In Honour of International Women’s Day: 10 Movies About Friendship Directed by Women
Breathedir. Mélanie Laurent (2014) Charlie is an average French suburban teenager, but when she becomes fast friends with Sarah, the rebellious new girl at school, she discovers there’s nothing average about how she feels.
Daisiesdir. Vera Chytilová (1966) Two girls try to understand the meaning of the world and their life.
The Edge of Seventeen dir. Kelly Fremon Craig (2016) High-school life gets even more unbearable for Nadine when her best friend, Krista, starts dating her older brother.
The Fitsdir. Anna Rose Holmer (2015) While training at the gym 11-year-old tomboy Toni becomes entranced with a dance troupe. As she struggles to fit in she finds herself caught up in danger as the group begins to suffer from fainting spells and other violent fits.
The Forest for the Treesdir. Maren Ade (2003) As an awkward idealistic high school teacher begins her first job in the city, things turn out to be much tougher than she had imagined.
Divinesdir. Houda Benyamina (2016) In a housing estate on the outskirts of Paris, a teenager who is hungry for her share of power and success becomes a runner for a drug dealer.
Hush Little Babydir. Hella Joof (2009) Four dysfunctional teenage girls steal a car and elope from the institution where they live. They go on a road trip across Denmark, confronting ghosts of the past and settling old accounts as their dark secrets are revealed.
The Innocentsdir. Anne Fontaine (2016) In 1945 Poland, a young French Red Cross doctor who is sent to assist the survivors of the German camps discovers several nuns in advanced states of pregnancy during a visit to a nearby convent.
In Bloomdir. Nana Ekvtimishvili & Simon Groß (2013) Set in the Georgian capital of Tbilisi in 1992. Friends Eka and Natia look to leave childhood behind as they ignore societal customs and work to escape their turbulent family lives.
Thirteen dir. Catherine Hardwicke (2003) A thirteen-year-old girl’s relationship with her mother is put to the test as she discovers drugs, sex, and petty crime in the company of her cool but troubled best friend.
It’s not even that Bitty doesn’t think he’s cute, because plenty of people think Bitty is cute. Hell, he’s got a vlog - over half his audience call him ‘adorable’ and the rest use words like ‘nice boy’ and ‘such a sweetheart’
He carefully retakes, crops and filters his selfies so that he (and whomever he is with) always look their best, and he is aware that he’s got a great body - he has to, what with the hockey and all.
Not that anyone would know about the great body though, because it’s not like anyone has ever made a damn move to get their hands on it.
The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Rubeus Hagrid’s vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumours that Albus Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.
A dance troupe performed at an annual drum festival in San Basilio de Palenque, Colombia. The villagers speak what is thought to be the only Spanish-based Creole language in Latin America. By Scott Dalton for The New York Times.
By the time Hallowe'en arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to thedeathday party. The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Hallowe'en feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Rubeus Hagrid’s vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumours that Albus Dumbledorehad booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.
Ok lesbian minako spam because im literally crying this hc has warmed me (also based my experiences of being ur fave lesbian dancer)
Minako coming out to her dance troupe and expecting backlash, disgust, you can’t change with us anymore but they’re her sisters and love her.
Minako being DISGUSTED by people who imply she dances for any reason other than her love of the art.
Minako going through the “Just came out of the closet” stage and chopping off all her hair right before a competition and having to wear extensions in performances for like 2 years.
She had a poster of Lilia that was her gay poster.
Minako meeting Hiroko in college through a class/tutor session and she just FALLS because she’s so cute and small and chubby and Minako is dying.
They end up dating a little bit but end on good terms since Minako needs to focus on her career+travel. They remain life long friends.
When Hiroko meets Toshi she expects Minako to be upset but no she does a 20 min long speech at the wedding and when Mari is born she deems herself godmother while sobbing because “I LOVE THIS CHILD”
Lbr, the Katsuki kids are her kids.
When Yuuri is born she knows she FINALLY got a little dancer.
She watches him, helps him, learns EVERYTHING to know about anxiety, keeps an extra bottle of his meds in her purse, does his hair for competitions, is the driving force of him going pro. (Yuuri’s family in canon doesn’t know a lot about it…so someone had to)
She finally lets it drop she’s a lesbian to Yuuri and Yuuri is midspin, stops, and then starts sobbing because he likes boys and he’s SCARED.
I’m not saying that Yuuri came out for the first time sobbing in Minako’s studio in nothing but a tank top and tights but……
Thayne Jasperson can currently be seen in the ensemble of the Broadway cast of Hamilton. He plays Samuel Seabury and understudies the roles of Laurens/Philip and King George III. He is also a member of the original cast and has been with the show since its 2014 pre-off Broadway Workshop. Thayne made his Broadway debut as Darcy in Newsies in 2012. He also appeared in Matilda on Broadway and in the touring production of West Side Story. He has also appeared in several movies and tv shows including High School Musical 1 and 2. He was also a finalist on season 4 of So You Think You Can Dance. He is also in the film American Mall with former SYTYCD and Hamilton castmate, Neil Haskell.
Thayne Jasperson is a talented dancer, but he actually did not start dancing until he was 22 years old. He started taking classes after joining a local dance troupe and is trained in ballet, jazz, modern tap, and hip hop.
Thayne frequently teaches acting, dance, singing, and audition skills at seminars, workshops, and master classes in New York and across the country and often works with high schools and youth groups.
Thayne is also a choreographer.
Thayne works with Music For Autism, an organization aimed at providing sensory friendly concerts and music education opportunities for children with autism.
Thayne is known among fans for his quirky personality and strange antics. He loves candy and cookies, often makes strange videos for the cast, raps in Spanish, and can sometimes be found napping upside down on the stairs. His sense of humor is delightfully infectious.
Black history month day 24: dancer and entertainer Bill ‘Bojangles’ Robinson.
Bill Robinson was born Luther Robinson on May 25th, 1878. His parents died when he was eight and he was raised by his grandmother. From the age of five, Robinson begin dancing for spare change and was eventually chosen as a pickaninny for a local minstrel show (pickaninnies were cute black children who were basically extras and background characters in minstrel shows).
At age 13 Robinson ran off to Washington DC and did a series of odd jobs. Later he joined the Army as a rifleman during the Spanish American war. By 1900 Robinson became active full-time in a career of vaudeville performance, starring in dance troupes, comedy duos, and even blackface and minstrel performances.
At times Robinson came under some heavy criticism for his participation in and tacit acceptance of racial stereotypes of the era, with critics calling him an Uncle Tom figure. However, he did do many things to help improve the situation of blacks, including persuading the Dallas police department to hire its first African American policemen and lobbying President Roosevelt during World War II for more equitable treatment of African American soldiers.
Robinson was the best known and most highly paid African American entertainer in the first half of the twentieth century. He was especially well-known for his collaborations with child star Shirley Temple, and the two of them made the first interracial dance team in Hollywood film history. Robinson also starred with Lena Horne and Cab Calloway in “Stormy Weather”, a film loosely based on Robinson’s life.
Dancers in traditional Khmer dress prepare to perform at the Angkor temple complex. Khmer culture almost vanished during the bloody reign of the Khmer Rouge communists in the 1970s, but Cambodians today are reclaiming their inheritance.
Summary: It takes him seventy years to realise he’s in love with her and she’s no longer the girl he once knew. They’re both different now, fighting on different sides, him as Captain America and her as the ruthless Winter Soldier, but Jon refuses to believe this isn’t his Sansa and he’ll do whatever it takes to reach her.
It has been seventy years since he crash landed in the Arctic, seventy years since he’s seen a familiar face, and although the technological advancements of the twenty-first century are something to marvel over, Jon doesn’t feel particularly that impressed by it. New York is harsher than he remembers, colder in a way that the war never brought out; people are always rushing from one place to another, shoving and yelling at each other without a modicum of respect. His New York wasn’t perfect, Jon knows this, and he remembers the injustices and the cruelty that lurked at every corner, but he misses the community. He misses his mum, though she died years before he ever even enlisted in the war, but most of all, he misses the Starks. Great big overprotective Robb, tough little Arya, kind and smart Bran and young baby Rickon.
But of course… her. Oh, he misses her like a bird longs for flight. In a way, the comparison is apt. She was his freedom, her smile his salvation and her eyes his home.
They hadn’t always been as close as they were. Sansa was different to the Starks. She longed for a life on the stage, to be front and centre, dancing and twirling batons to help lift the spirits of the troops overseas. It was her way of giving back, she always said. Jon never liked the idea, only so much as he didn’t like the idea of Sansa ever being anywhere near the line of duty, but once that girl sets her mind to something, she always does it.
It was a source of contention between them for much of their childhood. At first, Jon couldn’t understand why she would want to be a dancer. He was a stubborn ass though, so this wasn’t news; he simply couldn’t see how a dancing troupe could affect the war positively in any way. She should’ve been more like Arya, raring to fight alongside the men and doing her damndest to do so. That was true bravery in his eyes. But then that all changed.
Jon was walking home from the recruitment centre, rejected again for the umpteenth time for being medically unfit, when he came across a group of known bullies ragging on some poor kid only an inch shorter than Jon himself. The rage was abrupt, curling and roiling inside of him, and he had his hands in fists before he even stepped off the pavement. But a second later, Jon realised he didn’t have to. A sweet voiced called out, sharp and soft but no less demanding.
“Why don’t you boys pick on someone your own size, huh?” Sansa stepped up to the three large brutes. Jon felt his hackles rise, a deep, surprising need to protect her surging forward.
But she was smiling and it seemed to soften the blow as the three boys merely appraised her, taking in the curve of her hips, emphasised by the cinched waist of her dress. “This is America, dollface. We gotta show we’re tough. Letting these tweeds walk around while the rest are fighting ain’t good. You understand.”
Sansa’s smile tightened. “What I understand is you aren’t out there fighting either, so I suggest you go on get yourself enlisted before the girls around here find out you’re all cowards.”
“Hey, who said we haven’t! We were just –”
“I’m not saying anything,” Sansa interrupted with a pretty arch of her brow. She walked up to the one clearly in charge and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Big boys like you will surely do us all proud, right?”
Within seconds, Sansa had all three boys eating out of the palm of her hands before they all went scurrying away to prove their worth somewhere else. Almost as soon as they were gone, she hurried to kneel beside the younger boy and propped a hand behind his head.
“Hey, hey,” she murmured. “Are you alright there? Gosh, I’m so sorry about them. They’re mean ones. If my brother was home, he would’ve…” Sansa stopped abruptly and inhaled sharply, whilst shaking her head. “You remind me of someone, you know? Real tough guy too.”
The boy, barely a year or two older than Bran, sniffled and shook his head. “I’m not tough, miss.”
After getting the boy to sit up, Sansa inclined her head and smiled, genuinely now. “What? Looked like you were being mighty tough from where I was.” She gave a soft chuckle. “It’s easy to answer life with violence. It’s harder to weather its beatings.”
The boy looked doubtful as he wiped at his bloodied nose, the sleeve of his shirt coming away crimson and wet.
“Trust me,” Sansa said, helping him stand. “That someone I know? He’s real brave, just like you. Gets into more fights than you’d believe but he keeps going, you know? Keeps on getting up, putting up his fists like he knows what to do with ‘em. Real dumbass too, but… brave.”
That was him… Wasn’t it?
Jon couldn’t understand it. Never in his years of knowing the Starks had Sansa ever really spoken to him and yet she… admired him? It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. And with a clouded mind and a conflicted heart, Jon walked away that day, trying to reconcile this image of snobby Sansa Stark with the one he had just witnessed.
pairing: park woojin x reader summary:
Park Woojin is the shyest, sweetest, and most talented ghost you’re ever going to meet.
ever since you moved to Busan, things have been a little strange
you settled in easily enough, joining the school newspaper’s tiny staff as its sole photographer
when they unveil the new arts building where the old gardens used to stand, you’re one of the three students present
the new caretaker offers to give you a tour, and you’re the only one who takes it
within minutes of unlocking the building, the caretaker grows bored and asks you if he can go take care of something
you’re tempted to report him because you know he just wants to smoke on the grounds, but this is an important chance to explore before everyone else
you’ve run out of battery on your camera and your phone, but it doesn’t matter since nothing exciting is likely to happen anyway
you’re climbing the stairs when you get a prickly feeling at the back of your neck, a wave of light-headedness hitting you, and you KNOW there’s something there
you see something in the corner of your right eye and follow the faint sound of music that grows louder as you near the end of the hallway
the door’s ajar and you see a bulky old radio, R&B from the early 2000s booming from its speakers
in the room is a young man dancing with his back to you, his form graceful and fierce. you’re watching him with wide-eyes because??? you were expecting something as dumb as a ghost sighting and instead you find something moving and beautiful
you enter the room as the song finishes, and he turns around, revealing one of the gentlest faces you’ve seen in a while, prompting you to say, “hey, you’re a really great dancer!!” with a smile
then he smiles a snaggletooth smile and blushes and FUCKING DISAPPEARS
you were always a cautious believer in the supernatural; back in Seoul, your aunt would warn you about which alleyways to stay away from, when to apologize to an errant spirit, and how to pay due respects
when you moved to Busan to live with your no-nonsense grandfather, he dismissed everything spiritual as ridiculous, and soon you came to agree with him
sure, you enjoy reading scary stories till late at night, freaking out at the smallest noise at three in the morning
and yes, you may be known as the paranormal “expert” in your class because of how well you know all the different superstitions
okay, you may have nearly burned down the gardens because you lit a candle to make sure the guard dog that had chased a truck wouldn’t come back
but you definitely considered yourself a retired paranormal believer, so seeing and talking to an honest-to-goodness spirit has you reconsidering your life choices
the next day you return with a fully charged camera, prepared to catch at least his dancing on film for you to send to your aunt, and you wait hours and hours after school in dance studio B but nothing happens
you’re curled up in a ball and nearly fall asleep when the radio clicks on, and you scramble to get either your phone or your camera but they’ve both run out of battery
the boy doesn’t appear anyway, so you get up to leave, and you stretch while closing your eyes, and when you open them he appears, shy and shimmering in the sunset’s light
his name is park woojin; he’s seventeen years old; and those are pretty much the only two things he can tell you for sure
you try to make a lame-ass twilight joke—“how long have you been seventeen?”—and he just looks confused, so you ask him about dancing instead
and he tells you he’s glad to have found this space because it feels right for him to be dancing here, but also that for the first time he has an audience
woojin blushes when you ask him to dance for you, but readily agrees, his smile morphing into what you’ll soon call his “killer dance face”
you mean dead dance face? he jokes, and your hand goes right through his arm when you try to slap him
dance studio B becomes your regular hangout after school until the school’s dance troupe begins to use it, and you’re worried you’ll never see woojin again until he appears by your side as you’re walking home
that becomes part of your daily routine: you and woojin at the edge of school grounds, with you watching him dance by the light of the fading sun, his lithe body casting no silhouettes
he walks you home, and after talking about anything and everything under the sun, you say your goodbyes at your gate, your school day not complete without the sight of his smile
“woojin,” you say once, fiddling with the settings of your camera, “don’t you ever want to move to the next life?”
and he looks at you, the leaves’ shadows covering all but your bright eyes and fond smile, and his heart aches, but all he says is, i don’t know how
you look up and mistake the longing on his face for sadness, so you tell him, “we can fix this,” and call up your aunt as soon as you get home, and she says you need to find his story to find out what’s keeping him on earth
and you start to read through the school newspaper’s physical archives, searching for a mention of his name
woojin doesn’t know how to tell you he wants to stay, that you’re the first person who’s made him wish he were alive again, if only to find out if your hair is as soft as it looks, if your nose against his would tingle as he imagines it would, and he wants to say all of this but can’t find the words
day by day, his dancing grows more impassioned, the movements precise but desperate, and one day you cry while watching him, promising him you’ll help him soon
and you feel guilty because you’ve been going slowly at the archives, not wanting to lose your new friend, not thinking about how he’s the brightest part of your day
you finally find out the details of his death, an awful construction accident that left him in a coma for a week, which your aunt says is easy enough to fix with blessed spring water and the right prayer
and you tell woojin and he smiles sadly
tomorrow, woojin says, not able to say no when you’ve worked so hard
and he asks to come in when you arrive at your gate, and after dinner, you find him sitting at the foot of your bed
jokingly, you take a picture of him, telling him it’s an image you’d like to save forever, and he makes a face at the camera
you get under the covers and pat the space at your side, and the two of you lie face to face, and you swear you can feel his slightly translucent arm draped over your shoulder, and you close your eyes so he doesn’t see your tears
the next afternoon, the two of you decide you’ll perform the ritual as he dances, a fitting goodbye for the both of you
and you’re crying as you chant, the repetitions forming a rhythm he dances to, the setting sun growing clearer behind him as he fades away
before he disappears, he reaches over, and you feel a whisper of a kiss against your lips
i’m glad i met you, you hear
you cry and cry and look for him everywhere, but woojin is nowhere to be found
months later you’re going through your camera roll and you find something that makes you smile
and whenever your friends ask about the unfamiliar face among your photos, you tell them
By the time Hallowe'en arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the deathday party. The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Hallowe'en feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Rubeus Hagrid’s vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumours that Albus Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment