As we celebrate different forms of punk filmmaking today, I’d like to celebrate the King of Filth, John Waters. He is surely one of my favorite directors, but also one of my favorite humans to ever grace this universe we call home. He has been a pivotal figure in queer and transgressive cinema since the 1960s and has garnered cult status because of it. He’s also HILARIOUS. Some of his films include: Mondo Trasho, Multiple Maniacs, Pink Flamingos, Female Trouble, Desperate Living, Polyester, Hairspray, Cry-Baby, Serial Mom, Pecker, Cecil B. Demented (MY PERSONAL FAVORITE), and A Dirty Shame. Also his favorite film of all time is Pasolini’s Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975). Go look it up, thank me later.
Another fantastic piece of news regarding Waters, his hard-to-find film Multiple Maniacs has been deemed fit for restoration by Janus Films who are responsible for The Criterion Collection! Hopefully we can see a blu-ray release chocked full of amazing extras in the near future.
Now I will leave you with some of the wonderful wisdom that has been uttered by this truly wonderful man:
“Get more out of life, see a fucked up movie.”
“Without obsession, life is nothing.”
“I thank God I was raised Catholic, so sex will always be dirty.”
“I stopped taking drugs when I realized that pot smelled bad and LSD trips were becoming like TV reruns. I had had enough inner journeys — I felt I knew myself well enough, thank you.”
“We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them.”
“I’ve always said that in the film world you have to pretend eight million people are gonna love it and in the art world, if eight million people love it, it’s really BAD. So it’s the reverse aesthetic, in a way.”
“’How could you think of such awful things?’ liberal critics always ask. ‘How else could I possibly amuse myself?’ I always wonder.”
“To me, bad taste is what entertainment is all about. If someone vomits while watching one of my films, it’s like getting a standing ovation. But one must remember that there is such a thing as good bad taste and bad bad taste.”
“Unfortunately I think that ‘The Golden Age of Trash’ is over. I think hardcore (porn) ruined it, and I think Hollywood co-opting violence ruined it. Because those were the two things that you really couldn’t have, and what was the staple of all drive-in movies was sex and violence. Now Hollywood makes them, so there’s no rules left to be broken.”
“My porn name, if you’re supposed to take your middle name and the name of the street you grew up on, would be Samuel Clark. That’s not a very good porn name.”
“Going to a sensational murder trial is the only way I can relax.”
“If you’re not sure you could love your children, please don’t have them, because they might grow up and kill us.”
“Maybe it’s time that we use humor for political actions. If there’s a local politician against gay marriage, let’s send scary drag queens to his house to yell fashion insults at his wife.”
“If you’re in Hollywood and you’ve taken a script to the studios and they say it’s too gay, well get your gay screenwriter friends and go back to the studio and yell out the grosses of all their hetero flops.”
“I’ve been called the Pope of Trash… I’ve been milking that title for years, and maybe that’s why I feel infallible.”
“I pride myself on the fact that my work has no socially redeeming value.”
Let me just say your writing skills are absolutely amazing, good luck with this blog! Which do you think would be the Matsus' favourite Disney movies?
Thank you so much, it means a lot! (๑￣
expect him to be into stuff like Aladdin or Hercules, but he’s secretly a huge fan of
oldschool Disney movies like Snow White and Alice in Wonderland. He also almost broke a rib laughing at The
Emperor’s New Groove. He isn’t picky at all and will watch basically anything with
his little brothers. He particularly enjoys poking fun at Choromatsu’s
Karamatsu: "Heh. I am
a man who is neither bound by rules nor preferences” he says with a
triumphant expression. What the hell. How is that even
relevant. Anyway, he’s either being a pain in the rear end like that, or just
follows one of his brothers and nods approvingly like “yes, brother, that is my
favorite, too”. He simply can’t choose one or two favorites, because, in all honesty, he enjoys
watching all of the movies, especially if it’s with his brothers. Will
end up a crying, whimpering mess 99.99% of the time.
Choromatsu: Claims Atlantis and Treasure Planet to be “the
most underrated masterpieces”. Intends to be lowkey about it, but in reality he
just won’t shut up about how amazing they are, and how everyone should watch
them at least once in their lifetime. Yes, he does know they’ve all seen
them like a billion times already, but still.
surprise! It’s The Aristocats! It might seem like he’s just staring vacantly
into space with a rather uninterested expression on his face, but don’t let it
fool you – he’s internally screaming every time a kitten appears on screen,
which happens quite often with a movie about, well, cats. He will gladly watch anything with any
animals in it, too. Once Jyushimatsu saw him cry at the One Hundred and One
Dalmatians. They’ve decided to never talk about it again.
Jyushimatsu: Peter Pan and Lilo & Stitch. He likes
movies, but gets fidgety halfway. These are the only ones he can properly sit
through without getting distracted.
Todomatsu: He likes to tease his brothers when they get emotional
over a movie, but he cries like a baby at The Little Mermaid. Matsuyo probably
still has those drawings he did of himself as a mermaid when he was little.
Their all-time favorite has to be the Lion King, though. (Well, obviously.) Not
only do they know all the songs by heart, they’ve also have established different
roles and a complete choreography. Osomatsu and Karamatsu trying to outdo each
other at Scar’s song is pretty hilarious, and Jyushimatsu’s impressions of the
hyenas is also something, but Hakuna Matata is inarguably where true hell
Note: Y'all this is my first GoT fic so be gentle >< I tried to write the characters right and there will be a part two, so any feedback is appreciated as I’m on a personal mission to improve my writing. Also, this may or may not have formed from my fascination with Rory McCann’s hands… hence the choking…. it’s bad.
Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader
Warnings: Violence, insufferable Joffrey, angst
Summary: Joffrey orders something of Sandor which may be the only thing that can still tear him apart: harming you, a highborn lady whom Sandor has been courting in secret. He has no choice, however, and the two of you are stuck between love and keeping up important appearances.
“Dog. Choke Lady Y/N’s treasonous words out of her."
Joffrey’s order to his "dog” was not out of character at all. It simply caught you by surprise that it was Sandor whom he’d given the order to. Usually it was Sir Trant that carried out Joffrey’s sadistic commands but today, apparently, it was not. Though Trant still sneered cruelly on the sideline.
When the order was given to Sandor, you saw infinitesimal quirks of equal parts surprise, horror, and regret flash across his face that you knew no one could’ve seen but you. The crowded Throne room fell silent.
"What are you waiting for, dog?“ Joffrey sneered, "your king gave you and order!"
That was enough to shake Sandor out of his frozen silence, and with the clanging sound of metal armor, he took careful steps down to you. His eyes never left yours, even as he toward over you, your little frame completely shielded from the king by his hulking one.
"What are you waiting for! Choke her!” The king whined where you couldn’t see and you looked Sandor straight in the eyes. The regret there was immense but you knew if he didn’t follow Joffrey’s orders, there would be seven hells to pay.
“Do it, Sandor, it’s okay.” You murmured, eyes misty looking up at him. His pain was evident and you couldn’t bare it. Why that damned child picked this to be the one time he made Sandor his personal throne-side torturer and not Trant, you couldn’t fathom.
Slowly, Sandor’s hands came up to your throat. Each one could easily have wrapped around your neck by itself, being that his hands were so large, but he went with both for whatever reason. Sandor had barely touched you when the child-king squalled once again.
“Turn around, dog, I want to see her as she suffers!”
With a small jeer of his lips, Sandor obeyed and swung you both around. You caught a glimpse of Joffrey’s face, and a succinct hate filled your soul. He was taking pleasure in both your pain and Sandor’s obvious hesitation in harming a woman, a woman, little did Joffrey know, Sandor loved, and would agonize over hurting forever.
One day, I’ll kill him. You thought.
But you had a feeling that you weren’t the first to vow that to yourself.
You watched Sandor’s stormy eyes as his grip tightened just enough not to really hurt you but to look like he was. You gripped his large wrists, and toughed it out.
When Joffrey demanded that you be choked harder, you didn’t even feel it. Either Sandor refused or you were just numb. Either way, it didn’t matter. You were close to blacking out anyway when Sandor was allowed to let go.
He stood stony in place while you crumbled to the stone of the ground.
“That will teach you to speak ill to your king, filth.” Joffrey sneered whilst you heaved. You seethed.
"Many apologies, my king.“
Even the slight mocking tone of your voice was enough to set Joffrey off again. He boiled. Damn your sass.
"KICK HER! KICK HER HARD!”
The throne room was silent. Stilled to a halt by the echo of Joffrey’s bellow, and the obvious unwillingness within The Hound to immediately obey his king. Joffrey fumed and bustled down from the Iron throne.
“If you’re too soft to harm a woman, dog, so be it! I’ll show you how a man deals punishment.”
With that, you were dealt a hard blow to the gut, and doubled over in agony. The steel toe of Joffrey’s boot was harder than you’d imagined, and the kick was made all the worse by the fact that you hadn’t even gotten your breath back yet.
Joffrey kicked you again and again and you prayed Sandor wouldn’t behead him there and then. Luckily, just as Sandor’s hand twitched for his sword, a creaking sound filled the throne room as the double doors opened. In strode Tyrion and his attending posse, interrupting your little torture scene just before hell broke loose.
“How many women do you have to torture in a day to get your fill, Nephew?” Tyrion inquired loudly as the crowd parted to allow he and his entourage through.
“For the last time, you will address me as your King, imp.” Joffrey growled above you, yet still slowly retreated to his throne.
"Apologies, nephew but to be addressed by your uncle as king, you must behave accordingly. How do you think your grandfather would feel should he know his grandson was wasting his reigning efforts harassing high-born ladies?“
For once, the young King made no comeback, and Tyrion’s eyes fell on you briefly.
"Sir Clegane, please see Lady Y/N back to her chambers. Gently.” You looked at Tyrion and he nodded, the only Lannister you perhaps didn’t loathe.
Sandor came to your aid almost too hastily and picked you up as a husband does his bride. Your dirty dress hung in whisping tendrils as your hound carted you out of the throne room. The last thing you saw of the scene was a scowl on the king’s face and a weary smirk playing on Tyrion’s.
When you were gone from them, you shrunk sorely into the breastplate of your lover. His grip on you now was so gentle that you couldn’t help but notice. No doubt his grip would be feather-light at most for a long time to come.
✴ Weight: 67 kg or 148 pounds ✴ Height: 5 ft 7 in or 170 cm ✴ Hair Colour: Brown ✴ Eye Colour: Blue ✴ Birth Place: Glasgow, Scotland, United Kingdom ✴ Date Of Birth: April 21, 1979 ✴ Occupation: Actor ✴ Notable Works: X-Men film series, State of Play, Shameless, Frank Herbert’s Children of Dune, Bollywood Queen, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, The Last King of Scotland, Atonement, Wanted, Filth, Split, Trance