shit gets real
continuity at its finest
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A minute of silence for all the good books with bad movie adaptions.
A minute of silence for all the bad books that are getting movie adaptations.
A minute of…
But here’s the thing. Never mind us blundering fools, check out the fans. Two hundred and ten of them, with the top-secret episode within their grasp – and because we asked nicely, they didn’t breathe a word. Not one. Even Doctor Who websites have been closing their comments sections, just in case anyone blurts. I’m gobsmacked. I’m impressed. Actually, I’m humbled. And we are all very grateful.
accurate “The Name Of The Doctor” reaction.
(Mother’s Day by michaelaranda)
Michael Aranda proved today that he has all the makings of a serious video artist. His latest short-short film Mother’s Day shows his mother’s life and death from cancer, and raises the bar for making art out of life. Art is no stranger to fatal illness. The artist Hannah Wilke performed a bold feat of autobiography with Intra-Venus (1992-1993),a gritty photographic document of her own deterioration and death via cancer. Yet much of it is (understandably) staged or posed. Aranda’s film speaks to Wilke, but capitalizes on a hyper-wired 21st century. Instead of intentionally filming particular moments, Aranda films his life almost unceasingly, and in doing so he delivers real-time footage through his own eyes, which happen to double as a camera. We watch his face at the exact moment he learns (via text message) of his mother’s death. What was once an ephemeral moment of grief becomes cemented in digital time to be played over and over again. For an exacting documentarian like Aranda, “now” is a time recorded from every angle and he becomes a curator of his own film vault, culling meaning from the everyday footage.
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