The way pop culture suggests an aversion to Courtney Love’s drug-addled mythology while espousing Cobain’s martyrdom, the way some communities shit on Lana Del Rey’s “aesthetic sadness” while simultaneously espousing emo bands fronted by men– it’s not to say that any of these genres, digressions, or affinities necessarily deserve respect, but there is a schism and a definite, unfair gender binary that favors troubled men over troubled women–and their right to be troubled. Men who grapple with issues that coincide with art and fame are canonized in death; women who do the same are made lesser, somehow, by their own unequivocal loss.
This might be true, yes. But that’s the point of the story tbh. We can all be selfish and seriously, if you have not yet felt so angry and sad to the point of badly wanting to get back to the people who hurt you and put you through so many horrible and emotionally and mentally destructive things, then wow. But hey i’m not saying you should do it. get revenge?Kill yourself?
I think most people miss another one of the points the story’s trying to make, or reach people with. This is not just about showing how your words and little actions can affect to some people to the point of killing themselves. This is also about people like hannah. Her “revenge” did worse things to the people on the tapes, guilt, fear, regret and soooo much more, and if that’s what her goal was then she succeeded, but that’s not all, her parents were hurting, not knowing why, or where did they go wrong? Now, is this what she wants? Maybe not. The show ended with implying that alex committed suicide, and maybe justin too, and tyler planning something not nice at all, probably school shooting, idk? Is this what she wants? Maybe not too. The show is trying to help suicidal people not only by stopping other people from doing horrible things to a person but also showing those who still has suicide thoughts how they would change everything in a bad way. That they matter and if one person didn’t care, that does not mean there won’t be anyone who’ll ccare. im sure their parents would be soooooo sooo glad if they just sit down and tell them everything. It’s hard but it will be worth it. And right now there are helplines, if telling their parents is out of question because of personal issues and things i dont really know, then helplines would help.
Hannah had been selfish, and so are we. Hannah made bad decisions and so do we. Hannah wanted revenge, and sometimes we want that to.
Maybe for you hannah’s reason is not enough to put her parents thru that much but for hannah its all already too much to handle to the point of not caring about anyone at all. She said it. She doesn’t care about everything aanymore.
Maybe 1 mile run is bearable for you but for some people half a mile is already too much.
For my Tumblr and Wattpad followers, this is not fan fiction. For anyone else who sees this and wonders what the heck it is and why they should read it, let me explain. This is a history, a testimonial if you will, about me and my relationship with music.
Like with all relationships, there is a give and take. And I’ve taken a lot, believe me. My record collection could attest to that, even at an early age. I would have friends come over to my house with dropped jaws. “Oh my God, how many CDs do you have?” Remember when mp3s were the newest, biggest thing and file sharing sites like Napster and WINMX still existed? I got tons of free downloads from that, and eventually between my ex-husband and me, we collected over 250,000 songs which I now keep on an external hard drive. But before the Lars Ulrichs come after me for illegal consumption, let me counter that with the fact that I have been buying music, concert tickets, merchandise and anything else I could get my hands on remotely related to my favorite bands for over thirty years, so I think we’re good. Over time, I like to think it has balanced out.
And it’s not just the fundamentals of artists giving me music and my taking it. It’s much more complex than that. From the first time I heard one of my favorite songs, from the first note, the first line, I had a relationship with it. It became part of me, like a piece of a puzzle or a document stored in my human filing cabinet. I pulled it out whenever I needed a smile, or when I was jazzed about something and wanted to jump up and down, or whenever I was angry and needed to let out my aggressions, or just when I needed a good cry. Music has been my best friend, my boyfriend, my confidant and my spiritual leader for as long as I can remember. I eat, sleep and breathe it. I’m obsessed with it. It’s in my blood, in my veins. And I’ve never not wanted to be that way.
I’m sorry it took me so long to reply. It’s difficult for me to curate a list during week days, but if you have any book related questions, my twitter is @sueyahollywood. I reply faster and I can link you easier.
Speak his name
How Shakespeare lured home Aussie Hollywood star Jai Courtney
Jai Courtney has been a gladiator, an Anzac officer, a member of a World War II bomber crew. He has played a resistance fighter in the Terminator franchise; he has attacked Tom Cruise, gone on a rampage in Russia with Bruce Willis and been drafted into DC Comics’ Suicide Squad. Yet he has never been keen to be tagged simply as an Aussie action star.
He also has been looking for work that explores a different kind of conflict. He has it now, in the most challenging terms: he is playing the title role in Macbeth, a Melbourne Theatre Company production directed by Simon Phillips that opens next month.
He has wanted this kind of experience for a while, Courtney says. He has been “scared as hell about what it was going to demand of me, but also just hungry for that chance to commit myself to something like this”.
For MTC, a Hollywood name is undoubtedly a box-office draw. For Phillips, there’s the appeal of an actor who can so readily embody a warrior, the Macbeth we see at the beginning of the play. For this production, Phillips says, “I was after someone who could really be it. Someone who could capture vividly the sense of beginning as that incredibly empowered person who’s given that temptation of being king when he’s flushed with success. He’s been as viscerally successful and triumphant as you can imagine.”
He was, of course, keen to be sure Courtney could tackle the text itself. MTC voice coach Leith McPherson turns out to have been the last person to have directed Courtney in a Shakespeare production, 10 years ago, when he was a student at the West Australian Academy of Performing Arts and she was doing A Winter’s Tale. Phillips asked her about Courtney and Shakespeare, he says, “and she was very quick to give that the thumbs up”.
So, on January 2 Courtney started work, reading and having Skype sessions with McPherson. Preparing before rehearsal started, he says, he always felt that immersing himself in the text was the primary research. “I familiarised myself with certain ideas, I did some reading on the occult, and some bits and pieces, other books, Antony Sher’s book about playing Richard III”, but it always came back to the text.
He embraced the idea that with Shakespeare “there’s no endgame, it requires constant exploration and you don’t ever work to a point where you’ve nailed it. Things will continue to evolve right until the end of the run, in some sense, and beyond, and probably six months after we finish I’ll figure out how to play it.”
Phillips likes to give his Shakespeare productions a contemporary context, and this Macbeth is no exception. It’s not about transposing the play into a new world — Macbeth as Tony Soprano, Scotland as the White House — more about finding fruitful images and parallels.
“The language is complex, and if the audience is seeing something they relate to, that can help,” Phillips says. “It’s a handhold inside the language.”
Courtney is fascinated by these possibilities, and curious about how they’ll play out. “In some ways those ideas make me nervous, but it doesn’t feel right in this day and age to put this on stage in Melbourne with a bunch of guys with long swords,” he says.
In many ways, Macbeth is a story of action. Courtney talks about the speed of his character’s transformation from triumph to ambition to the commission of an act “so terrible that it unhinges him … He gives himself over to the idea of chaos” to the point where all is meaningless, then, with his dying breath, “attempts to restore a sense of honour”.
Finding the right context for this dramatic shift, Phillips says, is tricky. “The first act is almost like a thriller, rushing along, and the last two acts are the same.” Yet in the middle of the play “there’s a completely different kind of intensity”, revolving around the intimate psychological drama of the relationship between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, his partner in ambition.
Finding the right Lady Macbeth was another piece of the puzzle, Phillips says. “Once I’d cast Jai, I knew what I was looking for, someone who could in some way match that energy.” Geraldine Hakewill, he says, “has a magnificence about her that works as the female to Jai’s male”.
On the surface, Courtney’s rise has been swift, although he doesn’t quite see it that way. After WAAPA and a couple of local TV gigs, his first significant break was in an American series, Spartacus: Blood and Sand, which was shot in New Zealand. Playing Varro, a Roman citizen turned gladiator to pay his gambling debts, “was a huge deal for me”, eight months’ work that meant leaving Australia and being part of a large-scale, well-resourced production.
He became close to the show’s star, Andy Whitfield, who died from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma in 2011. He gave Courtney friendship and professional advice about what to do after his time on Spartacus was over. The experience of the show, Courtney says, gave him the impetus to go to Los Angeles and try his luck, as well as “something to talk about when I got there, and a little bit of money in my back pocket to stay alive while I was there”.
Michael Douglas caused a stir in 2015 when he suggested Australian and British actors were taking roles from American actors because they brought more to the screen. The British were better trained, and “with the Aussies”, Douglas said, “it’s the masculinity”. Courtney has heard this assertion about Australian performers many times, but he’s keen to point to other traits he thinks are just as important — what he describes as “a lack of fear in exploring vulnerability that isn’t the opposite of masculinity, that strengthens a character”.
In Los Angeles, he found representation and started to land roles. As well as the bad guy misguided enough to take on Cruise in action thriller Jack Reacher, he was Willis’s estranged son in A Good Day to Die Hard, the fifth movie in the Die Hard franchise. He was John Connor (the fourth actor to play the character) in Terminator Genisys; he was a member of a World War II aircrew in Angelina Jolie’s Unbroken; and he was a lieutenant-colonel trying to help identify the Anzac dead in Russell Crowe’s The Water Diviner.
He also appeared in a smaller film in Australia, Matthew Saville’s Felony, a police drama with a script by Joel Edgerton, who also stars in it. Courtney read the screenplay, he says, and pushed hard to be considered for a role, well before the project got off the ground: “I was desperate to come on board.” It’s a film full of moral ambiguity, in which characters make bad decisions for what they believe are good reasons. “At the centre of it you’ve got a man” — Edgerton’s character — “who’s done something really wrong,” Courtney says, “but somehow you want the best for him.” He gives a quiet, watchful performance as a cop who finds that good intentions are not enough.
There’s something about playing conflicted characters that appeals to him, he says. He has a film coming out in June called The Exception that gave him similar rewards: he plays a Wehrmacht soldier during World War II sent to investigate the exiled Kaiser Wilhelm II. “Christopher Plummer plays the kaiser and he’s just a dream to work with, it was such a privilege.”
Since that production, he says, it has been a while since he has been on a film set, by choice. To take a role, he says, “I had come to a point where it had to be about growth, in some sense. If it felt like a step backwards or I could have been taking it for the wrong reasons then I wasn’t going to do it.”
His biggest film, in budget and box-office terms, is Suicide Squad, a 2016 comic book adaptation that did well enough financially but didn’t find favour with critics or elements of the fan base. Courtney — who played a bombastic anti-hero supervillain who wields a boomerang and has a soft spot for a toy pink unicorn — is philosophical about its reception: “I loved the movie and we had a lot of fun doing it,” he says, but adds it could have been a victim of the intense anticipation built up around it.
He lost a bet with a fellow cast member, Queenslander Margot Robbie, over the result of a State of Origin game, and has the name of her home state tattooed on his wrist. “Not something I’m proud of,” he says. “But it makes a good story.”
He can look at his performance analytically, he says, when he watches a finished film. “I don’t necessarily enjoy watching myself. I think some things turned out better than others; some stuff I can’t watch again.” He’s just as interested in the work of others, he adds. “I want to hear the sound design and see how it’s edited — those elements you’re not privy to when you’re shooting are really fascinating to me.”
Filmmaking was not his focus growing up. As a high school student in Sydney he was given a taste for acting by an innovative project run out of the NSW Department of Education. He auditioned every year for its ensemble program. “By the time I was in Year 12 we were putting on full-on shows, working with voice coaches and doing a mini-season in a theatre, mimicking the atmosphere of a professional company,” he says. “Paul Viles was the guy who was running that department at the arts unit and he’d really helped me develop that interest.”
At that stage, he says, the height of his ambition would have been to appear on stage at Sydney’s Belvoir theatre. He decided to take the next step, auditioning for drama schools: National Institute of Dramatic Art, Victorian College of the Arts and WAAPA. He was accepted by the last.
Even with the experience he’d had, drama school was a culture shock. At first, he says, “I felt like a fish out of water. I think there was a total energy shift from being in the suburbs and being around my mates and playing footy (league).” Somehow, “I was still exploring my curiosity. I didn’t feel like an actor yet.” It took time to find his feet.
He did a couple of plays in Perth after he graduated: The Turning with Perth Theatre Company and Cyrano de Bergerac with Black Swan. It has been a while since he has been on stage; about six years, he says, since he was part of a Sydney drama co-operative and had to fill in at the last minute for an actor who suddenly got a high-paying film gig. At 24 hours notice, he recalls, he had to learn his lines to play Andrey in The Three Sisters. “I’ve had a bit more time to get ready for this one.”
He was well prepared for some aspects of an acting life, he says, but there are some things only experience can teach. “There’s a lot of argument about whether drama schools prepare actors enough for the reality of the professional world, but I don’t really know how you do. You can’t simulate rejection and the kind of hustle required to stay afloat during the tough times.
“It’s a bizarre thing — so many of us want to act, but when you get out into the world you spend very little of your time actually getting to do that.” In the early years, “unless you’re creating work for yourself and attaching to co-op theatre, for some people getting an ad is the most performing they’ve done in a year, and that’s a reality of it”.
Even now, he says, “I’ve never been at a place where I’m fending off work opportunities at every turn. Occasionally you’re in a position where you know what might be happening after the thing you’re working on, but more often than not it’s back to the drawing board.”
Success brings additional expectations: red carpet appearances, the media spotlight, publicity tours and fan attention, all of which he seems to take in his stride. He has never been on Facebook, and confines his social media activity to Instagram, with a slight hiccup when he discovered there was another user pretending to be him. “I thought it was funny at first, but then some of the stuff they were posting gave me the shits.” He tries to use the platform to engage with fans in a fairly straightforward way. “If I think about it too much it starts to feel like work.”
After Macbeth, it turns out that he does know what he’ll be doing next. He’ll scarcely have time to draw breath, going straight to South Australia to star alongside Geoffrey Rush in Storm Boy, a new take on Colin Thiele’s children’s book that was adapted into a much-loved film in 1976.
He couldn’t say no, he says. “I was so excited to hear about the possibility of it and then I read this beautiful script with a present-day story that harks back to the original and it’s balanced really nicely.
“I’d love some down time, but I’ll get that when the film’s done. Ask me again in eight weeks’ time, after I’ve been doing eight shows a week.”
Macbeth is at the Southbank Theatre, Melbourne, from June 5 to July 15.