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Ta-metru_defender

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Blog Entries posted by Ta-metru_defender

  1. Ta-metru_defender

    Hey

    By Ta-metru_defender,


    blogging?
    Man, I'm realizing how much I miss these blogs. Maybe it's the impending implosion of Twitter or how Facebook's functionality has torpedoed itself into oblivion. So maybe I'll start writing here more, doing the old blogging thing used to be a thing.
     
    In the meantime, it's NaNoWrimo and I've an unhinged screed that I'm tryna turn into a proper novel.
  5. Ta-metru_defender

    High Stakes

    By Ta-metru_defender,

    Essays, Not Rants! 318: High Stakes
     
    For a reason that can be tracked back to one specific thing that won’t be discussed due to spoilers, I’m thinking a lot about stakes. There’s this idea in a lotta stories that really good stakes are “will they die?” It was Game of Thrones’ modus operandi in the early seasons, and it was the explicit reason why Chewbacca was killed in the first book of the New Jedi Order book series. The logic makes sense enough, if there’s the chance that anyone can die in any moment of peril, all of them will be high stakes. The highest of stakes.
     
    But on the flip side, constantly having high stakes like that also tends to lead to a fatigue of it all. When you’re always worried someone’s gonna die, you sometimes stop getting attached to characters. Why should I care about this new character we’ve introduced if we don’t know how long he’s gonna last? Though is that better than never worrying about your characters because there’s no way they’re gonna kill someone this important off, right? When Jack Sparrow gets eaten by the Kraken in Dead Man’s Chest, you don’t really care do you? After all, there’s a third movie coming out and you know he’ll be back. Han in Carbonite is an issue, sure, but he’s coming back for Return of The Jedi.
     
    I tend to disagree. Knowing that someone survives, or someone having plot armor, doesn’t necessarily mean you stop caring for lack of stakes. There’s a bunch of fun in finding out how someone survives. Like in Return of The Jedi we know that Luke and Han aren’t gonna be eaten by the Sarlaac. But it’s still exciting because we wanna see them get out of the pickle. The question of suspense, y’know, the element that keeps us invested, isn’t "will they die?" but instead "how will they survive?"
     
    When done well, the question of 'how?' can be a really interesting one. When Buffy dies in season finale of the fifth season of, well, Buffy (oh, spoiler alert) there’s no question that she’ll be back in season six. After all, she’s the titular character. The question is how will she come back — and what will the ramifications of that be?
     
    I think these days, with stories like Lost and Game of Thrones big in the public consciousness, we can conflate the willingness of a story to kill of its characters with its quality. There’s a general animus towards fake-out deaths (like Jack in Dead Man’s Chest or, more recently, Wolverine in the comics), because why give us all that drama over a death that won’t stick? Why fear for a character’s life when we know they won’t die?
     
    So again, I come back ton the question of how. The creation of an unwindable situation creates a narrative need for an ingenious way out. If the catharsis is to come, and in a good story the catharsis must be earned, then the way out’s gotta be a good one. Circling back to Jedi, the plan to escape Jabba’s clutches is so outlandish and unpredictable that it’s so much fun to see them escape. It doesn’t undo the drama of Han’s carbonite freezing detour; it’s another fun twist to the plot, another complication for the heroes to figure out. There’s a fun to it that’s a really good addition.
     
    Like I said, I’m thinking about stakes and the cliffhanging suspense that goes with it. I don’t think knowing that things have to turn out alright, be it due to announced sequels or even the conventions of the medium makes things less dramatic or less fun. I really enjoy the romantic fun of finding out how protagonists escape from a situation. The trick is, I figure, to make the resolution interesting and not making it feel like a cop out. It’s the how that makes it interesting, so making the how count is what matters.
  7. Ta-metru_defender
    Essays, Not Rants! 334: Hogwarts Housing
     
    I’ve been on a bit of a Harry Potter kick lately. One reason is that LEGO revived the sets based on the movies so I’ve been seeing a lot of it at work. Another is that my girlfriend’s parents got us tickets to see Cursed Child (which is amazing) so there’s that too.
     
    Having recalled that J.K. Rowling detailed a magic school based in the US — Ilvermorny — some time ago, and that she described the houses in that school into which students were sorted, I decided to look up what those houses were and what they represented. Frustratingly, they’re pretty simplistic; one is emblematic of the scholar, one the warrior, another the adventurer, the last the healer. They’re archetypes, but almost too much so.
     
    The original four houses of Hogwarts are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house is less archetypical and more a set of traits, each with their pros and cons. Gryffindors are courageous and brave, but can be foolish and brash. Those in Slytherin are known to be willy and cunning, even to the point of being manipulative. Belonging to a Hogwarts house is less about subscribing to an archetype (scholar vs healer, or even chaotic-good vs lawful-evil), but more a question about what traits do you see in yourself and value in others. To Rowling’s credit, no house is inherently bad (even if Gryffindor gets all the good press), they’re all different facets of human nature.
     
    Sorting yourself into a house, whether it be by some handy online quiz or through your own self assessment, offers for a fun form of engagement with the Harry Potter books. No matter which house you’re in, the implication is that you’re still a student (or alumnus) of Hogwarts and thus someone with magical inclinations (and probably heroic). Within that, there is also a healthy sense of tribalism that comes from being part of a group. I’m a Gryffindor, I’m one of them, for better or worse. I’ve something of an identity there; I fit in.
     
    It’s interesting that something as 'basic' as a which of these four houses you’re in could inspire such a spirited and personal sense of belonging (just take a look at all the house swag on Etsy). It’s not nearly as in-depth as, say, an MBTI which kinda puts a pin on your personality. If anything, it’s closer to a horoscope, but not nearly as vague and as all-inclusive as to apply to anyone born within a certain timeframe. It’s still specific, but not alienating.
     
    I said before that I’m a Gryffindor (or, in the words of my girlfriend: "No, no; Gryffindor, definitely." Which isn’t to say I’m not smart, or have the capacity for cunning, or a good friend; rather that some of my more obvious traits include my tendency to rush headlong into things without thinking them through, or an innate brashness that borders on cocksureness. Some people, upon hearing this, are content to nod and tell me that, yep, that makes perfect sense. Which is fun, because, like I said, I belong somewhere.
     
    As people, we want to belong. We want to have some tribe, some home, some foundation for our identity. The fun thing about Hogwarts houses is that they offer one for you, one that’s as arbitrary as it is fictional — after all, Hogwarts doesn’t really exist and there is no real Sorting Hat to determine your friend group for your next seven books years of education. But having that House, that place of people Kinda Like You, adds to that sense of magic of the Harry Potter books. You know that if, if, that place was real, there’d be a spot for you. One which doesn’t limit you; Cedric was a loyal Hufflepuff, but also incredibly brave; Hermione a Gryffindor and still the smartest in the room. There’s still room to be yourself.
     
    I checked recently what Pottermore told me my Ilvermorny house was. Apparently I’m a Thunderbird, that is, the house of Adventurers. Which, I’m okay with. Doesn’t sound quite as fun (or as rife with potential) as a Gryffindor, but hey, I can live with it.
  8. Ta-metru_defender

    Home?

    By Ta-metru_defender,

    Currently Rocking Out To: Meant to Live, Switchfoot
    Mood: Happy?
     
    I'm writing this from the Kiosk on board the Logos II.
    To think, two years ago I thought I'd never see this place again.
     
    The Kiosk (a central room, crossroads, like a living room), along with the rest of the ship has changed.
    For starters, the Kiosk is different. The couches are gone, and the arm chairs are in their place. I'm sitting in an armchair that I've sat in countless times. The notice board is all but empty, so many things that would so often be there are gone. There's only a few people passing by... It's sooo... empty.
    Two years ago, the ship would've been sailing. A soccer ball was being kicked around by the few kids on the ship. Some of the adults watched and laughed as we chased the ball around. How did that work? What was the goal posts I can now stretch out with my arms and just about touch the sides. The ceiling is now centimeters above my head, I almost have to duck to avoid sprinklers now.
     
    Every time I step into a hallway or room I'm disorientated. Everything's off. I'm too high, the angle's wrong. I went down to the school my first day back. It's still there... But it's not the school. What had once been my classroom is now filled with boxes, I can't see the desk where I worked on the computer so many times, nor the desks where I built a castle with LEGO once with James.
    The library is full of boxes too. Gone is the TV and the numerous books, many of which I had read. The computer which Laura and I so often fought over is gone, too.
    The other class are still there, stripped of furniture. It all seems so... small... My first classroom is still there, along with my desk. I check to see if my socks that I put in there my very first day are still there. They aren't. I think I took them out when I left. I went out through the Book Hold, I walked there everyday, didn't I? Price guns are still there. The dining room is similar. All the tables in the back have been taken out, a mini-kiosk is there now. My table's gone. Ha, were it Christmas of 2003 you would've seen a trio of kids playing Ligretto until 1 in the morning. The food's the same. Believe it or not, I missed it, it tasted nice tonight. Everything looks so... Different.
    I go down to the Blue/Maroon room. The stairs are as steep as ever, hah. The door handle's lower than I remember. Ah well. The TV's missing from the Maroon as are many of the chairs. But it's the same. I remember when we spent the whole night down there. That was fun. I open the fire door down there and go up another deck. All these 'short cuts' are still there, what fun.
    I go up on top, the Fun Deck's still there. They moved the swings again, ah well. The White Box is there, the nettings there... The smaller box is there, and my fish is still there. I remember when we painted that all so long ago. The Funnel Deck somehow seems sooo low... The angles off again. Much to my surprise my old bike, the one I brought from Singapore is still in there. I wonder if anyone's used it since I left.
     
    The ship's mostly the same. I still know my way around, no problem. It doesn't feel odd walking around the ship. I don't get this rush of, "hey, I'm back". It feels... Normal, right.
    Yet it's empty. People who made the ship Home are gone. Friends, Adelaide, Andrew, Esa, Laura... It's the same old hunk of floating metal, but it dosen't quite feel like Home anymore.
     
    I still love it, anyway.
     
    *sigh*
  9. Ta-metru_defender
    Essays, Not Rants! 162: How Do You Make An Avengers?
     
    Avengers: Age of Ultron comes out here in the States in a few days, which makes me realize that we now live in a time where time can be measured in Avengers movies. Which makes me think about three years ago when I was eagerly waiting for the first one to come out.
     
    It’s important to look at just how sharply The Avengers affected the current blockbuster landscape. The idea of a bunch of characters from separate films coming together in one movie was a very novel idea, outside of maybe Alien vs Predator. Now, ever since The Avengers made approximately all the money, DC’s been working fast as they can to establish their pantheon of superheroes. Amazing Spider-Man 2 spent much of its time trying to set up as many plot points for there to be a variety of spin offs. There’s even been an attempt to revive Universal’s horror movies with the intention of having Dracula, et al team up. Ever since The Avengers proved that it works, there’s been a big push to establish these so-called shared universes.
     
    Of course, that’s missing that one of the things that made The Avengers work was that it wasn’t rushed. Marvel Studios spent five movies and four years building up their characters and their world. By the time The Avengers came out, audiences were at the very least aware of Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, and Captain America through good old pop-cultural osmosis. That done, they still took time to set up each character — including lesser known characters like Black Widow.
     
    Furthermore, Marvel Studios hired a writer/director with a reputation for being able to handle ensemble casts. Joss Whedon’s only other movie at the time, Serenity, was able to reestablish the crew of the titular ship for people who both had and hadn’t seen the show. He had a similar task in The Avengers: establish six heroes, their boss, a couple minor characters, and a villain while also weaving together a coherent plot. The Avengers worked, due in no small part to Whedon’s writing.
     
    The other thing about the shared universe concept is that it’s different from your typical movie production. There are grand story arcs that each film has to navigate around and fit in alongside. The Marvel Cinematic Universe is being run more like a television show than a typical movie series. Kevin Feige, executive producer on all Marvel Studios films, is effectively the showrunner of the series. He’s come up with the big ideas and found writers and directors to do each ‘episode.’ Once again, getting Joss Whedon onboard for the first two Avengers films made sense, most of his experience has been within the constraints of television. The Dark World was directed by someone who’d worked on Game of Thrones, and the Russo brothers, who did The Winter Soldier, directed for Arrested Development and Community. It’s also the Russo brothers who’ll be directing Civil War and Avengers: Infinity War, showing again Feige’s predisposition to those used to working in television. But this is still a novel form of filmmaking, and it’s one that Marvel’s making work.
     
    I’m as excited to see Age of Ultron as I was to see The Avengers three years ago. Of course, I’m approaching this movie from a different perspective than I did the last year. And I don’t just mean someone who now actually reads comics, either. I’ve spent the greater part of the last three years at university studying storytelling and narrative. All this to say, I’m really impressed with how Marvel’s been handling their universe. It takes a lot of work and there are a host of missteps they could have taken.
     
    So come Thursday evening I’ll be sitting in an IMAX theater in Kips Bay. I want the movie to be good, because I want to see Marvel keep expanding their movie world. That and I can’t wait for the Captain Marvel movie.
  11. Ta-metru_defender
    "Hey, wanna take over one of the study rooms and get some homework done?"
     
    "Yeah, sounds good."
     
    "Man, I've got Astronomy, Creative Writing, and a mess of reading to get through."
     
    "Try French philosophy."
     
    "Touche. Alright: Reading time!"
     
    One Hour Later...
     



     
    Because that cartoon is so much cooler than analytical papers.
     
    And probably more intelligent.
  12. Ta-metru_defender
    Essays, Not Rants! 072: Humanity, Hubris, and Canceling The Apocalypse
     
    Did you ever read The Day of the Triffids? It’s by John Wyndam and was probably the first piece of proper post-apocalyptic fiction I read ten years ago. It’s typical of the genre. We’ve got the world impairing event, the monsters that begin wiping out humanity, and of course the few survivors who band together to try and find a way to continue civilization. It’s a classic.
     
    Now, like I’ve said before, science fiction provides a great way to examine reality and the issues therein. As such, it’ll heavily reflect the world in which it was written. So let’s see what The Day of the Triffids says about culture then. It was written in 1951, six years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Post-apocalyptic fiction began to flourish then, reflecting the horrific visions of what humanity could do and how we kept looking for more ways to destroy the world. This is what happens in Triffids; nukes in space blind most of the population and genetically engineered killer plants set about, well, killing people. Humanity brought this on themselves, their hubris caused the apocalypse.
     
    We see this in more recent (post)-apocalyptic fiction too. In The Terminator we created Skynet with our computers; in The Matrix our drive to technology created The Machines and enslaved us. Within this and, yes, Day of the Triffids and countless zombie movies too, lies the implicit fear that as society delves into technology we’ll destroy ourselves. The solutions vary. InThe Terminator our heroes destroy the evil technology. The heroes of The Matrix and The Day of the Triffids find a way to overcome their creations to create a new civilization. It could be argued that it reflects some of the sentiment we find today; the world’s so screwed up the only solution is to start over.
     
    Yet the trend in recent fiction has been to focus less on the how of the apocalypse and more on the what now. We never find out what caused the fungal outbreak in The Last of Us, but we do see Joel and Ellie develop twenty years later. In Zombieland, Columbus mentions that no one knows where the zombies come from. No longer are we watching us destroy ourselves, now we’re figuring out what we’re doing in the aftermath. We see the relationships form, we see the recreation of a family. Fiction like The Last of Us and Zombieland presents a world where the protagonists are handed a lousy hand and make the most of it. Starting over may be rough, but there remains that glimmer of hope.
     
    If anything, Pacific Rim takes that conceit and fires it at other apocalyptic fiction. Suddenly, the technology classically feared is not the root of our problems but instead a savior. As protagonist Raleigh puts it early on: “You see a hurricane coming, you get out of the way. But when you’re in a Jaeger, you can finally fight the hurricane. You can win.” Today’s culture is reflected in Pacific Rim in that technology isn’t something to be feared, but something to be used. How? To fight back against what we cannot control and to become closer to one another.
     
    Pacific Rim introduces drifting, two people sharing a mind to control a Jaeger. The closer the pilots’ bond, the better they’ll fight. We love to deride the Internet and all as the death of true relationships, but Pacific Rim accepts this sort of digital connection and physicalizes it. With that, the film acknowledges the growing global identity facilitated by these connections. The heroes in Pacific Rim aren’t just all-Americans; we have an international coalition of Americans, Japanese, Australians, Russians, British, Chinese, and Idris Elba saving the world together.
     
    It all culminates with where Pacific Rim goes with its story. It doesn’t matter who you are; if you’re a self-perceived failure, an egotistical kid with daddy issues, a haunter young woman, or a research scientist you can hardly walk properly: you can save the world, you can be a rockstar. It is paramount that Pacific Rim takes place before the world ends: the protagonists refuse to accept it. When the authorities opt to cancel the resistance and to hide behind a wall instead, the heroes choose to fight on. In the traditional pre-final mission heroic speech, Stacker Pentecost declares that they will “face the monsters that are at our door and take the fight to them!”, they will stand up the end of the world because they refuse to accept that the world they’re given. We don’t need to start over from scratch, we can make a better world with what we have. Or as he says a moment later: “Today we are canceling the apocalypse!” It’s no longer important who caused the end of the world: we’re stopping it.
     
    Jon Foreman wrote a piece for the HuffingtonPost a few years ago reflecting this dream of a better world. As he says: “Against all odds, against all that we know about this world, we could choose to hope for a better one — to hope for love, for peace, for a form of contentment and solace that we have never fully realized.” Pacific Rim is saying the same thing: no matter how bleak the world may seem, we can hope to save it, to fix it. It isn’t so much that we’re no longer blaming ourselves for the world gone wrong; it’s that we know we can make it better, with or without giant robots.
     
    Though giant robots would be nice.
     
    Credit where credit is due: This sort of ‘close reading’ of Pacific Rim grew out of this Tumblr post. Jon Foreman’s column is named "What's in a Word?" and can be found on the HuffingtonPost website.
  14. Ta-metru_defender
    So NYU cancelled classes today and tomorrow. This is particularly wonderful since I'm kinda behind on my homework this weekend (A Joss Whedon Appreciation Club meeting, a swing dance party, and a spontaneous 11pm movie and walk to Times Square does that to you). So that's awesome. And because just text is boring, here is a picture of what it looks out my window.


    More on this story as it develops.


  15. Ta-metru_defender
    My ragtag band of survivors and I headed to the Kimmel building for food an laptop/phone charging. On the way we passed Washington Square Park.'
     
    Well. Wow.
     



     
    On our way back we found an open pizza store and feasted like kings. Tonight will involve poker and sacrificing someone's laptop battery for a movie.
     
    Tomorrow the ragtag band of survivors will head out into the wild.
  16. Ta-metru_defender
    Last night, the power went out.




    Shortly thereafter the Freedom Tower went out.
     
    In our dorm we have no power, no water, but we do have wifi.
     
    Planning on venturing to other NYU buildings today for charging and food.
     
    And exploration. Because this is the closest I'm coming to a post-apocalyptic scenario with an internet connection.
  17. Ta-metru_defender
    Day 4. Most of the residents of the building fled yesterday when the generator ran out of gas. Emergency power is back now, but the building is deserted. We survivors have found power and plumbing in the deserted floors beneath us. This is a luxury.
    Once more we are setting out in search of food and potential entertainment in the mysterious land known as 'Uptown'.
    Weather remains chilly, no sign of wolves.


     
    I'm really in survival mode now. My backpack has my laptop, a surge protector, and chargers for my phone and laptop in it. I've also got a pair of Field Dressings I kept from the army and a few other bits and pieces. On my belt I have my flashlight and SOG powerlock knife (both from the army). Also been wearing my boots. Man, this is the time all the army stuff comes in handy.
     
    We've begun scavenging. Sort of. The floors below ours (13th floor, man) have water (7th) or limited electricity (10th). We've been taking advantage of the latter to charge and the former to well, enjoying plumbing. Those floors are deserted so it's fair game. It's all I Am Legend up in here.
     
    My ragtag band of survivors decided to make a trek uptown. Suddenly we were surrounded by working traffic lights, lit stores, friggin' civilization.
     
    We made our way to Times Square and ate a wonderful, hot, cooked, proper, wonderful meal at a Ruby Tuesday's. Talked rubbish, chilled, and eventually headed back downtown to our dorms and NYU's campus.
     
    There's some soirée thing going on in Bobst Library, but we're just sitting around and chilling. Maybe tomorrow we'll explore more. For now, well, we can relax.
     
    Hmm.
     
    One of my professors wants us to email her our papers that were due on Monday. About that...
  19. Ta-metru_defender
    Day 3. Still no water or power on our floor. My ragtag band of survivors and I intend to head out in search of food and/or epic adventure. If we had power our movie marathon would be The Day After Tomorrow, I Am Legend, and Cloverfield in keeping with the spirit.
    Currently no sign of zombies.
    Or roommate.


     
     
    Slept good last night. In bed early, woke up late. Quite wonderful.
     
    Raymond and I headed down to Weinstein for lunch: the food was hot and wonderful. Washed up and sat around and charged our gear at the sockets for a while before heading back to our dorm.
     
    As it happens, the generator had run out of gas. The emergency lights and fire detectors were down. Worst of all, the wifi was gone. My ragtag band of survivors assembled and decided to head out. For adventure.
     
    We went to the East River Park, through Alphabet City. We passed a generator set up with a bunch of power strips on a table. There was a sign that said "Charge your phones for free. Be courteous. It'll all be over soon." The flooding in Avenue C and beyond had receded (to our relief and mild dismay) and the river looked calm.
     
    On our way back we passed by a Japanese restaurant (Rai Rai Ken) and a man came out motioning us towards the store and saying food.
     
    Free food.
     
    Another man came out with a tray with five plates of noodles and shrimp! We each took one (and a pair of chopsticks) and thanked him profusely. The food was good. So good. Never mind that hot food was hard to come by, it was good. We are going back when life returns to normal.
     
    But man. Funny how disasters work, huh?
     
    And since I've been posting a picture a day, here's me and my mad skills on a swing in the East River Park Playground:
     




  20. Ta-metru_defender
    Day Five. Still waiting for power on our floor, but we're comfortable in our scavenging. The flights of stairs are slowly wearing on us.
    My ragtag band of survivors have decided to venture downtown.
    No sign of strange alien monsters


     
    I took a warm shower this morning at the NYU gym near my dorm. And hey, I will take communal showers if it means warm water.
    One of my ragtag band of survivors was called home to Philly, so I walked her halfway to Penn Station (or at least to where there were working traffic lights).
     
    Down to four, we once again headed to Weinstein for food. But wait! Courtesy of funding from JetBlue, a trio of foodtrucks were offering free food. Which is a particularly wonderful sort of food.
     
    Armed with shawarma (mine), waffles, and dumplings, we charged up at Weinstein then headed downtown.
     
    Now, this is where the damage is still felt. Where power is still being restored and civilization is still yet to return. These streets are empty. SoHo is deserted.
     
     
     




     
    Empty.
     
    Chinatown had a bit more life and further downtown there were some people sightseeing and people cleaning up. We decided to really go all I Am Legend on this and hit up the South Street Seaport. So we did, looked around, admired the Brooklyn Bridge and all.
     

     
    Sightseeing done, we trekked back uptown to campus for dinner and a stand up comedy show NYU had orgainized for us.
     
    But the real delight came when we finally made our way back to the dorms.
     
    The lights were on.
  23. Ta-metru_defender
    It seemed liked the logical thing to do (especially in light of a recent online purchase):
     

    Apologies for the overexposed picture, I snapped it with my phone and didn't feel like setting up lights.
     
    I think I'm gonna build a truck tomorrow...
  24. Ta-metru_defender
    Essays, Not Rants! 095: I didn’t get Blue Is the Warmest Color
     
    There. I said it.
     
    A lot of press surrounds Blue Is the Warmest Color for one reason or another, and with it winning a bunch of awards and ranking on some year end movie lists, I decided to see what all the fuss was about.
     
    Long story short, I wasn’t a huge fan. Short story long, well, that’s what the rest of the post is for.
     
    The concept seems interesting enough; we follow Adèle and the ups and downs of first love in her relationship with Emma. It’s something we’ve seen before, this time in a lesbian context. So far so good, but things fall apart when the concept leaves the paper and gets on screen.
     
    Blue Is the Warmest Color is visually dull. Sure, there’s a lot of blue in the beginning, but it’s there almost indiscriminately (rather than in a way that would relate to Emma and her blue hair). The camera angles are repetitive; it’s the same medium close-ups and close-ups over and over again with framing just a little too tight. It wouldn’t be so bad were it not used for the majority of interactions. But then, maybe that serves the story. There’s little attempt to beautify the action. When Adèle eats it’s messy and pasta sauce dribbles down her chin; crying in the movie is snotty and unattractive; and dialogue is (at least translated) to sound banal at times.
     
    So it could be then argued that the film wants to discard the hyperrealism so frequently found in ‘normal’ film, and this supposedly honest look at a relationship will be shot accordingly. Basically, the antithesis of (500) Days Of Summer, which, like Blue Is the Warmest Color, was more of a story about love than love story, except this time rather than seeing things through Tom’s hyperrealistic, romanticized point of view it’s told ‘realistically.’ Cool.
     
    Only all that is thrown out the window when it comes to those scenes. Y'know the source of half the film’s press and, arguably, a large amount of its problems. Now, they’re shot in that same non-hyperrealistic way as the rest of the film: the lighting is stark and harsh and there’s no sweeping romantic soundtrack in the background. Yet it lacks a sort of emotional honesty. There’s no prelude to any of Adèle and Emma’s scenes and, barring the third, there’s nothing of pillow talk. They just happen.
     
    Granted, this is hardly unique to Warmest Color, but it struck me as jarring that a film that focuses so heavily on relationships would have this be so abrupt. Worsening them is the lack of character showing through in the scenes. There’s no dialogue between Adèle and Emma nor attempt for their relationship (beyond the obvious) to show through their actions, it simply transpires as a sort of pseudo-pornography devoid of personality.
     
    But then personality isn’t something the film thrives on either. Emma, the focus of Adèle’s affections, comes off as just another, albeit lesbian, Manic Pixie Dream Girl. It’s when Emma enters the story that Adèle is brought out of her unsatisfactory heteronormativity into a more interesting life. She’s quirky, she’s an artist, she’s different, and she has blue hair makes her stand out, especially when juxtaposed with Adèle’s bland surroundings. Now, Emma is by no means the worst offender, Adèle does not achieve a ‘happily every after’ through her and Emma has a measure of an inner life (though it is still primarily defined more by outlying qualifiers [her job, class, sexuality] than her own personality), yet she still plays the part. That aspect of their relationship feels like something we’ve seen dozens of times before. Adéle’s character suffers in a similar way; she feels defined more strongly by her nature as bookish, working-class teacher than by some of her other traits.
     
    Not to say it’s all bad. There’s a fight between Adèle and Emma towards the end that is powerfully acted and genuinely compelling. For me it was the first time I suddenly felt myself really caring about their relationship and it became painful to watch, in a good way. The film does have its moments of excellence, it’s just bogged down in all the rest.
     
    Which then confuses me as to why its receiving all those accolades. Now, I’m aware I’m someone who tends to harp on the idea of ‘high art,” but I found the only thing truly remarkable about Blue Is the Warmest Color to be its frank approach to LGBTQ themes. Have it be about a heterosexual relationship and it’d be all-but-mediocre.
     
    It’s not enough to praise a movie simply because it features an LGBTQ romance at its center. It’s the same problem I have with Christian films or some approaches to women protagonists. As much as I’d like to see a good LGBTQ film, I can’t bring myself to just give it an A-for-effort. So yeah. I didn’t get Blue Is the Warmest Color when I watched it and, given its overlong three hour runtime, don’t much feel like trying again.
     
    Writer’s note: Look, I just didn’t get it. Maybe if someone broke it down bit for bit and explained just why it was so great, sure. But ‘til then, I don’t understand the fuss.
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