okay so i love movies! sue me!
top 4 is 3/4 movies stuck on my mind and 1/4 and forever Little Women (1994)
(i do not tag spoilers🫢)
do you ever feel like you’re narrating your own life — watching it play out in front of you like an episode of television?
something is wrong, something nearly indistinguishable but bearing the weight of a planet, a pea under the mattress. i’m not supposed to be here, not like this, not for this long. i made the wrong decision somewhere before, turned right when i should have turned left. it feels irreversible, yet completely intolerable — you are wrong.
the…
engorged pustules pulsating, greasy rotted fingers shoveling piles of flesh into a bottomless and throbbing void, one way ticket only.
you were once pure, pristine, pined for — now you are only mirrored pores under a microscope, squeezed and prodded and poked and drained until the decay is all that remains.
that’s what you wanted, right? to be seen? so see me. watch the rot, the monstrous purification, see exactly how the core has been spoiled. this is what you wanted. this is what you get. this is what remains.
REMEMBER YOU ARE ONE.
i was done crying (literally dont @ me i feel possessed iron man does insane things to me) and then i noticed for the first time that they play the sound of metal hammering (like in the cave where tony built the first iron man) at the very end of the credits . do you want me to throw up
lowkey i do like this one maybe exclusively for how much shit it got because it's not that bad in the mcu oeuvre...
also barbie totally ripped their shit with the i am human moment smh 🙄🙄🙄🙄
i’m being punished.
mickey 17 is an undeniably hilarious romp with robert pattinson shining in the center, but unfortunately, the pillars of the plot are weakened with over-saturation and a disjointed edit. i had a blast, sure, but i walked away wanting something with a bit more meat on the bones (pun intended). it has all of bong joon ho’s signature (ugly-cute creatures, capitalism as the villain, an underdog mc), but the ink got blotted and blurry somewhere along the…
where is evil? where does it come from? can you reach out and touch it? is it downstairs? is it all around? is it nothing? nowhere?
here, evil twists out from the gaps and engulfs you, it emerges bubbling from dark corners and wraps you up with icy fingers in blankets of pure white snow; evil comes in whispers from the trees and from behind lock and key. evil knows no time, it folds and expands so that beginning becomes…