Photo
vital-dust:

The whole show.

vital-dust:

The whole show.

(via oldfilmsflicker)

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(Source: hazelcills)

Photo
oldfilmsflicker:

oldfilmsflicker:

Okay guys, I spent my entire Friday night combing through Netflix and compiling this handy dandy list (with links!) to 100 films directed by women that you can watch RIGHT NOW. Quite a few of these I haven’t even seen myself! There’s comedies and dramas and romances and horror and action and documentary and foreign and Oscar winners and Razzie winners (maybe?) and pretty much anything you could want to watch. I’m sure there are more films by women on the service (100 out of thousands is a good way of hitting the 12% of films stat right on home though). Anyways, enjoy!
14 Women
2 Days in Paris
2 Days in New York
28 Days
A League of Their Own
Adore
Aeon Flux
After the Wedding
Ai Wei Wei: Never Sorry
American Psycho
And While We Were Here
Bastards
Bedrooms and Hallways
Blackfish
Blindsight
Boys Don’t Cry
The Boys Next Door
The Brady Bunch Movie
Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason
Camilla
Carolina
Cherry Blossoms
Children of a Lesser God
Clueless
Committed
Control Room
Countdown to Zero
The Countess
Der Wald Vor Lauter Baumen (Forest For the Trees)
Desert Hearts
Die Friseuse (The Hairdresser)
Dragstrip Girl
Elegy
Fish Tank
For Ellen
Friends With Kids
Goodbye First Love
The Guilt Trip
Holy Smoke
Home
The Hot Flashes
In Between Days
In the Land of Blood and Honey
The Iron Lady
The Kids Are All Right
La Teta Asustada (The Milk of Sorrow)
Last Call at the Oasis
Life Happens
A Little Bit of Heaven
Look Who’s Talking
Look Who’s Talking Too
Lore
Lost in Translation
Love Serenade
Madeinusa
The Man Who Cried
Me and You and Everyone You Know
Movern Callar
The Moth Diaries
My Brilliant Career
Nowhere Boy
Nuyorican Dream
Old Joy
The Peacemaker
Peeples
The Piano
Ping Pong Playa
Plush
Priest
The Prince of Tides
Protagonist
Puccini For Beginners
The Punk Singer
The Queen of Versailles
Ravenous
Riding in Cars with Boys
The Selfish Giant
Shades of Fear
SherryBaby
Sister
Sleeping Beauty
Something’s Gotta Give
Somewhere
The Square
Strange Days
The Taste of Others
Things Behind the Sun
Tiny Furniture
Tomboy
Touchy Feely
Trois Mondes (Three Worlds)
Una Noche
Union Square
Variety
Vinter’s Luck (A Heavenly Vintage)
The Virgin Suicides
Walking and Talking
Waste Land
Water Lilies
The Weight of Water

also don’t forget this list! although some of these have expired since I compiled it.

oldfilmsflicker:

oldfilmsflicker:

Okay guys, I spent my entire Friday night combing through Netflix and compiling this handy dandy list (with links!) to 100 films directed by women that you can watch RIGHT NOW. Quite a few of these I haven’t even seen myself! There’s comedies and dramas and romances and horror and action and documentary and foreign and Oscar winners and Razzie winners (maybe?) and pretty much anything you could want to watch. I’m sure there are more films by women on the service (100 out of thousands is a good way of hitting the 12% of films stat right on home though). Anyways, enjoy!

  1. 14 Women
  2. 2 Days in Paris
  3. 2 Days in New York
  4. 28 Days
  5. A League of Their Own
  6. Adore
  7. Aeon Flux
  8. After the Wedding
  9. Ai Wei Wei: Never Sorry
  10. American Psycho
  11. And While We Were Here
  12. Bastards
  13. Bedrooms and Hallways
  14. Blackfish
  15. Blindsight
  16. Boys Don’t Cry
  17. The Boys Next Door
  18. The Brady Bunch Movie
  19. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason
  20. Camilla
  21. Carolina
  22. Cherry Blossoms
  23. Children of a Lesser God
  24. Clueless
  25. Committed
  26. Control Room
  27. Countdown to Zero
  28. The Countess
  29. Der Wald Vor Lauter Baumen (Forest For the Trees)
  30. Desert Hearts
  31. Die Friseuse (The Hairdresser)
  32. Dragstrip Girl
  33. Elegy
  34. Fish Tank
  35. For Ellen
  36. Friends With Kids
  37. Goodbye First Love
  38. The Guilt Trip
  39. Holy Smoke
  40. Home
  41. The Hot Flashes
  42. In Between Days
  43. In the Land of Blood and Honey
  44. The Iron Lady
  45. The Kids Are All Right
  46. La Teta Asustada (The Milk of Sorrow)
  47. Last Call at the Oasis
  48. Life Happens
  49. A Little Bit of Heaven
  50. Look Who’s Talking
  51. Look Who’s Talking Too
  52. Lore
  53. Lost in Translation
  54. Love Serenade
  55. Madeinusa
  56. The Man Who Cried
  57. Me and You and Everyone You Know
  58. Movern Callar
  59. The Moth Diaries
  60. My Brilliant Career
  61. Nowhere Boy
  62. Nuyorican Dream
  63. Old Joy
  64. The Peacemaker
  65. Peeples
  66. The Piano
  67. Ping Pong Playa
  68. Plush
  69. Priest
  70. The Prince of Tides
  71. Protagonist
  72. Puccini For Beginners
  73. The Punk Singer
  74. The Queen of Versailles
  75. Ravenous
  76. Riding in Cars with Boys
  77. The Selfish Giant
  78. Shades of Fear
  79. SherryBaby
  80. Sister
  81. Sleeping Beauty
  82. Something’s Gotta Give
  83. Somewhere
  84. The Square
  85. Strange Days
  86. The Taste of Others
  87. Things Behind the Sun
  88. Tiny Furniture
  89. Tomboy
  90. Touchy Feely
  91. Trois Mondes (Three Worlds)
  92. Una Noche
  93. Union Square
  94. Variety
  95. Vinter’s Luck (A Heavenly Vintage)
  96. The Virgin Suicides
  97. Walking and Talking
  98. Waste Land
  99. Water Lilies
  100. The Weight of Water

also don’t forget this list! although some of these have expired since I compiled it.

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Text

Anonymous said: Hey I noticed your face was really clear do you do anything to stop acne?

cutely-perverted:

wakeupalexis:

codeinewarrior:

I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I’ll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply a herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.

Someone really tagged this as beauty so they can go back to look at it and really reference it.

I’m dying 😂😭

Yes. Why not? Is that a problem?

Photoset

Loving people doesn’t save them.

Mommy (2014) dir. Xavier Dolan

(Source: cyberqueer, via cinemaoftheworld)

Photo
chamanka:

inthemoodtodissolveinthesky: Robert Mapplethorpe in front of his cover for Patti Smith’s Horses, 1975 ca.

chamanka:

inthemoodtodissolveinthesky: Robert Mapplethorpe in front of his cover for Patti Smith’s Horses, 1975 ca.

Photoset

Marlon Brando and his Grandmother, 1949.
photographed by Edward Clark

(Source: thelittlefreakazoidthatcould, via mabellonghetti)

Photoset

the-yiffmeister:

I don’t know what sparked me to draw this 

(via maggiecheungs)

Photoset

andreiarsenyevich:

On the set of Stalker (1979)

(Source: immos.livejournal.com, via fuckyeahdirectors)

Photo
gotitfromthatbasehead:

Olivia Bee
Photo
haidaspicciare:

Ludivine Sagnier, "Swimming Pool" (François Ozon, 2003).

haidaspicciare:

Ludivine Sagnier, "Swimming Pool" (François Ozon, 2003).

(via andreii-tarkovsky)

Photo
oldfilmsflicker:


When I coined the term “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” in an essay about the movie “Elizabethtown” in 2007, I never could have imagined how that phrase would explode. Describing the film’s adorably daffy love interest played by Kirsten Dunst, I defined the MPDG as a fantasy figure who “exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.”
That day in 2007, I remember watching “Elizabethtown” and being distracted by the preposterousness of its heroine, Claire. Dunst’s psychotically bubbly stewardess seemed to belong in some magical, otherworldly realm — hence the “pixie” — offering up her phone number to strangers and drawing whimsical maps to help her man find his way. And as Dunst cavorted across the screen, I thought also of Natalie Portman in “Garden State,” a similarly carefree nymphet who is the accessory to Zach Braff’s character development. It’s an archetype, I realized, that taps into a particular male fantasy: of being saved from depression and ennui by a fantasy woman who sweeps in like a glittery breeze to save you from yourself, then disappears once her work is done.
When I hit “publish” on that piece, the first entry in a column I called “My Year of Flops,” I was pretty proud of myself. I felt as if I had tapped into something that had been a part of our culture for a long time and given it a catchy, descriptive name — a name with what Malcolm Gladwell might call “stickiness.”
But I should clarify a few things here. The trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a fundamentally sexist one, since it makes women seem less like autonomous, independent entities than appealing props to help mopey, sad white men self-actualize. Within that context, the phrase was useful precisely because, while still fairly flexible, it also benefited from a certain specificity. Claire was an unusually pure example of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl — a fancifully if thinly conceived flibbertigibbet who has no reason to exist except to cheer up one miserable guy.
The response to my review was pretty positive but relatively sleepy. The A.V. Club was a whole lot smaller back then and the phrase didn’t really gain traction until a year later, when my colleague Tasha Robinson proposed doing a list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls for the “Inventory” feature of our site. The list, published in 2008, was titled “16 films featuring Manic Pixie Dream Girls,” and featured, along with Dunst and Portman, Diane Keaton in “Annie Hall” and Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
I remember thinking, even back then, that a whole list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls might be stretching the conceit too far. The archetype of the free-spirited life-lover who cheers up a male sad-sack had existed in the culture for ages. But by giving an idea a name and a fuzzy definition, you apparently also give it power. And in my case, that power spun out of control.
In the years since I wrote about the MPDG, I’ve been floored by how pervasive the trope has become. At first it was just a few scattered mentions in other critics’ reviews. Then Zooey Deschanel strummed a ukulele and became a Hollywood It girl and suddenly theMPDGwaseverywhere. During one particularly strange day in 2011, I read that Cameron Crowe (the man behind “Elizabethtown,” as well as “Almost Famous” and much else) was asked about the phrase and replied, “I dig it … I keep thinking I’ll run into Nathan Rabin and we’ll have a great conversation about it.” This blew my mind. I have been writing about pop culture for a long time but I could honestly not believe that Cameron Crowe knew my name and thought about meeting me someday.
But the more the cultural myth of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl expanded, the more my ambivalence about it grew.  “Manicpixiedreamgirl” became the title of a young adult novelabout a teenage boy obsessed with a free-spirited female classmate, something I only learned about when a reader directed me to the book’s Amazon page. The author did not choose the book’s title, I learned in my one exchange with him over Facebook; it was his publisher’s idea. I couldn’t bring myself to read it. Critics began coining spinoff tropes like the “manic pixie dream guy.” Mindy Kaling name-dropped Manic Pixie Dream Girls in a New Yorker piece on female-centric films. And last year I had the surreal experience of watching a musical called Manic Pixie Dreamland, about a fantasy realm that produces Manic Pixie Dream Girls. Sitting in the dark theater, I thought: “What have I done?!”
Sure, part of it was that by that point, I had begun to feel a little like a one-hit wonder. But I also realized that I didn’t recognize the manic pixie anymore. Clearly labels and definitions are inherently reductive. And if you are a critic, labels and names and definitions are a necessary evil. But it’s a particular feature of the fast-paced, ephemeral world of online criticism that writers are always seeking quick reference points to contextualize their analysis — so the rise of the MPDG was in large part a creation of the Internet as well.
At the film site the Dissolve, where I am a staff writer, my editor has gently discouraged me from using the phrase “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” in my writing, less because using a phrase I coined reeks of self-congratulation, but because in 2014 calling a character a Manic Pixie Dream Girl is nearly as much of a cliché as the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope.
And I don’t need much discouraging, even when writing about a fairly clear-cut instance of a Manic Pixie, like Charlize Theron’s impossibly perfect, sexy, supportive gun-slinger in “A Million Ways to Die in the West.” As is often the case in conversations about gender, or race, or class, or sexuality, things get cloudy and murky really quickly. I coined the phrase to call out cultural sexism and to make it harder for male writers to posit reductive, condescending male fantasies of ideal women as realistic characters. But I looked on queasily as the phrase was increasingly accused of being sexist itself.
John Green, for one, felt so passionately about the toxic nature of the trope that in a Tumblr post he declared that his novel “Paper Towns” “is devoted IN ITS ENTIRETY to destroying the lie of the manic pixie dream girl” before adding, “I do not know how I could have been less ambiguous about this without calling (Paper Towns) The Patriarchal Lie of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Must Be Stabbed in the Heart and Killed.” In an interview with Vulture, “Ruby Sparks” writer-star Zoe Kazan answered a question about whether her character was a Manic Pixie Dream Girl by asserting: “I think it’s basically misogynist.” In a later interview, when once again confronted with the dreaded MPDG label, Kazan continued, “I don’t like that term … I think it’s turned into this unstoppable monster where people use it to describe things that don’t really fall under that rubric.”
Here’s the thing: I completely agree with Kazan. And at this point in my life, I honestly hate the term too. I feel deeply weird, if not downright ashamed, at having created a cliché that has been trotted out again and again in an infinite Internet feedback loop. I understand how someone could read the A.V. Club list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls and be offended by the assertion that a character they deeply love and have an enduring affection for, whether it’s Diane Keaton’s Annie Hall or Katharine Hepburn in “Bringing Up Baby,” is nothing more than a representation of a sexist trope or some sad dude’s regressive fantasy.
It doesn’t make sense that a character as nuanced and unforgettable as Annie Hall could exist solely to cheer up Alvy Singer. As Kazan has noted, Allen based a lot of Annie Hall on Diane Keaton, who, as far as I know, is a real person and not a ridiculous male fantasy.
So I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize to pop culture: I’m sorry for creating this unstoppable monster. Seven years after I typed that fateful phrase, I’d like to join Kazan and Green in calling for the death of the “Patriarchal Lie” of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope. I would welcome its erasure from public discourse. I’d applaud an end to articles about its countless different permutations. Let’s all try to write better, more nuanced and multidimensional female characters: women with rich inner lives and complicated emotions and total autonomy, who might strum ukuleles or dance in the rain even when there are no men around to marvel at their free-spiritedness. But in the meantime, Manic Pixies, it’s time to put you to rest.


I’m sorry for coining the phrase “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” - Salon.com

oldfilmsflicker:

When I coined the term “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” in an essay about the movie “Elizabethtown” in 2007, I never could have imagined how that phrase would explode. Describing the film’s adorably daffy love interest played by Kirsten Dunst, I defined the MPDG as a fantasy figure who “exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.”

That day in 2007, I remember watching “Elizabethtown” and being distracted by the preposterousness of its heroine, Claire. Dunst’s psychotically bubbly stewardess seemed to belong in some magical, otherworldly realm — hence the “pixie” — offering up her phone number to strangers and drawing whimsical maps to help her man find his way. And as Dunst cavorted across the screen, I thought also of Natalie Portman in “Garden State,” a similarly carefree nymphet who is the accessory to Zach Braff’s character development. It’s an archetype, I realized, that taps into a particular male fantasy: of being saved from depression and ennui by a fantasy woman who sweeps in like a glittery breeze to save you from yourself, then disappears once her work is done.

When I hit “publish” on that piece, the first entry in a column I called “My Year of Flops,” I was pretty proud of myself. I felt as if I had tapped into something that had been a part of our culture for a long time and given it a catchy, descriptive name — a name with what Malcolm Gladwell might call “stickiness.”

But I should clarify a few things here. The trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a fundamentally sexist one, since it makes women seem less like autonomous, independent entities than appealing props to help mopey, sad white men self-actualize. Within that context, the phrase was useful precisely because, while still fairly flexible, it also benefited from a certain specificity. Claire was an unusually pure example of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl — a fancifully if thinly conceived flibbertigibbet who has no reason to exist except to cheer up one miserable guy.

The response to my review was pretty positive but relatively sleepy. The A.V. Club was a whole lot smaller back then and the phrase didn’t really gain traction until a year later, when my colleague Tasha Robinson proposed doing a list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls for the “Inventory” feature of our site. The list, published in 2008, was titled “16 films featuring Manic Pixie Dream Girls,” and featured, along with Dunst and Portman, Diane Keaton in “Annie Hall” and Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

I remember thinking, even back then, that a whole list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls might be stretching the conceit too far. The archetype of the free-spirited life-lover who cheers up a male sad-sack had existed in the culture for ages. But by giving an idea a name and a fuzzy definition, you apparently also give it power. And in my case, that power spun out of control.

In the years since I wrote about the MPDG, I’ve been floored by how pervasive the trope has become. At first it was just a few scattered mentions in other critics’ reviews. Then Zooey Deschanel strummed a ukulele and became a Hollywood It girl and suddenly theMPDGwaseverywhere. During one particularly strange day in 2011, I read that Cameron Crowe (the man behind “Elizabethtown,” as well as “Almost Famous” and much else) was asked about the phrase and replied, “I dig it … I keep thinking I’ll run into Nathan Rabin and we’ll have a great conversation about it.” This blew my mind. I have been writing about pop culture for a long time but I could honestly not believe that Cameron Crowe knew my name and thought about meeting me someday.

But the more the cultural myth of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl expanded, the more my ambivalence about it grew.  “Manicpixiedreamgirl” became the title of a young adult novelabout a teenage boy obsessed with a free-spirited female classmate, something I only learned about when a reader directed me to the book’s Amazon page. The author did not choose the book’s title, I learned in my one exchange with him over Facebook; it was his publisher’s idea. I couldn’t bring myself to read it. Critics began coining spinoff tropes like the “manic pixie dream guy.” Mindy Kaling name-dropped Manic Pixie Dream Girls in a New Yorker piece on female-centric films. And last year I had the surreal experience of watching a musical called Manic Pixie Dreamland, about a fantasy realm that produces Manic Pixie Dream Girls. Sitting in the dark theater, I thought: “What have I done?!”

Sure, part of it was that by that point, I had begun to feel a little like a one-hit wonder. But I also realized that I didn’t recognize the manic pixie anymore. Clearly labels and definitions are inherently reductive. And if you are a critic, labels and names and definitions are a necessary evil. But it’s a particular feature of the fast-paced, ephemeral world of online criticism that writers are always seeking quick reference points to contextualize their analysis — so the rise of the MPDG was in large part a creation of the Internet as well.

At the film site the Dissolve, where I am a staff writer, my editor has gently discouraged me from using the phrase “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” in my writing, less because using a phrase I coined reeks of self-congratulation, but because in 2014 calling a character a Manic Pixie Dream Girl is nearly as much of a cliché as the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope.

And I don’t need much discouraging, even when writing about a fairly clear-cut instance of a Manic Pixie, like Charlize Theron’s impossibly perfect, sexy, supportive gun-slinger in “A Million Ways to Die in the West.” As is often the case in conversations about gender, or race, or class, or sexuality, things get cloudy and murky really quickly. I coined the phrase to call out cultural sexism and to make it harder for male writers to posit reductive, condescending male fantasies of ideal women as realistic characters. But I looked on queasily as the phrase was increasingly accused of being sexist itself.

John Green, for one, felt so passionately about the toxic nature of the trope that in a Tumblr post he declared that his novel “Paper Towns” “is devoted IN ITS ENTIRETY to destroying the lie of the manic pixie dream girl” before adding, “I do not know how I could have been less ambiguous about this without calling (Paper Towns) The Patriarchal Lie of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Must Be Stabbed in the Heart and Killed.” In an interview with Vulture, “Ruby Sparks” writer-star Zoe Kazan answered a question about whether her character was a Manic Pixie Dream Girl by asserting: “I think it’s basically misogynist.” In a later interview, when once again confronted with the dreaded MPDG label, Kazan continued, “I don’t like that term … I think it’s turned into this unstoppable monster where people use it to describe things that don’t really fall under that rubric.”

Here’s the thing: I completely agree with Kazan. And at this point in my life, I honestly hate the term too. I feel deeply weird, if not downright ashamed, at having created a cliché that has been trotted out again and again in an infinite Internet feedback loop. I understand how someone could read the A.V. Club list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls and be offended by the assertion that a character they deeply love and have an enduring affection for, whether it’s Diane Keaton’s Annie Hall or Katharine Hepburn in “Bringing Up Baby,” is nothing more than a representation of a sexist trope or some sad dude’s regressive fantasy.

It doesn’t make sense that a character as nuanced and unforgettable as Annie Hall could exist solely to cheer up Alvy Singer. As Kazan has noted, Allen based a lot of Annie Hall on Diane Keaton, who, as far as I know, is a real person and not a ridiculous male fantasy.

So I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize to pop culture: I’m sorry for creating this unstoppable monster. Seven years after I typed that fateful phrase, I’d like to join Kazan and Green in calling for the death of the “Patriarchal Lie” of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope. I would welcome its erasure from public discourse. I’d applaud an end to articles about its countless different permutations. Let’s all try to write better, more nuanced and multidimensional female characters: women with rich inner lives and complicated emotions and total autonomy, who might strum ukuleles or dance in the rain even when there are no men around to marvel at their free-spiritedness. But in the meantime, Manic Pixies, it’s time to put you to rest.

I’m sorry for coining the phrase “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” - Salon.com

Photo
theswinginsixties:

Steve Marriott and Chrissie Shrimpton

theswinginsixties:

Steve Marriott and Chrissie Shrimpton

(Source: sixtiescircus)

Quote
"I quit smoking in December. I’m really depressed about it. I love smoking, I love fire, I miss lighting cigarettes. I like the whole thing about it, to me it turns into the artist’s life, and now people like Bloomberg have made animals out of smokers, and they think that if they stop smoking everyone will live forever."

— David Lynch (via dechires)

(Source: terralibertas, via ericrohmer)