I need to scream about Supernatural for a second. **Spoilers for last night’s episode if you haven’t seen it yet.**
OH MY GOD???? I NEED A SPIN-OFF OF JODY AND DONNA AND THE GIRLS HUNTING LIKE THREE YEARS AGO???? Claire is such a badass!!!!! I love her!!!!!! And I ship her with Kaia so hard!!!!! And I don’t know if that thing that came out of the rift was Kaia resurrected or a Mirrorverse Kaia or what but whatever, Dreamhunter is my new OTP!!!!!!!!
And Jody keeps adopting all these daughters! She and Donna being hunters moms together???? I’m here for that shit!!!
And I love Patience and Alex too! They all bring something to the team and I just don’t mean abilities. JUST SIX BADASS LADIES KICKING SUPERNATURAL ASS. SAVING PEOPLE, HUNTING THINGS. THE FAMILY BUSINESS!!!!!!!!
(I need Charlie and Eileen on this team too. If only they weren’t dead.) ~TRL
Woo, first post and first movie review of 2018! Let’s dive right into this.
The Greatest Showman deserves every award it’s nominated for and more. I haven’t felt this emotionally boosted and moved by a flick since…well, okay, Moana. (Lin-Manuel Miranda gets me every time.)
Movie musicals are often a hard sell, but with TGS and 2017’s La La Land, they may be on the rise. But I believe the former has shown us all–filmmakers, critics, and casual viewers alike–how to make a truly beloved musical film. Let me explain.
***Ahoy! Spoilers ahead!***
What is a musical? It’s happy. You’re supposed to leave the theater feeling happier than when you came in. Sure, there are the rule breakers like Les Mis, but the whole point of musical numbers are to evoke emotion, and when you have a diverse cast in colorful costumes inviting you to the circus, how can you expect to feel any way but joyful? The songs and plot are so much more fun than watching two people struggle for a career and whine and be in a miserable relationship with each other. It’s obvious how much fun Hugh Jackman is having in this movie, and his natural charisma and sweetness oozes out in ways he’s not normally allowed to show.
2. Good, Well Sung Music
TGS stars major musical talent: Hugh Jackman, Zendaya, Zac Efron, as well as Broadway power from Keala Settle. Nearly every song was memorable and is sure to make one want to sing along. LLL had two songs of note: the opening number, which had the most charisma of the whole movie because it was actually entertaining and didn’t involve the lukewarm romantic leads, and “City Of Stars” because its monotonous seven-note piano riff gets played over and over throughout the entire movie and gets stuck in your head for a week after watching it. Plus Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling are actors, not singers. Gosling sounds half asleep for most of the numbers he’s involved in and Emma Stone, apart from the audition song toward the end, sounds like she’s getting over a case of laryngitis. I know the point isn’t the singing, but for a movie with as high a production quality and as much Oscar buzz as it got, it was an immense letdown.
3. Engaging Romance
Efron and Zendaya immediately have 10x the chemistry that Stone and Gosling had. Maybe that’s just because their characters were so much more likable. Stone plays a bratty, self important, wannabe actress who is either good or bad at acting as the script demands it, and Gosling is an elitist hipster douche who shouts over jazz bands to mansplain what an amazing lost art jazz is. (Also, it’s really irritating watching a white person completely appropriate black culture all for his greedy little hipster self while John Legend, a really talented black musician, is barely a cameo in this movie and his opinions on jazz are chucked in the bin because he added synths and that’s just too mainstream for Mr. Jazz Jesus over here.)
Once all the dazzle of new Hollywood romance fades away, Mia and Sebastian do nothing but spend time apart to focus on their careers or bitch at each other for not being supportive enough because both of them are narcissistic assholes. Zendaya and Efron’s love story gets about 1/4 the amount of screen time that Stone and Gosling had, yet they manage to make you care about their relationship way more effectively. Maybe it’s because their main obstacle is period racism and not each other.
4. A Heavily Featured Ensemble
Even though this is a highly inaccurate because P.T. Barnum was a jerkass con man in real life biofic about the man who invented the circus, the other characters are significant in the movie, and not just props in the protagonist’s story. Efron’s character who is roughly based on James Anthony Bailey, Barnum’s family, and of course, the members of the circus, all get their fair due. My favorite character is probably Lettie, the bearded woman. She could have easily been made into a cheap joke about women with masculine features, but she is arguably the character with the strongest spirit, develops from an insecure washerwoman to a proud performer and shows leadership skills with the rest of the troupe, and leads the most acclaimed number in the whole film, “This Is Me”. La La Land makes the mistake of focusing solely on Mia and Sebastian, who I’ve already defined as uninteresting and unlikable.
La La Land has none of the charm that Greatest Showman has in spades. Also it is incredibly shallow. Now, a good movie doesn’t necessarily have to send some profound message about society or morality, but without charm or wit, it can feel about as vapid as an episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. Greatest Showman touches on serious subjects like racism and classism without ever crossing over into heavy handed self-importance. La La Land‘s message is more or less, “I deserve to have all my dreams come true because I’m in Los Angeles and I’m giving the absolute minimal effort to be successful and I’m young and attractive.” Greatest Showman‘s message is simple, and a little cliché, but true: “Don’t be a sell out.”
Man, I didn’t realize how much I hated La La Land until I wrote this review.
Anyway, it may be way too early to say, but I think The Greatest Showman is going to end up being my favorite film of 2018. Like I said, it deserves every award. ~TRL
Roy Moore. Bill Cosby. Harvey Weinstein. Kevin Spacey. Charlie Rose. There’s a new one everyday. There have been so many accusations of sexual assault in the media that it’s no longer shocking, which is a sad reflection on our society. And when celebrities are called out for their misconduct, very rarely are they made to answer. Everyone jumps to their defense, claiming that these women are just making up the story, attacking poor innocent men who never did anything wrong, that they’re just attention whores or they have a liberal feminazi agenda (even though bad behavior clearly falls on both ends of the political spectrum).
It follows a simple pattern. In 2016, as Donald Trump was running for President, oven ten women came forward and reported that he had sexually assaulted or harassed them at some point. But Trump denied his misconduct at every turn, claiming, that all the allegations against him were a plot to undermine his Presidential campaign. Access Hollywood even released a tape revealing shocking and disgusting commentary made by Trump, casually claiming that he habitually grabs women by their genitals without their consent (no, Mister Trump, we do not let you do anything just because you’re famous). But despite all the evidence against him, he was never charged, and now he’s President.
With Trump on America’s throne, it’s become quite obvious to the American people that sexual predators, if they are rich, powerful, and predominantly white, can not only get away with rape and harassment, but be lauded by the public and have successful careers in business and politics. He’s the motherfucking President of the United States! And he’s been accused by tons of women of sexually assault or harassment. And it seems like roughly half of America just doesn’t give a fuck.
So of course the predators are coming out of the woodwork. They’re obviously not outing themselves, but rich and powerful men don’t have to be ashamed of themselves or apologize for committing sex crimes anymore, because in this country, you can literally be a known “alleged” rapist, and be elected Head of State. What kind of precedent that must set for these disgusting people.
As Matthew Norman once said, “Power means never having to say you’re sorry.” It seems like he was right.
I am a queer person, and I use the term queer to describe non-heterosexual/non-cisgender people. If you don’t like that term, you may not want to read this article.
There’s a nasty stigma around slash fiction that all the enjoyers and creators of it are crazy fangirls that fetishize same-sex relationships between men. But in my experience, that’s only a very tiny minority. Most slash writers are women, yes, and queer women at that. Here is a forum that talks a bit about the phenomenon of transformative fiction, and why generally women and other minorities are drawn to it more than to straight, cisgender, white men. Basically, minorities enjoy expanding past, or even straight up changing, canon because they crave representation, and material they are able to relate to.
But I’m not here to get into a big conversation about demographics and socio-political zeitgeists. I want to talk about why I like gay fanfiction.
To clarify, when I say “gay”, I don’t mean just mean gay male fanfiction. I have almost as many female/female ships as I do male/male. It’s sad that, as many queer women are involved with fan fic, that the amount of femslash pales drastically in comparison to dudeslash and het fic. (More on that at this link.)
First of all, fan fiction is not exclusively smut. Sex scenes do take up a good portion of the medium, but in most cases, smut accompanies real plot lines, usually a buildup of romantic tension between characters. Most fan fiction sets up the scenario where the characters in question finally admit their feelings for each other…which is usually then followed by sex as a form of catharsis for all the romantic and sexual tension that’s built up over time. The sex is usually a celebration of the getting together, not just porn for the sake of porn.
Second of all, I mentioned above that most slash fan fiction is about two (usually white) cisgender males, written by female-aligned persons. My friend Gemma made a YouTube video about that phenomenon, which you can watch here. It’s easy to pass off male/male fan fiction as young straight women using it as masturbatory material, but, I also stated that most slash fiction writers are queer themselves. So why would gay (I’m using that as an umbrella term here) women spend their time writing about the relations between two men? Sexually, aesthetically, and emotionally, what do homosexual relationships between men have to do with us?
Right now, on Fanfiction.net, the dominating fandom in TV is Supernatural, with over 120,000 fan fictions written for it. On Archive of Our Own, the number of fan fictions is over 170,000. Of those AO3 fan fictions, the top three most commonly written about pairings are all gay relationships between two white men, one of which is incestuous. Dean Winchester/Castiel (Destiel) takes up almost 40%, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester takes up 14%, and Sam Winchester/Gabriel takes up 6%.
The loathsome BBC Sherlock series has 102,021 fan fics (as of this writing) on AO3, and over 50% of them are Johnlock. Again, two white guys. This leaves the next dominant pairing of the fandom, Sherlock/Molly, in the dust with only 6855 (currently) fics to its name.
And the pattern continues. Marvel Cinematic Universe? Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, Steve/Tony Stark, and Clint Barton/Phil Coulson. BBC Merlin? Merlin/Arthur. The entire pantheon of Star Trek? Kirk/Spock. All of Star Wars? Kylo Ren/Hux. ALL WHITE GUYS.
But, maybe with the exception of Kylux, pretty much all of the fandoms I just named all feature white men as their main characters. They are the most developed and central to the story. And usually, their connection to each other is the most meaningful, even though both parties may have female love interests in their life:
Except for his brother, Dean Winchester’s most important connection is to Castiel. The angel even says himself that he and Dean have a “profound bond”. Even though Dean’s supposed “love of his life” is a woman named Lisa, who is promptly shunted to the side whenever the plot shows up and eventually put on a bus, never to return to the show.
Bucky Barnes is Steve’s best friend for life, and when forced to choose between Bucky and his loyalty to the Avengers (not to mention his own personal freedom and safety), Steve picks Bucky without a moment’s hesitation. Even though Steve is maybe? dating Peggy Carter’s niece?
And everyone, even non-slashers, sings praises to the deep friendship of Kirk and Spock, the slash pairing that more or less started it all. Even Gene Roddenberry himself wrote into the novelization of Star Trek: The Motion Picture that their connection “had been the touching of two minds which the old poets of Spock’s home planet had proclaimed as superior even to the wild physical love which affected Vulcans every seventh year during pon farr” and called them soulmates. Even though Kirk is the essential “ladies’ man” and Spock is “supposed” to have no feelings.
Even a fandom like Buffy The Vampire Slayer, which is dominated by strong female characters, a good amount of which are lesbians/queer, the second most popular relationship tag on AO3 is a non-canon m/m pairing (two white dudes, of course; ones who have little to no significant interaction, I may add). The first and third are het couples, and the very prominent lesbian pairing that is canon comes fourth.
However, there are exceptions to every rule. The Once Upon A Time fandom (I wrote a bit about feminism, or lack thereof, in the show in this post), despite the fervor of the Emma Swan/Captain Hook shippers, currently has more Emma/Regina Mills fics on AO3 than any other pairing. A f/f pairing! And one of them is sort of a WOC! (Lana Parrilla is Latina, but her character isn’t necessarily. I mean, Mills is a pretty white last name.)
But this is not about me trying to convince you to ship what I ship, or even have a deep in-depth conversation about the nuances of fandoms in cases of race, gender, or sexuality. I’m just trying to explain why I like slash.
Kirk and Spock. Dean and Cas. Steve and Bucky. Holmes and Watson. These are indelible bonds that endure the test of time. Kirk loved Spock so much, he threw away his entire career just for the chance to bring him back from the dead. And to quote the greatest movie of all time: death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.
When I ship characters together, it’s not because of how attractive they are or if I think they’d have hot sex scenes together. I see this connection between them, this kindredness in their souls that scream that they are at their strongest together, and that they make each other feel whole and content. And I’m sorry to say, but I usually see that in pop culture between the main man and his “bro” rather than between the two heterosexual love interests. Very seldom do I see the protagonist and their opposite sex partner share that intense yet tender bond (there are the exceptions: Buffy and Angel, Smallville‘s Clark and Lois). Maybe that’s because screenwriters don’t know how to write meaningful romance. Or maybe actors have trouble portraying that deep need. Whatever the cause, for the most part, slash just seems to work better. So until Hollywood dramatically improves its m/f relationships, I’m gonna keep on shipping the gay. ~TRL
Hey Raspberries, just thought I’d share my Halloween costumes from this year with you. And I’m throwing in last year’s too because I think I forgot to.
2017a: Wonder Woman
(I normally like to make my own costume, but this year I didn’t really have the time, energy, or funds, so I just bought this one online and made alterations to it. I took the skirt way up, because originally it was below my knee.)
This one was for a Halloween social thrown by a student org. My friend and I went together. She dressed up as Castiel (she went all out with the genderbent makeup, I didn’t because I’m lazy trash).
(Destiel is our OTP lol.)
I actually did make the dress for this costume. It’s painfully obvious that this was the first full garment I’d ever made. The wig was a 70s style wig with bangs that I cut straight across to resemble Spock’s infamous hairstyle. Here’s a link to the makeup tutorial for that costume, where I shaved off half my eyebrows.
I love Halloween; it’s the best holiday ever. ~TRL
I’ve been a member of the LGBT community for a few years, and I’ve had friends scattered all over the gender identity and sexual orientation spectrums. I don’t claim to know everything about the nuances of sex, gender identity, and romantic/sexual orientation, but I would consider myself an accepting individual, and am always open to learning more about people and their identities. So when I first encountered the idea of gender fluidity and non-binary identity, I was intrigued.
When I was born, I was declared female and I was pretty much raised that way. That’s not to say I was a girly-girl: I loved playing in the mud, I disliked jewelry and the color pink, Legos were my favorite toys, and I opted to play on the boys’ team when participating in girls vs. boys games on the playground. But I wasn’t a tomboy either; I loved playing Barbies and dress up (even though usually I was a firefighter or a railroad engineer), and I didn’t really have an interest in sports (although that was mainly because I was never good at them, not because they were “for boys”). I guess you could say that my gender expression as a young child was fairly gender neutral.
I do remember one instance when I was six where I was insisting to my mother that I was a boy, because at that time I thought of myself as a tomboy because I wasn’t super ultra-feminine like the other girls at school. Finally, my mother convinced me that I was a girl because I peed sitting down rather than standing up. But my notion that I was a boy never stemmed from a desire to actually be a boy, but rather that I should be because of the gender roles society enforces on us at youth. Never in my life have I suffered from “penis envy”. I’m glad I was born female, and I doubt I’ll ever change that.
That being said, now that I’m older, and have learned from my friends and my online community that there’s more than two genders, if I was asked, I would say that I don’t really feel like I have a gender—that I’m agender, if you will. Sheltered from such ideas until up into my late teens, it never occurred to me that I could be anything other than what my parents, my doctors, and society had classified me as. I still wear feminine clothing, but that’s because I find women’s clothing appealing. I dress for me, not my gender identity. I go by feminine pronouns (she/her) out of convenience, not because those pronouns particularly feel right or wrong.
But I always come back to that one moment when I was six and my mom convinced me that I was a girl.
I think it’s important to listen to children, because despite popular opinion, they aren’t stupid. No one knows us better than ourselves, and childhood is one of the most important developmental stages in our life, second only perhaps to adolescence. If our teenage years are the time that we come into our own identity and realize who we are, then childhood is the time that we collect the building blocks—morality, opinions, personality—that will someday form into ourselves. When my parents made me believe I was a girl, that had an indelible effect on who I am as a person, and I’m not unhappy the way I am. But I’ve often wondered: what if I’d been allowed to continue believing I was supposed to be a boy? Would I still be the person I am today, or would I be someone completely different? Would I dress the same, act the same, have the same beliefs? Our actions can shape people in ways we can’t imagine, and our parents arguably have the largest effect on us all.
I decided a long time ago not to have children of my own, but someday I might adopt kids. If I ever do, I know what kind of parent I want to be: a loving, understanding one. One who her children can confide in about anything. One who really listens to them. One who her children aren’t afraid of, but who rightfully earns their respect, and respects them in return. One who will sit on the front row at their wedding and cheer them on, no matter who they’re marrying, or whether they’re wearing a tuxedo or a wedding dress. ~TRL
Pretty much every American high school graduate has read The Great Gatsby…or least seen the film adaptation starring Leo DiCaprio. It’s a really short novel, only nine chapters, and it’s one of my favorite books ever. Mainly because…it’s really gay.
Damn, Catie, at it again with the seeing gay subtext everywhere. How could a novel written in 1925 focusing on a heterosexual romance possibly be gay, you ask me as you roll your eyes in disdain. Well, my close-minded friend, as a queer writer who has aced nearly every English class she’s ever taken, let me educate you.
I’m not claiming that any of this is solid proof that F. Scott was less than heterosexual, but he did have at least one queer friend, and queer people do tend to flock together. Plus F. Scott was notably prim in his appearance and femininely beautiful, and was admittedly the “woman” in his marriage to Zelda Fitzgerald–not that straight men can’t also dress impeccably and have soft features and be submissive to their female partners. But you know, if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, and hangs out with other ducks…there’s a good chance it’s a duck.
Also, it’s worth mentioning that Truman Capote wanted to adapt the novel into a movie—in Capote’s version, Nick Carraway, the main character, was supposed to be homosexual and Jordan Baker was a lesbian. For some reason, his screenplay was canned.
But now, onto the book itself. First of all, I propose that Nick Carraway, even though he did have a girlfriend briefly, is gay and infatuated with Gatsby. On the very second page of the book, Carraway describes Gatsby as gorgeous (although he’s actually applying that to his spirit rather than his actual physical appearance, but it still counts in my book). Then at the end of the second chapter of the book, a photographer named Mr. McKee invites a somewhat drunk Carraway out for lunch sometime and takes him back to his apartment to look at some photos he’d taken. And for some reason, it’s in McKee’s bedroom, while McKee is sitting in bed in his underwear.
“…I was standing beside his bed and he was sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands.”
I’m not saying they hooked up…but they hooked up.
When Carraway finally meets Gatsby face to face, Gatsby invites him out for a ride in his hydroplane. Jordan Baker then asks Carraway if he’s “having a gay time now”. That is actually the words she uses. And Nick replies, “Much better.” I know she means gay as in “fun”, but it’s still sniggle-worthy.
Then, when Carraway finally realizes that he’s actually talking to Gatsby, this is how he chooses to describe him:
“He smiled understandingly–much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced–or seemed to face–the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.”
TL;DR, Gatsby’s smile makes Carraway feel like the only girl in the world.
After that, Carraway immediately starts grilling Jordan for details about Gatsby, like a twitterpated teenager trying to get the lowdown on their crush. It’s adorable.
When the party is winding down for the evening, Gatsby and Carraway say goodbye to each other like, six times. No, you hang up. No, you hang up! No, you! You!
In the following weeks, Gatsby takes Carraway out on dates outings and seems really eager for Carraway to like him. “Look here, old sport,” he asks him one day, “what’s your opinion of me, anyway?” Then he shows off his medals of honor he earned in the army. What sucks is that in truth, Gatsby is really trying to get in Carraway’s good graces because he’s trying to use him as an in with Daisy Buchanan, Carraway’s cousin and Gatsby’s old flame. But if you think about it, does Gatsby really need Carraway to win Daisy back? He’s already conspiring with Jordan, who is Daisy’s bestie. He doesn’t really need Carraway to have an excuse to see her again. I think he just really likes hanging out with Nick, to be totally honest.
Also, a funny thing happens later on: Gatsby invites Carraway out for lunch and Carraway meets Gatsby’s business associate, Meyer Wolfsheim. Gatsby leaves momentarily and Wolfsheim says to Carraway that when he first met Gatsby, he “said to [himself]: ‘There’s the kind of man you’d like to take home and introduce to your mother and your sister.'”
Are you trying to set them up together or something, Wolfie?
One day, while Nick is wandering around Gatsby’s mansion, he spots of a photo of a man who Gatsby says is Dan Cody, an older man who was once his “best friend”. Later on, it’s revealed that Dan Cody met Gatsby and was impressed by him, so he took him under his wing and brought along on a sailing expedition, grooming him in the ways of the upper class and buying him a fancy wardrobe. He even left Gatsby twenty five grand when he died (although Cody’s mistress ended up usurping it from him).
That’s right–Jay Gatsby had a sugar daddy.
Anyway, blah blah blah, stuff happens, kiss kiss, bang bang. Then comes the last time Carraway sees Gatsby alive. He’s reluctant to leave him alone because Gatsby’s heartbroken about Daisy, but he has to go to work. But before he leaves, Carraway calls to him, “They’re a rotten crowd–you’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.”
See, because that’s the thing about Carraway: he idealizes Gatsby in the same way that Gatsby idealizes Daisy. Gatsby disowned his parents because he was ashamed of them because they were poor, ran an illegal alcohol business, and tried to seduce a married woman–and he was willing to manipulate Nick to do it. But Carraway never cared about any of that. Until the very bitter end, Carraway still believed in Gatsby and adored him. And when Gatsby was killed, Nick was the only one who stayed with him. He tried to salvage Gatsby’s reputation because he knew that Gatsby was not a killer and that he never slept with Myrtle Wilson. He tried to arrange a funeral for him when no one else would. He was the only one who cared. “Me and Gatsby, against them all.”