[Movie Club] Why Audiences Hated “Noah”

This is the first post in a series we’re going to call “Movie Club”. We watch a movie that neither of us have seen (which will usually one on Netflix or Hulu), write a short piece pertaining to the film, and then say if we recommend it or not. This week I’ll be the only one writing an essay, as thedude has a con to go to/is a terrible person. Anyway, yeah, here is the thing!

If you’ve heard anything about Darren Aronofsky’s film Noah, it was probably something about rock monsters. Many people, primarily those who went to the theaters expecting a one for one retelling of the flood story from the Bible, were disappointed and upset by some of the artistic liberties that were taken, with the rock monsters being the most often cited example. While you could say that gaps have to be filled when adapting such sparse source material, that the rock monsters are nephilim or golems, or any number of arguments that are either pro or anti rock monster, I feel like the source of much of the film’s negative reception comes from elsewhere.

[Election ‘016 009] Are You There, Ron? It’s Me, Teddy

“Dammit, Eleanor, the American dream is dead!” Rafael spit at his wife and slammed his empty beer bottle on the table.

“Please, Rafael, not in front of the boy!” Eleanor grappled onto a bawling Teddy, whose American flag jammies were now damp with tears.

[Election ‘016 007] Bernie Sand Adventures

     

    I’ve got to get the hell out of here. This corridor feels like it’s closing in on me, like every step I take someone is stretching it out further and the walls are getting closer and closer. I can’t breathe. It is probably right behind me, but I can’t look back. Have to keep running.

          I think I see a door ahead. Finally. Please be the exit. It looks heavy and rough, like two uncarved slabs of oak were propped up in the doorway. I press against the right side of the double door, putting all of my weight forward. Please don’t be locked. I’ll die if it is locked.

The Curious Case of Hayden Christensen

I had just gotten off of work. It was late, far too late for me to be walking home through this part of town, but my car was broken down and I missed the bus so I didn’t really have much of a choice. The street was quiet and empty, although I could still hear the cars rushing down the interstate nearby. I would much rather have been walking down the middle of the interstate right now.

I thought I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. It was probably my imagination, but I sped up anyway.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Hatchet and Sord: A Story

This is a story that was written in 30 minutes sometime in the summer of 2012, based off of a joke I made with thedude3445 somewhere around that time, that I (lightly) revised 30 minutes ago to make it readable. I give you…

Hatchet and Sord

          It is a warm summer day in the Massachusetts colony, during the year of 1744. A small child, naught older than the tender age of 2, is playing just outside a small puritan settlement. On this fateful day, his village is attacked by a tribe of Native Americans known as the Wafanoken. His entire town is ravaged by the Wafanoken assailers, he being the only survivor. As is customary for the Wafanoken in times of war, the boy is taken in by the tribe. To mark his induction into the Wafanoken, the left 1/3 of his head is scalped. This child, his Christian name now long lost, is crowned Skrillex.

[Clipart Story 002] Generic Fish

          Fish swam through the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean, as he always did and as the hundreds of fish next to him always did. He didn’t much care for swimming, to be honest. Occasionally a beam of sunlight would shimmer through from the surface, or he would see another bunch of fish swimming through the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean, as they always did, but for the most part all he saw were the other fish of his school. It wasn’t the most exciting thing that Fish could imagine doing, but he figured he might as well swim around some more.

          After a while, Fish stopped swimming. He felt that he had been swimming far too long and that he deserved a break. The other fish stopped, sensing a disturbance in their formation.

          “What are you doing?” one of the other fish asked Fish. The school turned around in unison and all of his fishy brothers and sisters were staring.

[Clipart Story 001] Content Buddha Head

          The Content Buddha sat beneath the branches of a fig tree, head bowed in silent meditation while the fan of the laptop atop his legs whirred softly like the spring breeze. People traveled far and wide, from all corners of the world, just to get a glimpse of the Content Buddha. Every now and again, a particularly brave acolyte would approach him meekly and put forth some great question that had been plaguing their conscious.

          “Oh Content Buddha, great and wise, I beseech you,” the man dropped to his knees, as close to the earth as he could before the Content Buddha. “How, oh how can I get more hits on my blog?”

          “Please, stand. One does not have to wallow before the Content Buddha. We are all one, brother,” the auspicious Content Buddha beckoned the man to stand.