Cursed Child was dumb and here are some reasons why
(warning: spoilers. this probably won’t make sense unless you’ve read the script. far be it from me to recommend this kneazle-vomit of a play, though, so if you haven’t read it, good)
the plot is messy, strange, and childish. there’s only one time-turner left!! how will the characters cope when said time-turner is lost? oh lol they’ll just use this other convenient time-turner. for convenient plot points, see also: harry can suddenly speak parseltongue again, because well he just kind of needs to be able to do that
Harry cursing “oh dumbledore” without a hint of irony. like really? really
the characterisation was a pile of dragon dung and we all freaking know it. let’s break it down into individual characters here because fuck if I can stop at one bullet point for this
Hermione: the brightest witch of her age, the constant crusader for the unloved and the unrepresented, whose successful career and capacity for kindness apparently rest in the hands of her romance with Ron Weasley. oh… but wait. it sounds a little familiar, this story. hear me out. let’s see now, a highly intelligent person who falls in love but doesn’t have that love reciprocated, and who then becomes a really fucking mean teacher at Hogwarts through bitterness. sound like anyone we know? fam, they tried to parallel Hermione and Snape. Hermione and Snape. this being the same Snape who sneered in Hermione’s face when she’d been visibly hexed, and made her cry; the same Snape who bullied Neville Longbottom for years, while Hermione muttered instructions under her breath to help him. if you want to tell me that Hermione would ever allow herself to become a Snape parallel then I will kindly invite you to shove a dirigible plum where there’s no lumos solem
Harry: when Harry was at his angriest in OOTP, and he’s yelling at Ron and Hermione, there’s one thing we notice. everything he yells is true. he means it. he’s bitter about it and he’s loud and furious, but he doesn’t have the kind of anger that just says anything to cause hurt, that speaks without thinking, not even at this crisis point in his life. are you really going to tell me that the boy who knows down to his bones what it’s like to feel rejected, and misunderstood, and alone, would ever say - even in anger - that he wishes Albus wasn’t his son? I am going to snap wands over this
Cedric. and this one burns. because Cedric was brave and he was true, and he had a sense of justice that led him to telling Harry about the way the golden egg worked, and led him to sharing the winning of the triwizard tournament with Harry. he died, he was murdered at the age of seventeen, embodying a sense of justice so strong, an innocence, a goodness. Cedric Diggory - the boy who believed in fairness with an integrity that is astounding - becoming party to the indiscriminate killing and casual torture of the Death Eaters just because he had his head engorged one time… is about as likely as Hagrid stomping on a dragon egg. it’s an insult to who he was and I am going to engorge the entire bodies of the writers of this fucking play so that hopefully they’ll just float away too, with all the grace and likeability of Aunt Marge
Voldemort: can we all agree now that Voldemort would not father a child. the idea of him experiencing lust seems out of character; the idea of him giving into a base urge seems more so. it’s too human, too vulgar, too physical; it would associate him with the common and the mainstream in a way that I contend he would find repulsive. Tom Riddle Sr. was trapped by Merope into sex and romance; to have sex would be to bring himself closer to his parents, down to the level of a Muggle and a witch who lacked power and craved love, two things Voldemort could never, ever stand. no. he wouldn’t have sex just because he wanted to; he’d be repelled by the idea. what other reason could there be for him to do the nasty with Bellatrix? to ensure the continuation of his line? that makes even less sense. achieving immortality for Voldemort was always a question of magic, a personal quest. he wouldn’t go for a messy, physical back-up plan. he always thought that he would win. if anything, he would see a child as a future threat, not a security. another being in the world with the promise of his power? he wouldn’t risk it.
what the fuck was that trolley witch scene though
“for voldemort and valour” are you serious. is there a Gryffindor spy in the Voldemort camp laughing their ass off because they actually managed to get that one through. and are they ten years old
overall, the message of the play infuriated me. Delphi was the child of Voldemort, so she was evil. Albus was the child of Harry, so he was good. Scorpius was the son of Draco, so he should have been evil, but Draco’s actually kind of good now and his mother was nice, so he can be good too. where is the complexity? was five hours of drama not enough to find some shades of morality? where is the hope, where is the resonance, in a story that says that good begets good and evil begets evil, and nothing can really change? the Harry Potter book series was about a boy who grew up with something inside him that was utterly evil, and who rejected it, fought against it, changed the path that fate seemed to wish him to walk. not slytherin, not slytherin. we had Regulus Black and Sirius Black, who rejected their pasts, whose heritage and whose House stood for nothing against their principles, their eventual and separate forms of bravery. we had Remus Lupin, who transformed into a monster but never became one, not even after years of rejection and pain. we had the word mudblood, and we watched Hermione fight it, we knew it was ridiculous to label someone based on their blood. and now… we have the Cursed Child. a playwhich is flat, and stupid, and tells us that your parentage inevitably dictates your character - and that how you’re treated is how you’ll treat others. dear writers, in the words of Albus Dumbledore, you fail to recognise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be. you fucks.
Prompt: During Crystal Venom, Corrupted!Alfor and Coran are canonically on the bridge together. What would corrupted!Alfor say to him?
Ok, so since I actually know this was @reidluver now, I’m gonna go ahead and tag you. :P Also, sorry for how long this took, only no, I’m not, because it’s also like twice as long as I’d planned. But the actual canonical scene started with Corrupted!Alfor ordering Coran and the others to stay away from his daughter and how could I not? I mean, holy crap, Voltron, are you trying to kill me? Anyway, I hope this is at least half as much fun to read as it was to write, because I am a not-so-secret drama queen and I definitely needed this.
“Stay away from my daughter!”
The words hit Coran like a blow to the gut. Allura’s voice, too dreamy and too high and too unreal, was bad enough, but this - he stopped in his tracks, clenching his jaw as he breathed in through his nose and tried not to let the pain show. After a breath, he could work out what was happening. "The crystal must have corrupted King Alfor’s artificial intelligence. It’s taking over!“
His chest felt tight, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he’d been uncomfortable with the AI even before. He’d been Alfor the way he was when he knocked Allura out and put her in a pod, not Alfor the way he was at the very, very end, and it had hurt to watch him, to know that the Alfor in front of him wasn’t just artificial, but incomplete, to know that this Alfor wasn’t the one who had finally, finally run out of hope and gone back into the fight anyway, leaving him behind.
At least the unreality of this AI was obvious. Alfor had gone to face Zarkon alone, but first he had looked him in the eye, holding his elbow steadily, in the grip of a brother-in-arms, and made him swear to take care of Allura. Even the old AI Alfor had never done that, had never committed him into her service, had never committed her into his care. Perhaps the old AI had known he would, or could, or might, but he hadn’t. This new Alfor - no. This new AI wasn’t Alfor at all. Not if he was trying to keep them apart.
Also, I need more fics about the effects of Eggsy’s past abuse on him. Because in a dangerous situation, he’s calm and cool as hell. But when things are calm, and he’s supposed to feel safe, he doesn’t.
I need his Kingsman family to notice this. And to make it better.
Ugh, choises can be the WORSTI wish you strength and mental clarity
to make it through!Also if you need someone to talk about
it I’m here
thank you! TT_TT it’s a bit complicated though, because obviously french administration is complicated *snort*
to be simple: I can chose between sports and languages for both my option AND a class for bonus point, though languages classes didn’t give any schedule yet and participation is obligatory for them. The logical thing is to take sport as option but I really wanted english so it kinda put me down and then there was the numbers of sports to look at, so yeah it’s stressing me out so I screamed and hit ‘sign’ on one of the myriad of sports (and schedule, bc they let us chose that too) that I kinda liked
end of story I’m having a tea
(thank you all, I’m fine, impulsiveness and rationality won)
idk i just really need Trip being super supportive and caring towards Ward
because when he finds out what Ward went through not just at home but at John’s hands, when it all comes out, finally, so the team finally fucking understands the kind of man Ward is–not a monster, just a broken man, weak but capable of getting stronger with some help and healing–Trip just nods
because it all makes sense, because the snide comments John sometimes tossed his way, so close to being racist as to get under his skin but not enough to go against the pull and power of a level 8 agent personally trained by nick fury, the way John treated people more vulnerable than him, younger, lower clearance levels, all these things were the sort of little red flags abusers throw up that people are conditioned to dismiss, to rationalize away. but Trip is better than that and he recognizes and he understands
and he has the empathy and kindness and ability to care that Ward needs and he offers him a helping hand
not in the way the rest of the team does, because he wasn’t there to see the man Ward could be the way they were, that kind of encouragement and support is for them
but Trip is there for the kind of encouragement that allows the two of them to sit together on the couch with a few beers and Trip just listens while Ward vents and vents and vents about John and every horrible thing he put up with, everything he endured, every living nightmare he lived in, to let Ward curse and swear and spit violent, vicious hate against his abuser that is well deserved and a long time coming, to talk about what a shit bastard he was and how fucking glad they are that he’s dead and that he died horribly, the freedom Ward now has to speak ill of the man that abused him, to treat him like the scum he was without fear of punishment or retribution or anger, to get a chance to not just talk and heal through warmth and love and positivity but some well deserved hatred and righteous anger
Trip being the big brother that Ward needs and deserves and appreciates so much
Ward knowing he’s not alone in what he went through and finally having someone trust and believe him when he talks about the cruelty John visited on him
Trip taking care of everyone on his team, Ward included
it’s like: remember that time i put my leg on yours in the car remember that time i put every piece of shitty music that ever made me laugh on a cd for your shitty car remember that time i stared a little too long and my eyes traced patterns on your skin remember that time i wanted to kiss your hands but i dreamed something for them instead
it’s like: you’re more stubborn than any cow i’ve ever dragged back into that damn barn but you’re also a million times better than any cow
it’s like: the first time i met you i stole your seat and flipped through your neat notebook and scribbled with your pens until you told me to get the hell out of your chair and you stood straight and you looked like you knew how to take a punch but you also looked angry enough and frightened enough to deliver one so i laughed but i got up and the look you gave me in freshman year latin was enough to chill my bones
it’s like: what does this vaulted ceiling school even matter when i dreamed my brother when you have sacrificed yourself to bring some talking trees back from the dead when we wake trapped sleeping daughters when psychics are real when a hitman killed my father for a tool when the trees speak latin when a river of magic courses in time with your heartbeat how does any of this compare (but i get it, i try to, i really do)
it’s like: i don’t know how this happened
it’s like: when you inhale you swallow forests from leaf to root and back again when you exhale you give life to long dead flowers and sing all the beasts to sleep and the fact that you breathe when you look at me is a minor miracle
I’m not the kind of person who’s really very good at forming her own opinions on things. It takes me a while to kind of ponder and crystallize how I feel about most topics, and pretty much everything winds up having elements where it looks different from different angles, so I never have like, A Solid Feeling I Always Feel About This Thing.
(I used to worry about it a lot, when I was a kid. There are still some songs/bands/albums I listen to and remember my deep anxiety: how could I tell if this was Good? Other people seemed to always know– that music’s shit and we’ll laugh at you, this music’s Great but only right now, that music there is Classic and no matter what will always be Good. How do you know which is which.)
Anyway. So, I don’t really have An Opinion Of My Own about Rogue One.
What I do have, after reading many reviews, is an interesting observation to make:
Every person of color I’ve read a review from loved it. I don’t know that my sample is representative, but for so many people, it fulfilled such a deep-seated need inside them that, several reviewers independently said, they hadn’t realized they still had, to see someone who looked like them in this context. And that’s incredibly touching, to me. I know I cried to see a lady pilot among the 70s-moustached dudes! My only tears of the movie. So I get that, I do, and I’m so excited for it.
The critical reviews I’ve read have mostly not been from people of color. And they’ve made excellent points– how terrible is it, for one, that the only way the powers that be could see their way to putting so many men of color into a Star Wars film was to kill them all in the end? The hope, and eventual success, of the Rebellion is literally built on the ashes and bones of women and people of color, who were expressly not included in the glorious success at the end of the original trilogy.
(And also: where are the women of color. Where are the women, period. What the fuck, racists and misogynists were already going to protest your movie; you could have done whatever you wanted at this point, so why was this all you wanted??)
I feel like the critical points are good to make. And I feel like that’s maybe who should be making them. Sure, there are valid points to be argued about structural or thematic weaknesses, sure there are still complaints to be made. But.
If you got to have representation for the first time in this movie, you should feel free to enjoy it uncritically.
because im a perfectionist, the artist’s psychosis
because it matters to me, more than just getting the video out
because its cathartic, like slowly wittling a trunk into a tiny realistic horse
because its a stress reliever, doing the one thing that i excel at pumps my dopamine most efficiently
because when i get something right, its comparable to something like that of an orgasm
because i want to see your fear translate through your fingertips, into the keyboard, and onto my screen
because i dont want to look back, watch my video, and be reminded of the horrifying horrible terrible no good very bad thing that i neglected to fix in post, sticking out like a black eye that i gave myself, haunting me every time i watch the final product on youtube