen to Erasure and tweeted about it. “Today is a day for dancing to Erasure in your kitchen.” I’m messaged by someone telling me it’s a day for mourning the dead. I check the news, and see the news. 20 dead. Horrified. I delete it and tweet a little little about the nightmare with them.

I’m late for a meeting, so leave the house, heading to a bar in Soho to spend the afternoon with a friend.

We’re three drinks in before I check my phone in the bathroom. News has updated. Not 20, 50. More details on the bar. More details on the shooter.

Before writing this, I see a friend succinctly describe what was my initial response: “Homophobia, islamophobia, domestic terrorism, mass murder and gun law all collide in one horrifying night. A greatest hits of American hate.” It’s a monstrous event that seems custom designed to hit the fractures in all the discourse, especially on the progressive left. In that first scan of responses, I see friends already going at each other for perceived lapses. I head back into the bar.

We were about to go home. After the news, I stay for another three drinks.

I retweet what looks like useful, practical tweets but nothing else. I do not trust the self that contains three drinks to say anything that will not cause harm. I reach out to friends. The conversation continues on lines you would expect after that. In retrospect, I’m surprised where it doesn’t go. I have to think why. I realise it’s because I’m too disturbed to completely verbalise what I’m thinking.

The bar’s in Soho. Could have happened here. The bar’s no more than 10m from GAY. Could have happened there. Think of any of my friends at any Pride event. There too. I think of all those times on a floor in a gay club or bar and dancing, and then imagine it interrupted by gunfire. I think of dancing in the kitchen to Erasure, in my head recalling those times when I was doing that in a gay club, before that reverie being punctured by reality in a tweet. I hate that to contextualise it, I immediately make it about me, the people I know, the people I love. I wish I was better at empathy. I wish we all were. If we were better at empathy, none of this would happen. If we were better at empathy, no hate would be able to make us treat humans as things to be disposed of.

I eventually go home. I’m still drunk. Eventually, C tells me to turn off the Internet and eventually I listen.

In the morning, I find myself thinking that nothing good will come of this. American gun laws didn’t move from the mass slaughter of children. Even putting aside homophobia – and how can we do that? – this won’t either.  The lines of privilege are going to be subtle to navigate for us to talk about it. The real pain is going to overwhelm anything. It will be used to support racism by opportunistic shitstains.

Nothing good will come of this, I think.

Yet simultaneously I think “but somehow it has to.”

I don’t know how, but I know part of it has to be to continue with as much humane understanding we can muster. When we’re as sad and angry as we are, I’m not sure how likely or even possible that is.

We have to be better as we can’t carry on being worse. “Love” is a small word, but it’s all we’ve got. I love you all and I wish this hadn’t happened and I hope we can work out a way out of this.

This doesn’t have to happen.

Relevant Resources

Here’s a useful post of LGBT resources and helplines.

Orlando-relevant places to donate to The Orlando Youth Alliance The Orlando Health Foundation The Center Pulse Victims Fund

Gun Control Guide to contacting your representative Everytown

[beatonna]

We’ll get back to Mary Anning later. 

Is Kelis’ milkshake song a gift to humanity, or what?

[archatlas]

[archatlas]

Christmas Lessons from Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson

[wonderfulrestaurant]

From nufc.com: "Gary Speed's passing was a massive shock, still bordering on the unbelievable. In short, someone who graced the black and white shirt and is sadly missed. RIP."

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Big fan of this one (at Stormbird Bar)

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Absolute scenes

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Such a blast. Can I work for Burger Records please?

[wonderfulrestaurant]

This month's haul. The Ant-Man Vice cover (bottom left) is so good #marvelcomics #imagecomics

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Preach it, Matt Fraction, preach.

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Picked up a beaut today

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Found this in my coat pocket this morning. No one had nicked anything though! Thank you, you kind-hearted soul 😊 #London #goodsamaritan

[wonderfulrestaurant]

See this film

[wonderfulrestaurant]

Twin Cinema

It is (past) that time of year where everyone does a list of things and so I present the 14 films I enjoyed the most at the multiplex this year.  Brought to you by Cineworld, I guess.

14. Chef (dir. Jon Favreau)

Jon Favreau examines father-son relationships while cooking up the best looking film food of all time.  Asks how far your would go for your art without arthouse existentialism (answer: far enough to fix up a gross old truck lent to you by a guy who may have slept with your ex-wife who you are still in love with).  Plus it has Bobby Canavale in it and I can't do an end of year list without him.

13. The Wind Rises (dir. Hayao Miyazaki)

Like Chef, the final film from anime genius Miyazaki (and Studio Ghibli?) attempts to peel back the layers behind a genius.  What's more interesting (and less explored because of it, perhaps) is what that genius means to other people in your orbit.  Something that was picked up in the reviews in better detail but at the expense of the meditation on love that is the undercurrent of the film.

Also, all the sound effects are vocal recordings, lending an Ivor the Engine feel.  Obviously.

12. The Lego Movie (dir. Phil Lord and Chris Miller)

Everything is awesome.  Especially if you're Chris Pratt, the lovable goof. 

Seriously, a film about Lego should never really have worked.  But it does on so many levels - great gags, amazing effects and it really makes you want to buy a new Lego set.  Which is the whole point, I suppose.

Plus it made summer blockbuster money.  In February.

11. Starred Up (dir. David Mackenzie)

Having never watched Skins, or any other media starring Jack O'Connell, I went in cold.  The guy blew me away.  The group session  (therapy is not the word) scenes are as tense as anything else in this.

The opening, as a young man is led to a new cell which he immediately fortifies, tells you off the bat - this will be brutal.  Also you can learn how to make a shiv from a toothbrush, DIYers.

10. Boyhood (dir. Richard Linklater)

Watch Ethan Hawke age over 12 years in Richard Linklater's 'epic' that is pretty much your teen years distilled onto screen in some form or another.

While the start (probably thanks to the use of Coldplay's Yellow) was a bit jarring), this is something quite unique.  Even if it is nearly 3 hours long.

09. Blue Ruin (dir. Jeremy Saulnier)

So. Tense.  Only way to review without spoilers is to say: man seeks revenge for wrong brought on him and then it all goes wrong.  Just watch it.  The wordless opening is stunning.  Macon Blair gives one of the performances of last (or any) year.

08. The Guest (dir. Adam Wingard)

"I'm a friend of the family."

Is he?  The soundtrack, jokes and violence should jar with each other, but they mesh into a woozy blend of bonkers.

07. 22 Jump Street (dir. Phil Lord and Chris Miller)

Something cool.

06. The Grand Budapest Hotel (dir. Wes Anderson)

If you like Wes Anderson, you know what to expect.  If you don't like Wes Anderson, you might be surprised, as Ralph Fiennes' acerbic M. Gustav H. and Lobby Boy, Zero ("you're a stone-waller") interrail around Eastern Europe with a stolen painting.  It's been said it has no plot but it's an old-fashioned caper with Anderson's familiar twist.  Also his best ever cast, no mean feat.

05. Inside Llewyn Davis (dir. Ethan Coen & Joel Coen)

Some missteps aside, this is the best Coens film since... oh, let's say The Man Who Wasn't There.

04. The Wolf of Wall Street (dir. Martin Scorcese)

The funniest film of 2014 (yes yes it came out in America in 2014, but I don't live there).  Stands up to repeat viewings and just as crazy.  Sucks you along for the ride until it all goes pear-shaped, leaving you revolted at Di Caprio and at yourself, for rooting for someone so brazenly despicable.

03. Guardians of the Galaxy (dir. James Gunn)

The best soundtrack, the best walking, talking tree, what doesn't Guardians have.  Pacier than Avengers Assemble, funny, great emotional beats, all from a comic that was always cult at best.  Honest Trailers called it Space Avengers but it's as much 'Disney's Star Wars'.  Which would work better if Disney didn't already own Marvel and, y'know, Star Wars.

02. Frank (dir. Lenny Abrahamson)

I was going to put a link to Frank's final scene but if you haven't seen it (why not?) it eliminates one of the film's leading questions.  (Ever so) loosely based on Jon Ronson's experience as the keyboard player in Frank Sidebottom's Oh Big Blimey Band, Frank is a paean to the outsider, the weirdo, the people with something to say and no idea how to say it and the people with something to say but no audience and, ultimately, wall.

01. Her (dir. Spike Jonze)

This might not be the 'best' film of last year, but lists are subjective and, well, sometimes something comes along at just the right moment in your life. Her is definitely something.

Joaquin Phoenix's sort of everyman bridges his mostly-familiar world with ours but in a fumbling, shambolic way, as he skirts around the edges of 'normal' life.

I wanted to write something grandiose to convey what this film meant to me, but its essence lies in that if you've ever been hurt, have hurt someone, or have just had things 'not quite work out', then Her will resonate with you on some scale.

And Chris Pratt is in it.