a knight of the seven kingdoms made me realise (once again) how badly i want to be both a knight and a princess. tragic, really. realistically i would’ve been a mildly sickly peasant who dies of the plague at 23, but a girl can dream.
currently single but just know: if my future husband doesn’t gift me a steel sword on our wedding day, i’m handing him divorce papers before the feast even starts.
anyway. i saw an edit of edmure tully to sweet sir galahad by joan baez and it made me wildly emotional. he did not deserve how the showrunners treated his character and i will stand by that forever, so i made a medieval inspired playlist but with modern songs.
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a film about killing yourself and ending up somewhere even emptier. not violent. not dramatic. just drained. like depression made into a landscape. no smiles. no stars. no music that works. just you, stuck with the quiet.
and still, somehow, you miss someone. still, somehow, you want something.
Desiree — and yeah, naming her that? kind of genius. she’s not just a girl, she’s desire itself. the want that keeps you moving. the maybe that keeps you from stopping.
a miracle. a reason. anything.
it‘s a recovery movie, but not in the „you get better“ kind of way. more like: you start walking. you find a shitty car. you meet someone who looks just as lost as you feel. you follow a thread of hope so thin it could break if you breathe wrong — and you breathe anyway.
the miracles aren’t holy. they’re tiny. stupid, even. a hat that floats. a light that turns on. but they only show up when people start to feel again. when they want something. when they choose something. it’s not about god. it’s about motion. about trying. about caring, even when it feels impossible.
there’s something brutal about how quiet the movie is. how much it unterstands that suicide isn’t always pain — sometimes it’s about emptiness. but it also knows that even in the numbness. there’s still a way out. not through going back. but through something new. a hand reached out. a dumb song on the radio. someone laughing beside you in the dark.
the ending was quietly perfect — not a grand finale, but this fragile, small light that maybe, just maybe, you can learn to love life again. maybe the “love story” isn’t about romance at all. it’s about learning to want again. about finding the courage to keep moving when everything feels like a long, endless pit.
not a love story. not really. more like a map out of the pit.
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me watching a possessed woman spiral into shrieking religious ecstasy in a Berlin subway tunnel via a possibbly cursed russian site with 12 popups and a virus baking in the corner of my screen: cinema is alive and well actually
jem starling my beloved (owen rot in hell challenge)
mini review on the starling girl (2023)
jem starling you are so dear to me. eliza scanlen i am kissing you gently on the forehead.
every scene with owen made my skin crawl like actually i was gripping the bed like i was in a horror movie. the kissing. the sex. the “yes. i’m serious. i love you.” SICKENING. revolting. 10/10 acting. lewis pullman how dare you be hot and play the most manipulative man alive?? i’m suing.
religion as control, religion as shame, religion as a cage you don't even realise you're in until you're choking, this movie got it SO RIGHT it physically hurt.
and jem’s mom punching owen?? cinema. oscar-worthy. only complaint: she should’ve hit him harder. maybe twice. maybe with a chair.
anyway. i’m gonna go lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling.
