Lovesick Raiders

Hello nieces, nephews, and starshines in between! Today, I've a video to show you!

Do you know when sometimes, a piece of music fits a clip from a film so well it seemed almost meant to be? This was one such occasion!

A musician by the name of Frank Ifield covered Hank Williams' Lovesick Blues--quite terribly, I might add--in the mid 1960's. When I heard the song, I felt it would be, oddly enough, suited towards a fight or shootout scene in a film.

I promptly thought of the Fight for the Medallion from Steven Spielberg's (perfect) film, Raiders of the Lost ark!

After some fudging about and finding the right timing, I put this together! I present to you; Lovesick Raiders!

- The Songbird

Picture Prompt: Steorra (Art: Immortal Hecate by Vetyr)

Between all of the cursed powers of Hell and true cosmic divinity was Steorra, balanced blissfully in a truly unique position. Once upon a time, not long ago, young Steorra felt displaced, as though she did not belong anywhere in the world of human beings. Not that she did not care for them. In fact, quite the contrary. She cared deeply for people, for animals, for nature. She was a kind soul, truly. Wounded, yes, but kind nonetheless. Yet despite her close love of the world around her, she still found herself several degrees separated from that which she wished to partake in. Something was wrong. And as she got older, that feeling only grew worse. Something grew deeply, truly wrong. She took the initiative for herself and sought balance. 

On the day of her 14th birthday, this balance was partly attained through a sort of celestial witchcraft. She was drawn to it, fascinated by it. Nobody believed in it, of course, but she cared not. It helped her greatly. She was amazed by the power it granted her over herself, the connection it finally gave her with the world she'd been separate from for so long. However, within her, a door was opened wide, wide enough to let something else in. Something dark. Upon her 16th birthday, she found a demon stood above her as she lay in bed. She knew he was that which was wrong within her all her life.  She realized the shape of the shadow cast over her whole life. This demon wanted her, wanted the power she had in her long before she explored her unique form of witchcraft. 

He told her he would return to her upon the full moon, in one week. She realized that she was not given her power. She realized its dark mirror resided within her, waiting to bloom forth and wreak havoc upon humans. She would not let this happen. It was here she realized that she would have to fight for her soul. She studied the darkness, studied deeply the damnation before her as she continued to practice her salvation. Once more, balance became her priority, balance between eternity and infinity. She learned both sides of herself, the luminance and the black alike, learned them well enough to resist the temptation. She was finally at peace with herself; no demon nor unholy spirit would wrest her contentment from her grasp. Nothing in this world would bring her back to such a poor state. 

She worked almost ceaselessly, every chance she would get. She studied to the last moment, consequences for the outside world be damned. Soon, the time came. The week had passed. The clouds revealed the beaming moonlight, a portent of demonic fate. Not far from Steorra's front door was the demon. Steorra crossed her arms, clenching her fists, and stepped towards the demon, who attempted to pull her toward him, toward damnation. She repelled this magnetic force violently, pushing him down. He stood back up, attempting to do the same once more. And once more did she retaliate similarly. He stood again, conjuring flame, hurling it her way to knock her down. Her ability to repulse what he'd cast grew only stronger as the conflict pushed on. He snarled, summoning true hellfire, a deep blue flame. She shouted violently, holding it at bay. She took deep breaths, shuddering as she glared upward at the foul thing hoping to claim her soul.

Closing her eyes, Steorra gathered the purest of energies from within her spirit, the flame he spat out at her glowing brighter from within, slowly turning white, along with her now-glowing eyes. The flame grew highlighted by a veritable rainbow of colors, focusing the world's energy from around her into this formerly demonic fire. She grinned broadly; she'd earned her contentment. She forced the flame back at him into a widespread field, leaving the demon no room to escape. He made naught a sound as he blew apart into ash, gliding away on the forceful winds gathered by this brief encounter. Steorra sighed; for the first time in her life, she felt some form of genuine stability. Something was finally right. Her power would only grow from then on. And so would her happiness.

- Evelyn Raczynski

Picture Prompt: The Return of a Traitor (Art: Desert Dragon: Take by VRSK1)

Sasha gazed upon the television, a rare sight; only on occasion did she ever partake in even glancing towards the news. 

Not to be rude, but she cared very little for the human political climate and held no interest in occupying mental space with the madness of the modern world. There were two circumstances that would pull her eye; global war and exposure. It seemed the two were dawning hand in hand. She witnessed the scene; a dragon as large as her own natural state, black as a starless, hopeless night. 

A dragon barreling through trucks, shot at with large mounted guns. She knew they'd do nothing. She recognized this beast. The former leader of her royal guard; she who manipulated her beloved husband into believing that Sasha was to betray the kingdom. She who claimed the throne and exiled Sasha to Earth. 

The Great Exposure had already spiraled the world into chaos. And here she was, without her own royal guard, without the citizens of Sasha's once-great kingdom by her side. Why was she here? Was she too exiled by another who had betrayed her? It wasn't out of the field of imagination. Now, Sasha needed answers. "I am going out," she told Nancy. "I've business to attend to." 

- Evelyn Raczynski

Picture Prompt: In Need of a Friend (Art by: Unknown)

Liz was lonely in her youth, isolated from people for most of her life, deemed a sort of threat to most others by her disastrous figure of a mother, who did not understand her in any meaningful way. The young lady was a genius, apart from all others. Through an intricate understanding of both magic and science, she was capable of anything and everything, it seemed. More than anything, though, she wanted a friend. So she decided to make one. It took no small amount of stolen material from the attic to start work on her new companion. It took no small amount of time, over a year and a half to construct him. It took no small amount of blood, sweat, and back-breaking work, for tears were of no use in Liz's world. 

After all of this time and all of this struggle, she found herself with a quite sleek new buddy with a sort of bulb-shaped screen for a head. Finding him unfinished in this naked form, she dressed him up in an  Halloween outfit she'd made for herself last year, when she'd hoped she would be let out of her smallish corner of this dusty old house she could by no means call a home. She held up a remote she'd made out of a old broken light switch from the basement that had been replaced for some time, pinching the toggle between her fingers. 

Flipping it to "on," the screen-for-a-face flickered on, an impression of a simple, smiling face lighting up across it. "Hello," he said warmly. "Are you my creator?" 

Liz nodded excitedly. "Yes! Yes, I am!" 

"What is your name?" he asked, tilting his head. 

"I'm Lizzie. Lizzie Sanders."

- Evelyn Raczynski

Drabble: Jenny Everywhere - Dumpster Diving

Megan Garcia looked up to see Jenny's head--goggles fastened and cigarette dangling out of the side of her mouth--darting up out of the large dumpster. She couldn't see Jenny's eyes but she knew the wild glint in her stare shining from behind her eye-wear. "What exactly do you get out of this, Jen?"

"I get stuff, duh," she said. Again, Megan just knew how Jenny's eyes rolled behind those dark goggles of hers. 

Jenny saw beauty and brilliance alike in all the things left behind by the world. Every day was a new adventure, every day was some new story yet untold. She wasn't one to sit still for very long, if at all. Between her insatiable curiosity and her unstoppable drive for exploration, she'd earned a name around town, a name of simultaneous praise and derision; Jenny Everywhere. 

In true Jenny fashion, she loved the name and embraced it wholly.

"And what, exactly, will you be doing with this stuff?"

"I'll keep it! The stuff I snatch up... it's all worth something!"

"What, you hope to sell this stuff?"

Jenny smirked like a hoarding goblin, deeply in love with their belongings. "No, I'm not talking about dollar value, Megan! I'm talking about another kind of worth. It's not just junk! It's like me... forgotten."

"You're not forgotten."

Her smirk faltered in the space of a split-second, reinforced in even less time. She giggled quietly. "Well... either way, it's all worth so much more than people seem to believe." She held up a twist pen, twisting the nib up. "See that? I love these kinds of pens. Way more refined than those little click-clicks!" 

Jenny shoved the pen away in her satchel, giggling once more. 

Megan knew quite well her friend was slightly mad. In fact "slightly" may very well have been an understatement, not that she could know the difference. Jenny kept a cool enough head, able to maintain conversation, as well as her inhibitions. Megan could over look some of her stronger... quirks. 

"Ooh! Someone dropped a 20 in here!" She bent down into the trash receptacle and stood back up, holding the 20 dollar bill in the air triumphantly. She pulled up her goggled, her big brown enthusiastic eyes gazing up at it as a dog would a treat. "Let's get ice cream!"

Jenny saw beauty and brilliance in all things. And Megan saw all beauty and brilliance in Jenny. 

- Evelyn Raczynski

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The character of Jenny Everywhere is available for use by anyone, with only one condition: This paragraph must be included in any publication involving Jenny Everywhere, that others might use this property as they wish. All rights reversed.

Film Review: Captain Marvel (2019) - Dir. Anna Boden & Ryan Fleck

Pictured: Brie Larson as Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel - Dir. Anna Boden & Ryan Fleck - Director of Photography: Ben Davis, BSC - Production Designer: Charles Wood - Costume Designer: Sanja Hays

"My name is Carol Danvers."

Memory and identity are fascinating things to explore in the medium of film. Through inventive use of subjective chronology in editing, one can explore the very processes of memory which help to make us whole in ways that are really impossible to do on stage or in literature. And I will grant that the Elliot Graham (Academy Award nominee for 'Milk) and Debbie Berman, under Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck's direction, do make interesting editorial decisions in capturing the disorientation of rediscovering oneself, particularly in a brilliantly constructed sequence where Talos and his crew scour Carol Danvers' memories in search of what they're looking for. 

But this is surface-level exploration of the themes the movie seems to be intrigued by but never excited about. There's a strong potential for an inner struggle the likes of which the Marvel Cinematic universe hasn't seen before, one that ultimately gets into the core of what I find fascinating about superhero mythology; the idea of the alter ego.

There is Carol Danvers, there is Vers, and there is Captain Marvel. There is potential here to explore the death of the old self to make way for the new. Carol Danvers is a spunky, rather cocky pilot who forced her way through a system that didn't want her. There is Vers, a confident Starforce soldier who is told to suppress who she is, suppress her emotion (which we're really told about rather than shown; she acts... about the same as she did as Carol, which hurts the film's central idea surrounding identity/agency), suppress the things that made her Carol Danvers, who is presumed dead. There is Captain Marvel, the hero she becomes in the end, a combination of all she lost as Carol and all she gained as Vers. "On Hala, you were reborn," The Supreme Intelligence says in an attempt to control Vers. "I want you to be the best version of yourself," says her mentor Yon-Rogg, the best version of herself being one that isn't "so emotional".

I grew up bearing witness to emotional abuse, the abuse of an insecure individual, broken down to being "content in misery", living in quiet suffering, meant to suppress all feelings and doubts about said abuse. Said individual grew up insecure, hit bottom. Said individual is currently working towards confidence, towards strength, towards resolution after what I'd call emotional oppression.

Now, this oppression is told to us in the film rather than shown. Vers is not punished for proving "overemotional", she is not shamed for her humanity, she is not disregarded for her reactions to anything. She is not belittled in ways I recognize. Midsommar, though not a film necessarily centered around sexism, understands the quietly toxic behaviors that chip away at one's self-confidence and esteem. 

Carol never seems that bothered either. She takes it in stride, she never faces the sorts of lapses in confidence one might face after years of being pushed down. Yes, her resilience is admirable, to quote Kelly Sue DeConnick, Captain America gets back up because it's the right thing to do while Captain Marvel gets back up because "fuck you." 

But one key aspect that would help bring her closer to relatability is that doubt, when you're struggling with who you are and working your way back towards confidence and you're unsure if you can do it. It's a doubt I've seen firsthand. It's a doubt that hurts to witness. And to push past that doubt and that fear would make a truly empowering fantasy.

This is where the use of the alter ego comes back into play. Carol, Vers, Captain Marvel. The struggle to know who you are is universal. It is one I experience, it is one those I love and care for experience. And to bring that to life through the narrative, using the loss of her past as metaphor for finding oneself emotionally, would have been a brilliant idea, at least personally. 

The abused individual mentioned, they are not who they were before their abuse. But they are working towards a healthy balance of who they were and who they will be. And it has been a sight to see. It has been a slow, difficult change but it has been and is taking place. And as much as I enjoyed the adventure of the film, its messages of feminist empowerment ring hollow to me, because they're ultimately lightweight. Catharsis is unfounded, for the reclamation of identity comes without much struggle and the oppression of Carol Danvers is not communicated well enough. 

Carol, Vers, Marvel. What a fascinating struggle it could have been to see her struggle with who she is on a level deeper than horrified confusion. To find her alienated from both her human and Kree lives. To struggle to say goodbye to the life and familiarity of Starforce in favor of a better life. To see her come to terms with Carol and with Vers to become Captain Marvel, to then become the best version of herself. 

Perhaps I'm not seeing something essential and these ideas are already found within the movie. But for my tastes, they aren't explored enough or explored satisfactorily. Perhaps I'm asking too much from a Marvel Studios film. But Endgame showed us a Thor allowed to struggle with his confidence after years of a self-assured God of Thunder so perhaps I'm not asking for too much. 

Regardless, I do want to have faith in Carol Danvers as a character. Brie Larson's performance is badass, enthusiastic, sassy, and frankly quite cool. Her chemistry with Samuel L. Jackson is very clear from the moment they meet. I believe in Marvel Studios' abilty to do better by their characters and give them quite strong starting arcs, such as Tony in the first Iron Man film and Thor in his first outing. Carol Danvers, for all of her cockiness, her standoffishness, her attitude, deserves better. And I truly hope she receives it. Until then, I'll simply wait and hope that this series next entry goes higher, further, and faster than its predecessor. 

- The Songbird

Film Review: Weird Science (1985) - Dir. John Hughes

"Why are you messing with the fantasy? We know about the reality. Don't ruin the fantasy, okay?"

Weird Science is about as genuinely weird as it gets. It, like the film's Lisa, is comprised of a variety of pieces; a bit of Pygmalion, James Whale's Bride of Frankenstein, Howard Hawks' "too hot to handle" chaotic screwball (cranked to 11), Mary Poppins, Cinderella, Chuck Jones, Tex Avery Animal House-style frat comedy, and the film's namesake; EC Comics' Weird Science, with inspiration from Al Feldstein's story, Made of the Future. It is clearly a film of many inspirations. 

And how they gel together is one of the film's strengths; in another exhibition of John Hughes' steadfast tonal control, Weird Science's high-wire acts do not overwhelm the movie, instead steadily working its way to the cartoon-like escapades of Lisa (a name meaning "God's Promise," which I can't help but feel is relevant to the story arc) and her time with Gary Wallace and Wyatt Donnelly throughout the narrative. 

And make no mistake, it is Lisa's film. To quote Gary, "Lisa could have a good time at an insurance seminar, Wyatt." From the moment she shows up, in spite of her male gaze-driven introduction, it's she who holds power over our horny adolescent leads. Yes, they created her, yes, she is loyal to them and only them, "belonging to them". These things are quite true. But over the course of the film, the power dynamic shifts from a place of possession to a place of mutual caring; she starts to serve as--as Alexandra Heller-Nichols put it in her essay "Electric Venus; or, How I Learned to Stop Caring and Love Weird Science"--a Fairy Godmother of sorts to two immature teens and teaches them to become men, not only sexually but emotionally. 

This is not to take away from the performances of Anthony Michael Hall (in his third and final performance in a Hughes picture) and Ilan Douglas-Smith, who work off of each other with nervous, displaced energy as ostracized dorks who yearn to fuck when what they need most is tender, honest love. Something which Lisa ultimately grants them, allowing them the strength and courage to give said love to themselves and other women, defying the form of toxic masculinity found in the forms of Ian & Max (Robert Downey Jr. in an early role and Robert Rusler, respectively), and Wyatt's older brother, Chet; characters who objectify women both as bodies of desire and as less-than-equals. 

Of course, it's not as though the film is the most socially conscious, nor did it ever intend to be. To quote a friend, "it's an 80s boob comedy", featuring a then-25 year old woman having sex (off-screen) with a couple of 15 year olds, a gag featuring a young woman being stripped totally naked and hurled into a lake by the vortex of creation spurred by Wyatt's computer that created Lisa, and a scene where, while working up the nerve to talk to the girls they like, they peek out to find that two portly young ladies have taken their place, framed as undesirable. It is, as expected from Hughes, ever sympathetic to young middle-class American youth, quite sophomoric and intentionally so. Which is lovely, in a sense, for a young, horny audience but leaves some sour tastes post-film.

In the end though, in spite of some of the film's genuinely problematic lapses of bad judgement (Anthony Michael Hall speaking jive is... memorable, to say the very least), John Hughes' Weird Science is a fun, good-hearted coming-of-age screwball picture, serving as a subversion (albeit, a slight one) of 80's frat house films that were popular at the time, underscored by a genuinely fantastical air of imagination that pushes the film past others like it at the time. 

- The Songbird