Hah. Thank you. I like sharing things I like. I realize that's the rationale for almost all of the internet (the remainder is sharing things you hate), but I'm glad it works for other people as well as me.
and I felt so disappointed about the second: I would have liked it to be all about the handsome Red Baron.
He was a supporting character! The hero is the traditionally haunted, self-doubting Eric Wells, who as a child in the first invasion froze in the street under a Martian tripod's boiling green glare and saw his parents die before his eyes, saving him—naturally he thinks of himself as a coward and the rest of the characters keep reminding him that he was ten. Every time his surname was mentioned, derspatchel and I couldn't keep from wondering just who survived to write the famous novel, anyway.
If you want a crazy piece of anime with brilliantly tweaked historical figures all in the same plotline, fortunately we have the Read or Die OVA. A pair of friends showed it to me years ago and I am still occasionally seized with the impulse to run through rooms shouting, "I AM OTTO LILIENTHAL!"
. . . It'll make sense in context.
But you make the awful sound funny.
It's the schadenfreude that does it!
Your write-up of Dimensions: a Line, a Loop, a Tangle of Threads is intriguing; I'll see if I can get it on interlibrary loan maybe.
It's seriously the best time-travel film I've seen since Primer (2004). Safety Not Guaranteed is in many ways a completely different genre's take on the idea of recovering lost time, but the results in both cases are things I really like.
What's La Luna like?
Very gentle, almost like something by Tomie dePaola. It's not silent, but it's not in real language either: the boy's father and grandfather argue constantly in Italian-sounding Peanuts-adult mutternoise, disputing everything—which angle their boy should wear his new cap at, which tool he should use to get the night's work done—the family business is sweeping fallen stars from the surface of the moon so that it glows through all its phases, starting full and finishing crescent, reflecting in the rippling sea. The stars make wonderful dry little musical clinks when swept together, not quite pottery, not quite glass. The boy is wise enough to know that however his family tells him to do things doesn't have to be the only way.
no subject
Hah. Thank you. I like sharing things I like. I realize that's the rationale for almost all of the internet (the remainder is sharing things you hate), but I'm glad it works for other people as well as me.
and I felt so disappointed about the second: I would have liked it to be all about the handsome Red Baron.
He was a supporting character! The hero is the traditionally haunted, self-doubting Eric Wells, who as a child in the first invasion froze in the street under a Martian tripod's boiling green glare and saw his parents die before his eyes, saving him—naturally he thinks of himself as a coward and the rest of the characters keep reminding him that he was ten. Every time his surname was mentioned,
If you want a crazy piece of anime with brilliantly tweaked historical figures all in the same plotline, fortunately we have the Read or Die OVA. A pair of friends showed it to me years ago and I am still occasionally seized with the impulse to run through rooms shouting, "I AM OTTO LILIENTHAL!"
. . . It'll make sense in context.
But you make the awful sound funny.
It's the schadenfreude that does it!
Your write-up of Dimensions: a Line, a Loop, a Tangle of Threads is intriguing; I'll see if I can get it on interlibrary loan maybe.
It's seriously the best time-travel film I've seen since Primer (2004). Safety Not Guaranteed is in many ways a completely different genre's take on the idea of recovering lost time, but the results in both cases are things I really like.
What's La Luna like?
Very gentle, almost like something by Tomie dePaola. It's not silent, but it's not in real language either: the boy's father and grandfather argue constantly in Italian-sounding Peanuts-adult mutternoise, disputing everything—which angle their boy should wear his new cap at, which tool he should use to get the night's work done—the family business is sweeping fallen stars from the surface of the moon so that it glows through all its phases, starting full and finishing crescent, reflecting in the rippling sea. The stars make wonderful dry little musical clinks when swept together, not quite pottery, not quite glass. The boy is wise enough to know that however his family tells him to do things doesn't have to be the only way.
Thanks again for sharing the marathon.
You are very welcome.