The Thing About Wes Anderson's Films Is That I Don't Always Connect With The Stories He Is Telling, But

Can we stop acting like two people deeply loving each other has to mean they have something romantic or sexual going on? Can we stop talking as if platonic love just can't be that deep? Because that's not true. Platonic love can be just as deep, and sometimes even deeper, than romantic love. What I'm saying is, we need to stop putting romance on this pedestal and act like every other form of love is less important.

WATCHED IN 2023:

Նռան գույնը The Color of Pomegranates (1969), dir. Sergei Parajanov

MELKON ALEKSANYAN as THE POET AS A CHILD

the poet as a child & books

Ayo Edebiri is special to me because bluntly speaking, every time a young actress of colour blows up in Western media spotlight it's usually a light skinned woman or a biracial person with very Eurocentric features and beauty. It's almost like clockwork every time, and the standards of beauty are carefully upheld by colourism even while maintaining a guise of "diversity". But in Ayo's case, it's really great having a gorgeous and talented dark skinned actress be successful, beloved and hailed as a sapphic icon in a way that does not feel like audience paying lip service or being performative.

Like idk how to articulate but it's just so goddamn rare seeing an actual young dark skinned woc thrive in fandom spaces and in terms of commercial or critical success. I really hope people can learn to accept dark skinned young women in comedies, romances and mainstream show business more often because everywhere in movie and shows fandoms, from edits to fanart to fancasts to *actual* casts are BRIMMING with light complexioned actresses of colour. And dark skinned women are expected to grovel and be grateful for getting those crumbs of representation.

This is for all the people who are struggling but just keep getting up and trying. The ones who keep showing up, day after day, even when they don’t want to. The ones who stare at the fridge, willing themselves to cook food even though they want to skip. The ones who get up and get water even when they’d prefer to ignore their own needs. The ones who keep on breathing, even when they don’t really want to, because they trust the day will come when the tightness around their hearts has eased.

this is for everyone, because everyone here today has kept on being. even on the days when they didn’t particularly want to. the hard days and the sad ones and the hurt ones, too. You are still here, trying, and this is a moment of recognition for all the beautiful work you’ve done.

Keep going, love. The light comes back.

THOMAS SHELBY + smoking

Shinichi Sakamoto

the absolute funniest plot of nbc hannibal is the fact that the fbi is looking for a serial killer that is highly skilled in evading the police and has been killing for decades in multiple countries, and then they hired a guy who showed up to work like this every day to catch him.

I miss Jude.

Sometimes I don’t know what I really mean by that. At least right now what I mean is that I miss reading his dialogue. A good amount of the book is about his thoughts and actions. But his conversations —his innocent questions, his sarcastic humor, his petulant stubbornness, his lengthy discussions about law and math — are precious to me. I miss reading him speak.

Some days I miss his routines, other days I miss his introspection. Today I miss his voice, even though I’ve never heard it before.

Queerness, Gentrification and Cultural Genocide in the film La Mission

This is an essay I wrote as part of my pursuit of an Ethnic Studies degree at Cal State East Bay during the Fall Quarter 2017. This will be part of a series of essay posts from my classes at the end of my school quarters. This and all of my essays were written under my legal name, Dennis Camargo.

In the film La Mission, the audience is introduced to Che, a former prisoner and alcoholic, and his son Jes, a student just about to graduate high school. The plot of the film focuses on the tumultuous relationship between Che and Jes after Jes was inadvertently outed as a gay man by his father stumbling across photos of Jes in a gay club. In the film there is an underlying tone of Che interpreting male homosexuality as a force of consumerism and gentrification in La Mission, the area of San Francisco where the film takes place. Che is unable to reconcile his son’s queerness, therefore branding his son as a race trader and being complicit in the cultural genocide of a historically Mexican district of San Francisco.

Very early in the film, the audience is met with Che’s fears of La Mission falling victim to gentrification like many other parts of San Francisco. Che confronts his neighbor Lena, who has filed a complaint against Che with their landlord for blocking the sidewalk with his lowrider. The audience sees Che’s defensiveness against this complaint as encroachment of seemingly God-given right as a Mexican man to exert his dominance and symbols of masculinity in his Azatlan, the mythical homeland of Aztecs and by extension Mexican culture. He states “…after all you hipster types are tired of slummin’ it, I’m still going to be here,” to Lena, a black woman who personifies a typical hipster/gentrifier complete with fixed gear bicycle and an interest in New Age beliefs (00:10:15). Despite her race, her hipster interests are typified as white behavior and therefore is an extension of the cultural genocide of La Mission district. While her lifestyle is not necessarily queer, it is accepting of queerness which opens the door for more white culture to smother the hypermasculine, hyper heterosexual Chicano culture of La Mission.

Che has a very complex interpretation of his son’s queerness because of his history as a convict, his addiction to alcohol and the association of gay culture with alcohol, whiteness and consumerism. Che’s few associations with gayness are exemplified with the line “Is that why he’s manhandling you like you’re some Mexican bitch?,” (00:27:05) when he confronts Jes with the photographic evidence of is encounter with his white boyfriend. Another instance is an ad for here!, a gay-oriented on demand television channel being advertised on the busses he drives (00:40:26). These two instances can be interpreted as colonial, capitalist gentrifiers of his Azatlan, making Jes la Malinche, a historical figure vilified by Mexican people for selling out the Native Mexicans to the Spanish (Garsd). On a very tangential note, his association with queerness and clubbing, therefore alcohol use, can be seen as a white drug adulterating a perfect Aztec life, as there tremendous pride in Aztec identity among those who pride themselves as Chicano. This adulteration can be tied to the trope of Native Americans struggling with alcohol abuse.  

Conclusively, while Che’s interpretation of queerness and white hipsterdom gentrifying traditional black and brown neighborhoods is not necessarily incorrect, he fails to see the nuances of being queer. Queers of color can be equally weary of gentrification and cultural genocide of historically black and brown areas and are willing to protect la raza from falling victim to capitalism. Understanding of the intersectionality of being brown and queer will help in the effort against gentrification. 

Citations

La Mission, www.amazon.com/Mission-Benjamin-Bratt/dp/B003ZZ4H6K/ ref=sr_1_1? ie=UTF8&qid=1509596248&sr=8-1&keywords=la%2Bmission&dpID=513tWYMpb7L&preST=_SY300_QL70_&dpSrc=srch.

Garsd, Jasmine. “Despite Similarities, Pocahontas Gets Love, Malinche Gets Hate. Why?” NPR, NPR, 25 Nov. 2015, www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2015/11/25/457256340/despite-similarities-pocahontas-gets-love-malinche-gets-hate-why.