well what if we give mike flanagan a really cloying and touchyfeely property to adapt and he ends up making something that’s just fully shit your pants scary and depraved

I would take a job pushing the Sisyphus rock if it paid 20 an hour and I could wear my headphones

Don't jerk off in anger

keep thinking about that reveal in the odyssey and crying. the match cut of the preistess to the statue of athena. jeeeeeesus christ.

like. on one hand there's the fact that the priestess's patron goddess is athena and the statue being beheaded at the exact same moment as the priestess represents an attack on athena herself - by killing her priestess you "kill" athena too. you disrespect her personally, in her temple. and this imagery of course ties into the idea of zeus's law, you treat strangers well when they are in your home because they could be a god in disguise. but what's interesting about the scene is that the priestess isn't, as far as we can tell, athena in disguise; she is an innocent woman who begs for her life and is brutally murdered for no reason at all. in that sense the cut from the priestess to athena's statue takes zeus's law and turns it into something else: not all strangers are gods, but all strangers each have within them the touch of the divine, which is to say that they are each worthy and precious by virtue of being a human being. it basically aligns the idea of god and the human, so that when you kill a person, you also in a sense "kill" god. not athena, not zeus or any of the others but the very idea of god is destroyed. which parallels in some ways the larger themes of the movie and the collapse of social norms that follow the sack of troy - "to burn the walls of troy was to burn the world." in that sense the moment of the priestess's death is the moment when all the major ideas of the movie converge, the absolute emotional climax, maybe even more so than odysseus' homecoming. in this moment the destruction of troy is narrowed down to one singular moment, one life that was taken while odysseus stood by and watched. the destruction of god and the world, all at once.

stratt gets to her monthly scheduled half-hour for "feeling things" and lets herself descend into cheeky little bitter envious frenzy over not having the coma resistance gene markers. oh, to not have to face the rest of her life on earth and be locked away helpless while everyone starves, and instead just wake up, work for a single month more, eat the best food available, fix everything with her own two hands, die in satisfied peace, and be remembered with reverence. she's just getting into a proper spiral about how grace has this opportunity but can't even seem to comprehend why this would the most beautiful thing and why, why doesn't he? does he not care? about the world, about me, about himself? what's wrong with him? he has the capacity to care, I've seen it, it's there, but he refuses it. why won't he do this for all of us? if I could just reach into his brain and fix-- and then her alarm goes off and she has to go to her next meeting.