pretty decent movie

Movies Bloodborne fans should watch: (if you ask me :P)
  • Brotherhood of the Wolf (French movie about the Beast of Gévaudan. Bloodborne’s fashion is most likely inspired by its beautiful costumes.)
  • Bram Stoker’s Dracula (Cainhurst? Cainhurst. Cheesy at times.)
  • Crimson Peak (Gothic romance at its finest.)
  • Hellboy 1 / 2 - The Golden Army (Just watch the two movies, okay? SO GOOD.)
  • Van Helsing (yeah yeah, I know this one isn’t that great. WHO CARES! harmless fun with crazy weaponry and big monsters.)
  • Mary Reilly (the classic tale of Dr.Jekyll & Mr.Hyde seen from the point of view of Jekyll’s housemaid who, obviously, has a crush on him. )
  • From Hell (Jack the Ripper. Johnny Depp, Alan Moore, lots of drugs.)
  • The Whisperer in the Darkness (The best adaptation of Lovecraft’s story of the same name.)
  • Red Riding Hood (this movie gets all the hate just because it has the same director as Twilight but is a pretty decent movie with great atmosphere and a nice twist near the end. It’s not that easy to figure out who’s the wolf! My only complaint about this flick is that the actors are waaaay too attractive in pure young-adult romance fashion. Still worth a watch.)
  • Tenshi no Tamago (aka Angel’s Egg. Weird, visually stunning, very esoteric and reminds me a ton of Fishing Hamlet for some reason. The plot is cryptic and mysterious, just like Bloodborne’s.)
  • The Company of Wolves (a weird classic based upon Angela Carter’s dark fairytales ~♡)
  • Pride, Prejudice and Zombies (It’s better than you think.)
  • Goya’s Ghosts (SPANISH INQUISITION! Heresy! Torture! Drama! Doesn’t “look” like Bloodborne, but the themes are there and is overall a good historical movie with great actors.)
  • Penny Dreadful (TV series. This one is a mixed bag for me, but the photography is stunning and Victorian to the core. Rushed ending tho. And a lot of gratuitous sex scenes that don’t go anywhere. I warned you.)
  • Taboo (TV series. PRETTY NICE)
  • Hellsing Ultimate (Anime OVA which needs no introduction.)


Overall, a pretty decent, fun movie (accurate comparison to the Bond franchise is accurate) but not without its problems.

Things I enjoyed:
– Lorraine’s nudity was pretty non sexual. We did not get lingering shots or panning across her naked body.
– she got to make lots of really fucking ugly noises while fighting. Theron continues to be a really kick ass action star.
– no male gaze!
– Lorraine was never a damsel in distress I’m and scene whatsoever.
– she’s bisexual and the only relationship we get any info on at all is her relationship with Delphine Lasalle. Lorraine is implied to have gotten more attached than she meant to and their scenes (outside of the first three, I think) are affectionate and gentle.
– Also, their sex scene was not creepy in the way W/W scenes filmed for the male gaze often are. It pleased my queer little heart. There is plenty of post coital cuddling.
– great score! Beautifully shot with some awesome cuts.

– really, really white. Sofia Boutella (Delphine) is the only person of color that I recall in the movie
She’s important to the film, but could we have gotten more? (Please don’t argue with me about it being set in Berlin and London - both diverse places – they could have found a way to have more diversity, even with a small cast like this).
– Delphine gets fridged. That wasn’t necessary. Lorraine has plenty of motivation to kill David without having to kill her.


Why Me? Part 3

here’s the third part of my series. enjoy my fine furry friends (:

You jerked up your phone and called Hotch. Daniel Turner had to be your guy. You wished so badly that Spencer was there with you. If he were there, he would have figured everything out way before you did.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” you heard Penelope ask from the other room. You rubbed at your wrists and flicked around the rubber band that sat on it.

“Yeah. I’m fine, Pen.” you said, trying to hide your pain. When Hotch finally answered, you explained the situation, gave the work and home addresses, and any other helpful information you had on him. You hung up afterwards, not wanting to linger on the call for too long.

"Oh, (Y/N).” you heard Penelope groan in disappointment. You jumped up and ran into her room where she sat, at her computer, with her head in her hands. On her screen were thousands of pictures, articles, diagrams. All of Spencer.

"Daniel had apparently been planning to assassinate Spencer ever since Maeve’s case. He has plans, photos, everything ordered out. He was ready to wipe him out, whenever and wherever. He was waiting for the perfect time.” she said as her voice began to quiver. You felt your eyes begin to tear up. You quietly stood up and went to the bathroom to regain composure. You grabbed at the rubber band and began to vigorously flick it against your skin. It was all the relief you could get. It got out your anger, sadness, and frustration.

Your phone began to ring. It was Derek.

"Hello?” you said, voice shaking.

"Hey, pretty thing. We got Daniel. He was hiding out in his basement. There were bomb prototypes and plans of destruction, but I’ll tell you one thing. He is going to be behind bars for a long time. It’s over.” he said in a reassuringly. You let out a small cry. It was over.

"Thank you.” you said as you hung up.

You were so angry and hurt. Why would anyone do this? A text binged on your phone. It was from Emily. It said that her and JJ would be over in a little while for a ‘Girl’s Night In’. You didn’t want it. You wanted Spencer, but he was gone. You figured a little fun wouldn’t hurt. You got in the shower and cleaned off the grime that had been building up for days. You began to cry, hoping the shower would muffle the sound. You were in the shower for a long time, but most of it was spent crying.

When you got out, you felt new. As if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You slipped on some leggings and a big, lavender sweatshirt, which was Spencer’s favorite. You shed a small smile at the thought. Spencer loved the color purple. You fumbled at the rubber band again. Every thought about him stung your heart. The girls waltzed in at about 7pm with popcorn, soda, movies, fuzzy socks, nail polish, and makeup.

"I thought maybe we could have a little bit of fun tonight… almost like we’re teens again.” JJ said with a small laugh. You all curled up on the couch and watched some pretty decent movies, ate popcorn, drank soda, and did each other’s makeup and nails. It was a great time. They all ended up staying over, except for JJ because she had to get home to her kids.

When you woke up, Penelope had made breakfast and Emily was already sitting at the table eating. You checked your phone, one notification. It was from Hotch. He said that he needed to see you at the office at 9am and that there was something he needed to tell you. Your heart fell. You got a strange and excited feeling. What was he going to tell you?

Originally posted by caryled

Originally posted by leeloothealien

anonymous asked:

44 (I dont know why im crying) please!

A/N: got damn you guys are quick

Your fingers run softly through the mess of blue hair resting on your lap as the two of you lounge comfortably on the couch, both staring at the TV screen in front of you. Strangely, 2D didn’t insist on watching a horror film that night, which worried you a bit. He seemed rather spacey and distant all day but brushed off your concern every time you asked him if he was okay. So, instead the two of you settled on watching what was left of The Graduate before you would head off to bed. You sighed tiredly, and rest your cheek in your hand as your arm lay comfortably on the arm rest on your side. The movie was nearly over, Elaine and Ben had just taken their seats on the bus and you let your eyes droop a bit, having seen the film already on more than one occasion. You were slightly dozing off until a small, warm wetness on your right thigh caught your attention. You looked down, leaning forward a bit and saw 2D staring with wide, glossy eyes at the movie. 


He doesn't answer.

You grab the remote and turn off the film, sitting up. “Stuart,” you say anxiously. He sits up too, holding a hand over his face, closing his eyes. Your hand instinctively rubs small circles on his back as you sit next to him. “Why are you crying?”

He doesn’t answer immediately and stays in that position for a few minutes before sighing, “…I don’t know,” he says quietly.

You don’t pry or ask any questions that might further upset him so you settle on something safer instead, “Bad movie?” 

He opens his mouth to speak but hesitates a bit, “Y-yeah, it’s just… Don’t worry about it. I’m just being- Uh… l-let’s go to bed.” He sniffs hard before getting up from the couch to walk into his bedroom. You follow him and lay down on the bed next to him. Your hand instinctively reaches to touch him but he doesn’t react to your touch. Your chest feels uncomfortably tight, and you can’t help but feel uneasy but you understand pushing him further might just make the situation worse.

Unknown to you, 2D lays on his side with blank eyes staring at the damaged wall until he eventually falls into a dreamless sleep.

i’m really cheesy

oh, the graduate is a pretty decent movie, the ending is really iconic too, i tried not to spoil too much.

I’ve had this idea for a horror movie floating around in my head all day and I need to get it out before I forget it.

Opens up like your typical kidnap and torture story. Most of the movie isn’t particularly original. Killer going through the house, chasing these people down killing them with traps and weapons. Not a super collected killer or anything, they fuck up, the yell when they’re hurt, they hide to bandage their wounds.

The people end up in a secret torture-like basement where the killer does all their deeds. The killer finishes the job, killing off the rest of the people in the house.

The killer goes stumbling around the torture basement to a room with someone strapped to a bed/chair/whatever. They start to unstrap the person, take off their blindfold.

The captive starts crying and hugs them.

Turns out the killer was just one really badass survivor.

The people they were killing were their captors. The person has no real special training or anything, they’re not overly muscular or fit, but they’re determined to fucking live and save their friend/SO/whatever.

As the two hug it plays out showing how this person got free the first time, shows key points in the movie from their perspective.

Both of them get out hurt, but okay.

Roll credits.

Has this shit been done before and if so what is it called so I can watch it?


I cannot stress enough that two time Tony Award Winner Andrea Martin played the villain in Barbie as the Island Princess and she sang a weirdly dark song to her pet rats (one of whom is a mime) about how she married an old man with a heart condition for money and in no uncertain terms intends to murder the ruling family.

anonymous asked:

All I remember abt the interactive thing in fd3 was the one guy who you couldn't save, but if you jumped one way his last act would be to flip off death

I know exactly who you’re talking about and I can tell you that that scene was actually the quote unquote ‘canon’ death scene in the movie. And it’s great.

Why I Used to Hate Mr. Miyagi

Before I explain my rather complicated relationship with Daniel’s friend, protector, and mentor, a little bit of background: I am the son of a 1st generation Chinese-American man and a white American woman. I grew up in the suburbs of Detroit in the ‘90s. I was originally, like any kid, a HUGE fan of The Karate Kid. Despite being born and raised in my small town, I related to Daniel’s outsider status in Reseda. I loved when Mr. Miyagi kicked the shit out of the Cobra Kai kids. My parents even bought me the exact same bandanna that Mr. Miyagi gave Daniel. The movie spurred a conversation with my parents about the Japanese Internment Camps during WWII. All in all, I guess you could say I was a fan.

I can remember the exact moment I started to despise Pat Morita’s character. My family, like all American families would frequent the local ice cream stand during the summer. Called Bobjoes, this particular stand sold soft serve custards and even had the very dope, very delicious chocolate dipped shells. I was fascinated how ice cream could be dipped into what seemed to be hot chocolate but instead of melting came out with a tasty, crispy chocolate shell. I can remember every detail of Bobjoes, the faded facade, the cracked asphalt of the parking lot, the mismatched picnic tables out front. The first few trips to Bobjoes were relatively uneventful, save for the chocolate shell revelation. My sister and I loved Bobjoes. It was a special treat. One which we begged our parents for at every opportunity.

One summer night, my family piled into our forest green Aerostar van and headed to Bobjoes. There was a particularly long line. I remember we queued up and within five minutes I sensed my parents grow physically tense. I followed my mother’s gaze as she stared at a group of teenagers pantomiming the “wax on, wax off” technique from The Karate Kid as they snickered and nodded towards my dad. Before I could register what was happening, a man walked over to us and without introduction or explanation simply shoved his finger into my dad’s face and bluntly asked, “You know who you look like?” I looked up at my dad and I could see the blood rush to his face. He forced a smile and said, “No, who?” while my mother looked on in what I can only describe as a combination of pure horror, embarrassment, and helplessness. The man, undaunted, repeated his question, this time with incredulity, “You mean to tell me no one has told you who you look like? You look exactly like him.” My dad refused to play, he simply shrugged his shoulders as everyone in line started to notice this exchange. Finally, frustrated, the man blurted it out, “You look exactly like Mr. Miyagi! Teach me karate, you know wax on wax off, Daniel-san,” as he said this he affected the accent every Asian and Hapa kid has had to endure from mocking racists while he moved his fingers like chopsticks, catching imaginary flies. I thought someone would say something. My dad doesn’t look anything like Mr. Miyagi. I mean, they’re both Asian, my dad did have similar facial hair, but at the time he couldn’t have been older than his early thirties. In my head, Mister Miyagi was like, 80 years old. Instead of objecting or simply looking away, several more adults chimed in, echoing how uncanny the resemblance was. To his credit my dad stayed cool and said he’d never heard that before. Thankfully before anything more could happen it was our turn to order. It was the first time we ate our giant chocolate shelled ice creams in the car. The ride home was silent save for the occasional crack of a cone.

Growing up in the town I did, I was used to women almost constantly asking my anglo mother where she got my browner sister and I. She’d always say, “I gave birth to them, same as your kids.” I remember asking my mom what these women meant and she’d tersely respond, “They think you and your sister are adopted.” Often times the women would follow up with, “Oh…where did you meet your husband?” To which my mom would retort, “At law school.” I was used to kids and teachers asking where I was “from from.” Repeating, “Trenton, just like you.” Until I finally realized they wanted to know I was Chinese. I was used to the local bully calling me a chink and my teachers confusing me with the only other Asian boy in the entire elementary school despite him being a year older than me. But for some reason I didn’t put it together that my dad would experience the same shit. Until that night.

When we got home, my dad and I had the talk. Not about sex, but about how it feels when someone calls you a chink. Or makes fun of the way my grandma speaks English. Or why people think all Asians look alike. He told me that my anger and frustration was natural but to always stand up for myself. He told me if we didn’t do something about it, they’d just do it again to someone else.

After that incident it seemed liked everyone in the Metro Detroit area wanted to tell my family how much my dad looked like Mr. Miyagi. And it seemed to happen with the most frequency while waiting in line for our favorite ice cream. I started to loathe groups of white teenage boys because I knew it was only a matter of time before they would say just loudly enough for my dad to hear, “Wax on Daniel-san,” or simply mocked our language by repeating “ching chang bing bang” in the painfully too familiar sing-song cadence. My dad never ignored them. He would confront them and if nearby, their parents, challenging them to say it louder, to say it to his face. Almost always the teenagers would recoil and protest that he should be able to take a joke. The confrontations in public would leave everyone around uncomfortably silent, staring as my dad demanded an apology.

This routine became so common that I began to weigh the pros and cons of even going to Bobjoes. The ice cream was fucking delicious but it was beginning to feel like some soft serve really wasn’t worth all this bullshit. I stopped asking if we could go, professing that I preferred the ice cream we could buy at the grocery store. But much to my chagrin my parents would all but insist that we go to Bobjoes. I couldn’t understand why my dad was such a glutton for punishment.

I hated the confrontations, I hated the teenagers, I hated the men who would try and force my dad to admit he looked like Mr. Miyagi. I hated the bystanders who looked on and never said anything. I grew to hate Bobjoes and I grew to hate Mr. Miyagi and the man who played him, Pat Morita.

The Mr. Miyagi comparisons never stopped. To this day it happens. And to this day I seethe with an anger that I can barely control. I hated that people would remark with surprise that my dad didn’t have an accent despite their knowledge that he was born on the east side of Detroit. My dad told me that Pat Morita didn’t really have an accent either, that he was simply playing a character in the movie. Which incensed me. Why didn’t he just speak the way he normally spoke? Why did he take this role? How could he not realize that white america would just see other Asian men and conflate the character with them? Was he aware that he’s the reason people felt comfortable adopting racist accents in order to mock us? I stopped watchingThe Karate Kid. I shoved the bandanna deep into a drawer and loudly proclaimed that I hated that movie. In high school and college I would talk about how it was the equivalent of yellow face. That he set back Asian Americans by taking that role. That I understood why he took the role (money) but that I wished he hadn’t.

It took several years, maybe even a decade before I revisited The Karate Kid.I watched it as an adult and I realized that it’s a pretty decent movie. The relationship between Daniel and Miyagi seems unique and genuine. The story, while a bit trite, holds up with any contemporary high school underdog sports movie. Roger Ebert named it one of the best films of the year when it was released. I realized my anger was misplaced.

Mr. Miyagi might be problematic, but he wasn’t Long Duk Dong. His appearances in scenes weren’t paired inexplicably with a non-diegetic gong like the racist character John Hughes created. I realized that neither Morita nor The Karate Kid were the source of the stares and mocking and racism my family experienced. I had lived and learned enough to know that these were and are systemic problems. Problems that existed long before Daniel moved to Reseda and will stay long after Pat Morita’s character is forgotten.

I don’t hate Mr. Miyagi anymore. I like the movie. I realize now that by insisting that we still went to Bobjoes my dad was helping us fight the racism. It was his way of not allowing them to win. That waiting in line for a mountain of chocolate and vanilla twist ice cream was our karate tournament and those ignorant motherfuckers in line were our Cobra Kai. Fuck them. We wanted our ice cream and we weren’t going to let them keep us from enjoying it. We never ate our ice cream in the car again.

On reflex I still often cringe inwardly whenever I hear an Asian accent in a movie or television show. I pause when comedians who are the children of immigrants use an accent when telling jokes that involve their parents or relatives. I fear that it makes non-Asians feel comfortable in adopting the same caricaturish accents. I dread the “but you laugh when Margaret Cho does it,” conversations that inevitably ensue when I correct them. But just like my family gathered around the TV to watch every single episode of All American Girl, my family will watch Fresh Off the Boat, an ABC sitcom based on Eddie Huang’s memoir. I love how Huang has cut off criticism of the show’s title. Pushing back against an Entertainment Tonight reporter who questioned whether the use of the title on such a prominent network show may lead to non-immigrants using the term more freely, Huang asserted that non-Asians and non-immigrants should not and can not use the term and further,

“ I refuse to allow the dominant culture to limit the words that I can use just because I’m afraid of them using it…”

FUCK YEAH. Nobody’s going to stop me from enjoying the ice cream I want. Nobody’s going to stop me from loving the movies I do. Shout out to Eddie Huang and shout out to all my Asian and Hapa fam. We’re here and if you ever tell me my dad looks like Mr. Miyagi I’ll slap you so fucking hard you’ll wish all I did was sweep the leg.

Antman review

So Antman was a pretty decent movie. I enjoyed it and nothing really offended me so woohoo.
Anyways, I was thinking that the real issue with the movie is still a lack of female representation. There were 3 women in the entire film: Peggy Carter in the first minute or two being a side character, the mother of Scott’s daughter Cassie, and Hope Pym, Hank’s daughter. Clearly, everyone but Peggy is known simply as who they are in relation to an on screen male which is problematic,  but not what I wanted to discuss.
What bothered me was Hank Pym as a character. His existence as alive in the MCU is silly. They already erased his importance by giving the building of Ultron to Bruce and Tony. So why was he even necessary? To introduce the new Antman? Who could have been way more useful? Janet Van Dyne.
The could have cleaned up so many parts that have been problematic that way. Toss in a few lines about how she was friends with Peggy and Howard Stark, and new Nick Fury in his early years and discussed the idea for the Avengers. Done.
But this is a movie about Scott Lang, not the Wasp.  I get that. But it was also a movie about Hank Pym, a genius abusive asshole. So we want an older generation though to explain why Scott Lang is the new Antman? Have Janet there to say, “I want you to continue the Antman. My husband was a brilliant man, but there was darkness in him. I dont see that darkness in you.” Ta da, fixes that issue, while giving a nod to Hank. It would have been so much easier having Pym be dead instead of Janet. And more fitting for canon.
But who on earth would play Janet? We want her to be older so she can be excused for not being in the Avengers without the drama, blah blah blah. Easy. Judy Dench would be amazing.Or, if Hollywood is too scared of actually casting an older actress, give Evangeline Lily a gray wig and call it good. She has the right features for Janet too.
Honestly, is it that scary of an idea to give a women a role of power in one of these films? One where she can stand on her own two feet and not be seen entirely in how she relates to a man? The Wasp was powerful in her own right, outside of Hank Pym. He could have easily have been a side note. I wish he was.

I'm watching this movie called "the den"

Basically it’s a pretty decent horror movie about a girl who meets this person online and he turns out to be in like this psycho killer cult thingy. And I’m just saying. If any of yall turn out to be psycho killers. I’m gonna me pretty pissed.

Phone went off and woke me up from this scary dream but it was super cinematic so it was like watching a pretty decent horror movie and I’m kinda disappointed.