The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent - Blog Posts

i am NOT off my pedro pascal insanity yet. any time i watch anything he's in i feel like winona ryder when she's all "here he is telling me about his poor dead mother and all i can think about is his hands unbuttoning my dress." joel miller im sorry i was looking at your biceps when your daughter died. maybe you could call me 'baby' too... also sorry about gnawing on my knuckles and screeching in deranged hunger when you were torturing a guy. oberyn martell is talking about the tragic death of his sister and i am NOT listening. let's make out.

𝙥𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙨 :)

din: “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥.” - mirrors by justin timberlake

javier: “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.” - getaway car by taylor swift

joel: “𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱. 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯. 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.” - right where you left me by taylor swift

javi: “𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦.” - miss americana and the heartbreak prince by taylor swift

whiskey: “𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶.” - if this was a movie by taylor swift

Pedro Pascal as JAVI GUTIERREZ in the IGN TUWOMT review trailer

WIP: Thelma + Louise Trailer

I've started work on our new "In Cold Blood" Series for Pedge's Bookshop. It's gonna be a ten part series so we're feeling a little overwhelmed. Lol. Progress with my health journey, but lots of big feels over here. Pedge has finally come out of hiding after....THE EPISODE...but we realized that it's so comforting to join a television audience and fictional characters in our mutual mourning this Sunday at LOU. Feeling a little fragile over here, so I'm gonna get my "Thelma and Louise" on for Pedge's Cinema. Probably just a little 5k when Javi and J go on a road trip around the Amalfi Coast on a hunt for professional adventure. Gonna need something light after all this dark....

*thanks @dornish-queen for the UWOMT footage

Pedge's Cinema; All About Eve

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I have been doubly inspired, writing the sequel for Pedge's Cinema; All About Eve. It was fun to take this coloring page and overlay it on some of Pedro's favorite movie posters. There are several more installments on the horizon, I hope you will enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Javi's Afterglow

A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book :) The last week has been so great for me personally. After six months of health challenges I'm finally starting to make some progress because of my own advocacy. But that also led to voicing uncomfortable conversations with friends and professionals, and that's tough. Lost a best friend. Paused a job. Pedge and I feel some stories ending, but I don't know which roads I'm excited to take alone. Maybe that can be the exciting part. With the end of every journey comes the start of a new one, and I've sat at home for long enough. Javi knows how to take the big swings, and so do I...

I've found elements of the POC Tumblr discussion very interesting, and as a queer Jewish woman there are some specific ways I want to celebrate and recalibrate. The first time I posted this artwork the color scheme was....off. It wasn't intentional, but somehow I didn't quite capture our Chilean sun-god and it kept annoying me. So I re-did it, and included one of my favorite Javi fics I've written for the Afterglow Series (#irony).

Let us all continue to fully experience Love to the best of our ability. And as Javi would say, "Whether you like it or not, you have a gift; and that gift brings light and joy to an increasingly… dark and broken world! And to turn your back on that gift is to turn your back on the… entire human race!".

And Pedge definitely feels that.

The Trailer; All About Eve

Trailer: Inspired by the @auteurdelabre VHS Club, we are going to deconstruct these favorite movies and write some analogous fics taboot. Javi will be our theatrical custodian, but other Pedro Boys might join us for cameo appearances....

Concessions Stand: Don't forget to grab your sweet treat before heading into Pedge's Cinema. Check out "The Unbearable Weight of Perfection" by @wardenparker which should fit the bill nicely....

Triggers: This was a lot more complicated than I realized; spoilers for "All About Eve" (dialogue usage), no smut but romantic situations, discussion of ageism/misogyny, male infantilism if you squint (?)...

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5k

The week of acclimation had blearily raced past in happy contentment, and most of that was due to your newfound friendship with Javi. Italy was a close second. Since that first fateful encounter at the local movie house, you and Javi had become fast friends. Setting up a happy rapport of tourism and conversation had motivated the entirety of your summer stay. Every single morning, Javi arrived with two espressos, occasionally befriended by the local pastry options and after reviewing the evening movie choices, Javi would whisk you to the first of many cinematic locations. Visiting Venice and hearing about “Three Coins In the Fountain”. Touring the Vatican and talking about “Roman Holiday”. And enjoying gelato while Javi waxed philosophical about the Italian centered Nicholas Cage movie “Time to Kill”…which was actually about Ethiopia. Your friendship was like something out of a movie, and you relished every morsel of it. But this had done nothing to prepare you for the start of your Summer Internship. Having flitted away this “week of preparation” you found yourself on the doorstep of your next excited academic exploration, with little to no idea of what it might entail.

“I think we should take the students to all of these important cinematic locations!” Javi exclaimed, plopping down on the living room couch and beating clouds of dust out of the nearby pillows. Coughing and sputtering in allergic response, you opened the nearby veranda windows to the sunlight of the day.

“Are you my newfound TA for these events?” you jested, sipping your espresso tentatively as Javi had already inhaled his.

“Absolutely! Would you like that for your first day of class, Principessa? You don’t have to tell me how nervous you are…” Javi pouted, drawing the pillow up to him like a baby he was trying to cuddle. You stomach lurched with excited anticipation. You WERE nervous to meet the students and begin classes, but you were also excited to be working with your colleagues and gaining artistic insight into the rich history of cinema and storytelling.

“That’s VERY sweet of you Javi, but I know you have your big meeting tomorrow. I don’t want you to miss it…”.

“Are you talking about my very important industry meeting with international superstar and personal friend, Nicholas Cage?” Javi’s smile delightfully curled at his lips as you sat across from him on the couch, playfully propping your feet up on his lap.

“Oh I’m sorry, are you friends with THE Nick Cage?” you taunted, poking him slightly in the stomach and watching him crumple with embarrassment.

“Don’t tease me Principessa, we’re just meeting on the Skype. Besides, I’m still waiting for you to read our screenplay. I want all of your thoughts on the narrative quality of our story. Of course, Nicholas Cage will star” Javi’s eyes widened to an imploring gravitas as you shook your head with incredulity.

“I AM excited to read it Javi, but you haven’t given me half a moment! We’ve been bouncing from one tourist attraction to another…not that I’m complaining” you observed, rubbing your calves mournfully from all the walking Europe seemed to motivate.

“Would you like for me to recite it, right now?” he questioned, reaching over to massage the base of your foot, before you dissolved into a fit of laughter at the tickling sensation.

“I kind of hate to say this, but I think you need to go away for the next few hours. I need to plan my curriculum, organize my collegiate schedule for colleague introductions and…apparently read a screenplay this afternoon” you launched a pillow good-naturedly at Javi’s head as he began to sulk.

“But we have not yet been to the Trevi Fountain!” Javi lamented, collapsing against the couch dramatically and closing his eyes forlornly. “Perhaps we should watch “La Dolce Vita” this evening for our cinematic selection?”.

“Ah, no, no, no! You promised me we could begin with my teaching curriculum, starting with the Hollywood classic, ‘All About Eve’” you threatened, poking Javi once again and eliciting a small growl of protestation.

“I DO like Betty Davis, though she’s no Nicholas Cage” Javi retorted, setting a heavy hand on your upper thigh, as you attempted to stifle an unbidden shiver. “Very well Principessa, I will leave you to your cinematic studies, now appropriately fueled by the caffeinated nectar of the gods. What culinary selection would you prefer for this evening’s festivities?” Javi stood abruptly, towering over you at nearly six feet tall.

“You better bring the martinis and milkshakes, I’m going to procure a pizza from the trattoria down the street” you salivated, looking towards the kitchen with skepticism.

“Milkshakes?” Javi wondered, jaunting towards the door and grabbing his jacket from the nearby chair. “I will endeavor to bring the gelato…” he jovially saluted you, emphatically pointing to his screenplay situated on your kitchen counter and bouncing out through the foyer.

Javi was a ray of sunshine that never seemed to dull, his energy and iridescence was quite contagious. You only hoped all of your relationships would prove so fulfilling during this summer internship. If there was one thing you knew from your love of a masterpiece like “All About Eve”, professional challenges seemed to be hiding around every corner, and no sooner were friendships found, then they were immediately questioned. You prided yourself on your ability to ascertain someone’s intentionality, but would your colleagues be just as welcoming as someone like Javi? Only time could tell. You took your espresso over to the counter and picked up Javi’s screenplay as a curriculum amuse bouche. Let’s get to work…

The day passed quickly as you assembled your talking points for tomorrow’s class and skimmed Javi’s rough draft. You were delighted to discover it was quite good. Slightly meta, and self-deprecating. It would give Nicholas Cage a delightful opportunity to poke fun at his eccentric self. You couldn’t imagine anyone but Javi playing the autobiographical role, but Hollywood would probably find some young 20 something to play the 40 something and call it a day. Pausing to grab a fresh margarita pizza from the local trattoria you caught Javi walking up to your villa, grocery bag in hand.

“Bona note, Principessa!” Javi sang out, as the children raced past, chasing a futbol down the cobblestoned street. “I have returned with flowers, gelato and vodka, the holy triumvirate!” he greeted you with the traditional European kiss across both cheeks as the blush heightened across your freckled face. “We have much to discuss!”

You smiled with anticipation as Javi immediately launched into a descriptive analysis of the screenplay, drawing your attention to several of the analogies you hadn’t noticed. You had just queue’d the dusty DVD to start playing “All About Eve” as Javi synopsized.

“And so you can see how the relationships ARE similar. The protege, desperately desiring validation. Surviving in a world of distrust, ambition and greed. Not knowing where to turn and feeling that youth slipping away like time itself…” Javi gestured dramatically before eyeing a few of his own sun-soaked wrinkles with skepticism. “So many insecurities in our 40’s…” he sighed, raising a glass of vodka infused gelato before settling further into the couch after dinner.

“You’ve really written something marvelous for Nicholas Cage to star in” you agreed, toasting Javi’s milkshake martini concoction with curiosity. “Is that how your friendship really came about?” you questioned, as the memorable soundtrack by Alfred Newman lilted in the background.

“That is for me to know, and you to discover! What is cinema, if not ILLUSION?!” Javi bellowed, pinching at your leg flirtatiously and smiling broadly. “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night!”

The voice of George Sanders intoned in the background,

“To those of you who do not read, attend the theater, listen to unsponsored radio programs, or know anything of the world in which you live, it is perhaps necessary to introduce myself. My name is Addison DeWitt. My native habitat is the theater. In it, I toil not, neither do I spin. I am a critic and commentator. I am essential to the theater. Margo Channing is a star of the theater. She made her first stage appearance at the age of four in Midsummer Night's Dream. She played a fairy and entered, quite unexpectedly, stark naked. She has been a star ever since. Margo is a great star, a true star. She never was or will be anything less or anything else”.

“Betty Davis is quite nearly as big a star as Nicholas Cage” Javi whispered beside you, munching on the final piece of pizza. You smiled quietly, relishing his artistic obsession. You would have thought he would demand cinematic silence, but Javi’s movie enthusiasm was often as unbridled as his general lust for life.

“She must have learned a lot from his pantheon of work” you scoffed as Javi gently nudged you in the side with his elbow, shushing you ineffectively.

“Think me cynical, if you like, but the cynicism you refer to, I acquired the day I discovered I was different from little boys! Bill's thirty-two. He looks thirty-two. He looked it five years ago, he'll look it twenty years from now. I hate men” you moved your mouth in conjunction with Betty Davis as she lamented the joys of industry aging. “I'm not twenty-ish, I'm not thirty-ish. Three months ago I was forty years old. Forty. Four O. That slipped out. I hadn't quite made up my mind to admit it. Now I suddenly feel as if I've taken all my clothes off.”

God, you loved this movie. You looked over at Javi, his eyes shining affectionately as the screen flickered light across his joyful face. A fellow afficianado. “You know, if you wanted to come by after your meeting tomorrow I could use the help. I AM actually a little nervous” you admitted, looking down at your gelato hesitantly.

“Oh Principessa, I would love to!” Javi met your eyes with encouragement. “You are already supporting me in my cinematic endeavors, I would also love to support yours!” he beamed.

You snuggled up beside him, soaking in the exposition by Joseph Mankiewicz;

“The theatre. The theatre. What book of rules say the theatre exists only within some ugly buildings crowded into one square mile of New York City? Or London? Do you wanna know what the theatre is? A flea circus. Also opera. Also rodeos, carnivals, ballets, Indian tribal dances, Punch and Judy, a one-man band, all theatre. Wherever there's magic and make-believe and an audience, there's theatre. Donald Duck, Ibsen and The Lone Ranger. Sarah Bernhardt and Betty Grable, all theatre. You don't understand them all. You don't like them all. Why should you? The theatre's for everybody, you included, but not exclusively. So, don't approve or disapprove. It may not be your theatre, but it's theatre for somebody, somewhere.”

“Did you know that the Mankiewicz brothers were both famous for their literary ability?” you whispered, as Javi remained quietly at your side. “Herman Mankiewicz gained notoriety for Citizen Kane…”. You paused, surprised by Javi’s uncharacteristic silence. Eve Harrington, the antagonist of the movie continued on;

“If there's nothing else, there's applause. I've listened backstage to people applaud. It's like - like waves of love coming over the footlights and wrapping you up. Imagine, to know every night that different hundreds of people love you. They smile, their eyes shine, you've pleased them. They want you. You belong. Just that alone is worth anything”.

“You’ve got to give it to her, she is DEFINITELY passionate, if not unscrupulous” you teased, waiting for Javi’s retort and hearing none. You looked over at Javi to see if he had fallen asleep, but his countenance had taken on an uncharacteristic solemnity that concerned you. “Hey, you okay over there, Shakespeare?” you sat up slightly, watching his brow furrow with consternation.

“Oh. Um, yes, forgive me principessa, just….thinking” he muttered, gripping his knees fixedly and staring at the television screen. Had you done something wrong? Maybe he didn’t want to cuddle on the couch, but wasn’t saying so. You scooted a few inches away, drawing your hands into your lap with disappointment. Glancing at his side profile you watched his Adam’s apple bob tensely as he swallowed hard. What was going on? Betty Davis monologued,

“So many people know me. I wish I did. I wish someone would tell me about me, outside of my own notoriety. What’s in a name anyhow? What is it, besides something spelled out in light bulbs, I mean - besides something called a temperament, which consists mostly of swooping about on a broomstick and screaming at the top of my voice? Infants behave the way I do, you know. They carry on and misbehave - they'd get drunk if they knew how - when they can't have what they want, when they feel unwanted or insecure or unloved”.

“I have to go!” Javi bolted upright suddenly, as you confusedly paused the movie.

“Okayeeeee….are you alright? Do you need me to…?”

“Absolutely not! I mean…it’s time for me to go!” Javi grabbed his jacket lying on the coffee table and gave you a quick peck on both cheeks before nearly running out the door. If it wasn’t so concerning, it might be comedic, as he nearly tripped over his own shoes, farcically wrestling into his evening jacket and flinging the door open. “See you tonight! I mean tomorrow. Thank you for a lovely evening principessa…” and he was out the door.

How strange. You were often apt to conclude that you had somehow misread the situation, but your instincts told you that something had shifted. Was he suddenly embarrassed about his screenplay? It wasn’t perfectly formed, but it was quite good. Maybe you hadn’t offered enough encouragements. You shrugged your shoulders doubtfully, resuming the movie and trying to set your quandaries to one side. You were anxious about class tomorrow—maybe Javi was growing similarly trepidatious about his industry meeting with Nicholas Cage. You sighed defeatedly, trying to release the growing tension in your shoulders and neck. If only real life could be as straightforward as the movies…

Hearing your high heels echo in the lecture hall you tried to conjure the confidence and stage presence of Betty Davis as you read her scintillating observations of women in the performing arts industry,

“Funny business, a woman's career - the things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them again when you get back to being a woman. That's one career all females have in common, whether we like it or not: being a woman. Sooner or later, we've got to work at it, no matter how many other careers we've had or wanted. And in the last analysis, nothing's any good unless you can look up just before dinner or turn around in bed, and there he is. Without that, you're not a woman. You're something with a French provincial office or a book full of clippings, but you're not a woman. Slow curtain, the end”.

Your voice hung in the air as about 20 students gazed back at you with enchantment. Betty Davis you were NOT, but you were delighted to see the cinematic enthusiasm of your summer students.

“And what do we gather from the character’s steely diatribe against society’s requirement of the female persuasion?” you asked, noticing a shadowy figure sneak in the back of the lecture hall and silently take a seat. Oooh, maybe it was someone from the administration, you’d better be on your best behavior. “I think it’s incredibly prescient, given its context in the "Golden Age", you formed quotation marks with your fingers “…and recognizing society’s grab for power, dominance and greed at all costs. Even to the exclusion of the personhood of the human” you debated, returning to your notes for the classroom agenda. “Let’s move on to the topic of social manipulation and professional ambition” you noted, referencing your power point presentation. You clicked on the graphic of the character Addison Dewitt,

“That I should want you at all, suddenly strikes me as the height of improbability. But that, in itself, is probably the reason. You're an improbable person, Eve, and so am I. We have that in common. Also, our contempt for humanity and inability to love, and be loved, insatiable ambition, and talent. We deserve each other”.

The figure in the back of the room shifted slightly in their seat with discomfort. You hoped you were making a good impression. “The character of Addison Dewitt is a literary metaphor for the dominating ambition that seems to drive, not only those in the performance industry, but in a capitalistic society at large” you tried to use as much flowery language as possible. This internship was a golden ticket of sorts, and you were anxious to demonstrate your academic prowess. You referenced the next clip, eliciting a vocal response from your audience as Addison slapped Eve across the face;

“-We are all busy little bees, full of stings, making honey day and night. Aren't we honey? -Sounds more like the mark of a true killer: sleep tight, rest easy, and come out fighting. -I’m sure you mean something by that, Addison, but I don't know what. -I am nobody's fool, least of all yours. -It’s important right now that we talk, killer to killer. -Champion to champion. -After tonight, you will belong to me. -Belong to you - why, that sounds medieval, something out of an old melodrama! (slap) -Now, remember, as long as you live, never to laugh at me - at anything or anyone else, but never at me.”

The class tittered with tension and awkward laughter. “The relationship between Addison and Eve is hardly romantic, but more so qualifies as a means to an end. How do you think that contrasts with the other relationships such as Karen and Lloyd; Margo and Bill?” Shifting to the next power point slide, the character of Bill reprimanded Margo in a lover’s spat,

“-As it happens, there are particular aspects of my life to which I would like to maintain sole and exclusive rights and privileges. Like….you. -That might be my cue to take you in my arms and reassure you. But I'm not going to - I'm too mad. Darling, there are certain characteristics for which you are famous, on stage and off. I love you for some of them, in spite of others. I haven't let those become too important. They're part of your equipment for getting along in what is laughingly called our environment. You have to keep your teeth sharp - all right - but I will not have you sharpen them on me, or on Eve! -You know, there isn't a playwright in the world who could make me believe this would happen between two adult people. -Perhaps I’m not a good enough director to salvage our scene, but you must be a good enough actress. There never was, and there never will be another like you.”

The hum of the projector warmed the already infused summer air as you wiped your forehead delicately, hearing the silhouetted figure clear their voice loudly in the background. You noticed their hand raised and delightedly called on them. “Is there any hope for her at all?” the voice rang out from the back of the lecture hall, bouncing off the walls and around the interior of your heart. Javi! He made it! You wondered how his industry meeting had progressed before responding…

“Well the cinematic ending is rather ambiguous, but I think Margo Channing has a vibrant life ahead of her! Finding romantic fulfillment with Bill Simpson and recognizing her individualized self-worth is probably the best revenge one could get…”

“I mean….Eve. Is there any hope for Eve?” Javi’s voice cracked as the class began to turn in their seats to locate the hidden voice in the background. You paused, somewhat concerned if Javi were okay, there seemed to be a note of tension in his voice. Perhaps he needed some encouragement after his Skype discussion.

“Oh! That much is up for interpretation. Addison does encourage Eve to place her accolades and awards where a heart should be. But the enigma continues as we see her potential protege, already usurping Eve’s meteoric rise to fame. Ladies and gentleman allow me to introduce my friend and colleague Javi Gutierrez. An aspiring screenwriter, cinematic aficionado and close friends with international superstar, Nick Cage!” you really laid it on thick, but wanted to support Javi however you could. The class immediately burst into applause as you finished the lecture. “In closing, let’s continue to analyze the ramifications of this cinematic classic. The way that it questions industry ambition, greed, power and the double standard brought about by professional misogyny. I haven’t even touched on the queer subtext, sophisticated campy dialogue or dramedy hybrid, but that will be another discussion for another time. Don’t forget to start watching our list of classic and contemporary cinema covered in the syllabus such as “East of Eden”, “Psycho”, “Fanny and Alexander”, “Deer Hunter” and more. I’ll see you next week, excellent work! Class dismissed!” There was a smattering of applause as the students excitedly talked and exited the classroom straining to get a better view of your enigmatic guest, as he walked down the stairs to the front of the room. You gathered your books and notes, the projector humming vibrationally next to you and casting dramatic beams of light around the room theatrically.

“You are a vision!” Javi exclaimed, kissing you across both cheeks and beaming with pride. But his eyes seemed to be shining with more than just satisfaction, as you caught a sheen of emotion dotting his countenance and a deep furrow to his brow.

“Aw, thanks Javi, it means the world that you made it today, I can’t tell you…” you ventured, squeezing his forearm with approval. “How’d everything go with the meeting? Was Nick pleased with your progress?” Javi’s face immediately fell with defeat, as he turned his back to you with a small whimper.

“Let us focus on your victory of the day, rather than my own…” his voice dramatically intoned, gathering up more of your books despite your protestations. “I am anxious to enjoy our dinner and movie selection of the night” and he immediately headed out the door amidst your confused looks.

What in the world was bothering him?

It had taken some coaxing, but on the walk back to your villa, Javi had slowly started to relax. You couldn’t be sure what was plaguing him, but after a steady stream of discussion and joking, he nearly seemed back to normal as you both entered the apartment laughing jovially. You were just about to suggest an evening movie when you caught Javi’s crestfallen expression as he fixed his eyes on his screenplay sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Alright, out with it!” you exclaimed, as Javi’s face crumpled with emotion, his lip quivering ever so slightly with concern.

“I cannot continue” he dramatically professed, histrionically dropping the books and flinging himself face first onto the living room couch with chagrin. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, picking up the screen play and carefully sitting atop his lower back as he sniffled quietly.

“It seems to me this couch could use some more padding” you tried to tease, as Javi’s weight shifted beneath you with embarrassment.

“Would you taunt a man whose very existence is dissolving into a heap of despair and angst?” Javi’s voice mumbled into the pillows disdainfully. You pouted with concern, moving to the floor and running your hands lightly through his curly hair. European men could be so dramatic, but something was obviously bothering him.

“Is this about the meeting with Nick?” you offered, before Javi pushed himself up revealing his red-rimmed eyes and crimson hue’d nose.

“YES this is about my online meeting with international superstar and close personal friend Nicholas Cage!” he nearly cried before collapsing back onto the couch with despair.

You bit back a smile of skepticism before starting to rub large circles over Javi’s back and nodding in support. “He didn’t like it?” you whispered, dreading the response. Javi paused before mumbling into the pillow;

“He loved it”.

You stopped your ministrations, sitting back on your heels with disbelief. “Well of course he loved it! It’s absolutely amazing!” you giggled, looking at the prostrate man before you. “Wait, so…what’s the problem then?” you waited with anticipation watching Javi’s back rise and fall with a tense breath.

“I believe…” Javi’s voice wilted under the oppression before meeting your eyes with gravitas, “…I believe I have become….Eve Harrington”. He threw himself back onto the couch as you blinked dumbly before him.

“I’m sorry….what?” you tried to stifle a laugh, fingering the pages of the screenplay in your hands. Artists were so delightfully hyperbolic.

“It is not funny, Principessa!” Javi declared, sitting up abruptly and kicking your foot with seriousness. You nodded solemnly, hugging the screenplay to your chest tightly. “You must understand the sincere anguish that is permeating my very soul in this moment.”

You quietly considered his admission. “How absolutely horrible, you must get confused for Anne Baxter all the time” you deadpanned, waiting for Javi’s explanation. FINALLY, his veneer cracked, as he sheepishly collapsed back onto his side with petulance.

“It is possible I might be over-reacting” he acquiesced, poking the screenplay with one large forefinger. “Did you actually like it?” he whispered, his eyes a sea of innocence.

“I absolutely did” you confessed, leafing through the pages with delight. “It’s campy and genre-bending. A total tour-de-force for Nicholas Cage, and a wonderful commentary on the self-referential nature of Hollywood and artistry in general. It actually reminds me of "All About Eve" in some ways…” you admitted before Javi’s face screwed up with anxiety. “But not because you’re turning into Eve Harrington!”

Javi sighed with uneasiness, as you sat down next to him, attempting to heft his body to an upright position. “I’m doooooomed for all eternity! I have sullied the iridescent name of cinematic powerhouse and intimate artistic comrade, Nicholas Cage, with my flagrant attempt to displace his greatness! As though that were even possible….” Javi whimpered with a flourish, collapsing his heavy weight against you and tilting his head to your shoulder.

“Oh my. This is really quite serious” you nodded. “I had no idea you had such gargantuan screenwriting prowess. On the surface, you just seemed like a loving fan who idealized their theatrical hero. And now, as per your observations, I can clearly see how maniacal you have become. It’s just too bad Nick Cage is not capable of seeing through your facade” you teased, taking Javi’s large hand in yours and stroking it tenderly.

He sniffled thoughtfully at your remarks. “Nicholas Cage is the paragon of dramatic virtue” he observed huffily, drawing your interlaced hands up to his chest and heaving a hefty sigh. “Perhaps you are right, Principessa. But what of the playwright Mr. Richards? He intimates that artists should know their place and avoid self-aggrandizement at all costs!”

You screwed up your face in remembrance, trying to access the referenced cinematic moment. “Javi, he says something about actors taking artistic liberties with words that are not their own. If anything, that quote refers to Nick Cage, not you the playwright…” you argued, as Javi apparently stopped breathing momentarily. “Maybe you could listen to the words Nick is actually saying to you, because they seem to be nothing but supportive”.

Javi turned to face you with a new beam of enlightenment gracing his sparkling face. “I am not attempting to usurp and displace theatrical legend and creative genius, Nicholas Cage?” he whispered, nearly nose to nose with you now.

“I’m not sure you could, sweetie” you offered, gripping his hand tightly with encouragement.

“I have not turned into an attractive but maniacal masculine version of the literary character Eve Harrington and forever damaged our burgeoning professional and personal relationship?” he blinked skeptically, looking for any minuscule traces of hesitation in your micro-expressions.

“That would be quite the talent, but no, I’m fairly certain not”.

Javi’s face burst into a radiant smile as he collapsed back against the couch, finally satisfied, and breathing a sigh of relief. “And you really thought the screenplay was good?” he cast his eyes downward, avoiding your glance before you dipped your head lower still to catch his gaze.

“I really did. And so did Nick Cage” you smiled, kissing Javi lightly on the cheek as he blushed a deep crimson.

“Eccellente” he mouthed, stifling a small giggle of joy.

“Now, I wouldn’t mind another one of those gelato milkshake concoctions from last night. Are we watching another selection from my curriculum series? I haven’t even attempted “The Candyman”…or maybe “Poltergeist”?” you questioned.

“Principessa, I have had more than enough horrors for the evening!” Javi joked, kissing your hand with bravado before heading into the kitchen for ingredients. “Incidentally, I believe you agreed to watch one of my favorites at your earliest convenience….” his voice drifted in from the background.

“Javi, we already watching Paddington 2…” you whined, kicking off your heels and settling in for the night.

“A giant in the world of dramatic arts!” Javi bellowed from the kitchen before waxing philosophical. “But, of course, I am speaking of National Treasure 2, starring international film star and personal friend….”

You mouthed with his expected response, “Nicholas Cage”. Smiling quietly to yourself you listened to the melodic hum of Javi’s voice as you watched the children playing in the golden light of Italian dusk.

There are very few moments in life as good as this. Let's remember it. To each of us and all of us, never have we been more close, may we never be farther apart.

*roll credits

*@dornish-queen footage + Alfred Newman Soundtrack

Moody Movie Poster

Our main event is on the horizon! Stay tuned for our first full length feature film at Pedge's Cinema! Thanks to Naqmeh Art for the likeness! We are excited to deconstruct some of Pedge's Favorite Movies;

All About Eve Alien Thelma and Louise East of Eden Blade Runner

Pedge's Cinema The Trailer

Concessions Stand @iamasaddie is getting us ready for a true snack! See some of the fics we are going to be covering with Javi this awards season...

Triggers: profanity, alcohol consumption, lite flirtation, disastrous attempts at Italian, easy peezy we're just getting started...

Words: 2.6k

The landlady handed you an archaic looking key that was easily the size of a small brick. You half expected her to give you bottles that said “eat me” and “drink me” in Italian, but she merely snickered tossing her hands up with exasperation. “Idiota americano!” she muttered, not wholly under her breath, closing the ornate door behind her, leaving you alone in the somewhat crumbling apartment.

Guess you didn’t need Google Translate after all.

You looked down at your myriad of belongings, heaped into two large suitcases, and the somewhat dilapidated but charmingly rustic Italian apartment that smiled before you. You had arrived. After about 15 hours and one too many espressos, you found yourself at your Italian residence, anxious to start your teaching internship, yet even more enthusiastic about taking a shower. Finding yourself in your mid-forties, embarking on a summer adventure of this scope seemed an implausibility, as you rubbed at your lower back wincingly. As you shuffled slowly down the narrow hallway, you were exponentially grateful for the study abroad program at the college you had recently gained tenure at. Things were finally starting to amount to professional and personal solidity, so why did you still feel so lost? The bumbling taxi drive hadn’t helped, as you felt for the stale bag of airplane peanuts in your pocket. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. You’d been working with students your entire life and we’re finally exploring the international ways to bring creative techniques to life. But maybe your artistic eyes were somehow bigger than your metaphorical stomach. What were you even doing here? You opened the first door on the left, expecting it to be the water closet and were greeted by the imploring eyes of….a pigeon.

A bona fide pigeon. You blinked back and forth at one another curiously until an unexpected shriek from you caused your temporary flat mate to flutter haphazardly around the room, seeking immediate solace through the nearby open window. Sigh. Expect the unexpected. And, no toilet paper. Obviously. You felt around your pocket for the discarded cocktail napkin. Score. You could do this. Your path might not be clear, but you had earned your summer of adventure. All that remained was to take full advantage of the opportunity, and try to enjoy yourself in the process. Besides, weren’t pigeons a sign of Italian good luck? Maybe they needed to poop on you first. Heading him off at the pass, you quickly locked the window for good measure, taking stock of your surroundings. The shower was a dubious looking pipe that awkwardly found its way to a free standing bath tub. The ceiling of the water closet hovered about two feet above you, as you finally expressed gratitude for your diminutive stature. Finally, being short was working to your advantage, once you figured out how to use the faucets. You returned to your quest, shuffling down the hallway to the first door on the right, finding a queen sized, decorative bed frame showcasing the boudoir and more open windows. Luckily, there was no flora, fauna or fowl this time, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the picturesque view. Dragging your fingers lazily across the veil-like linens you gazed at the idyllic panorama before you. As though mirroring your cinematic dreams, the small Italian town stretched out before you, a winding fantasy of artisan shops, coffee, clotheslines and cobblestone.

What a view. Maybe you weren’t so lost after all.

Savoring the afternoon air, you sat cautiously on the pillowy mattress, a very thin layer of particle dust billowing in the sunlight. But nothing could stop you, as you nestled into the linens for your first nap. Any pigeons were welcome to join you.

A blurry feeling of disorientation greeted you, along with a melodic Italian argument, punctuated by puttering vespas. You blinked lazily at the dusky horizon, propping yourself up on your forearms. Your stomach immediately gurgled in response. You had given yourself several days to acclimate to your new Italian environment, before attending classes and symposiums, but hadn’t really considered what your first order of business would be. The stale bag of peanuts was holding little appeal, so you willed yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to tidy up. The apartment was slightly dilapidated and breezy, but the summer charm was already beginning to work its magic. You laid out your wardrobe on the bed before enjoying a luxurious shower, gazing forebodingly at the ceiling, as though it were about to crash down upon you. Just some getting used to. You looked around the small kitchenette, but only found a teaspoon of dried coffee grounds and what appeared to be some dried olives in the cabinet. Tomorrow’s task; find the nearest farmer’s market.

You had gone to inordinate lengths to make your phone internationally ready, but were already encountering difficulties. Other than a smattering of musical terms, you weren’t seriously proficient in Italian and were looking forward to honing your skills, as Duolingo had proven only conceptually effective. But that’s what this entire experience was about! Dipping your toes into the adventure of travel and mystery. You had tried to research this area of town, but could only find the local cinema listings which seemed to feature at least one movie in English. Clutching your chatty stomach with annoyance you slipped into a silky blouse and comfortable jeans. Stop overthinking and head out the door! Grab your Alice in Wonderland sized key and start exploring, woman! Smiling to yourself with chagrin, you checked for your Euro, passport and key, took a deep breath and closed the front door behind you. Ciao Bella!

It had been several decades since you had been to Italy, but your memory did not disappoint. Floating down the cobblestone streets, you were once again thankful to be wearing sneakers as you gazed at the nonnas bringing in their dried laundry and shouting at one another across the way. You were sure you stuck out like a sore thumb as you used your cell phone as a divining rod to arrive at the local cinema art house, patting yourself on the back. Surprised to discover your very limited geographical intuitions had actually served you, as you noticed the only English Film available blazing against the darkening sky;

PADDINGTON 2.

Alright, it wasn’t “La Dolce Vita”, but you were determined to give your stale packet of peanuts a run for its money, if this Italian cinema had anything resembling the Western definition of a snack. As per usual, the Italians were eons ahead of the United States, offering a sampling of pasta, wine and confections, which you unabashedly stocked up on. You sheepishly entered the small movie house, balancing an array of popcorn, snacks and wine, the latter of which was offered from a soda-like dispenser. Your international travels were already getting off to a GREAT start. You gazed around the room appraisingly, surprised to discover that you had the movie house COMPLETELY to yourself. 

Bellisima.

Indulgently plopping down in the absolute center of the room, you nearly squealed like a little girl when the projector clicked to life and the room darkened in response. This was only partially stifled when another figure peripherally entered your vision and began ascending the stairs. You weren’t overly concerned. Having visited Italy nearly 20 years ago, you had received more than your fair share of attention, but now, at 45 you were fairly certain you could blend into the background. It wasn’t until the curious stranger sat in the seat next to you that you glanced sideways with slight annoyance. Your heart immediately dropped at the sight of the standard Italian god that greeted you; well coifed, colorful, a curly mop of hair gelled into submission and a potent, but not disagreeable cologne that mixed with the heady smell of buttered popcorn. You weren’t sure why he had selected the seat immediately next to yours, but were momentarily distracted by his matching box of indulgent snacks. His face broke into an immediate grin as a handful of popcorn fell into your lap with his jostling.

“Popcorn, principessa?” he muttered, jamming a handful into his own mouth and licking the butter from his fingertips playfully. In another lifetime, you might have been irritated, but there was something immediately disarming about this man’s demeanor. You stalled, at the realization that he might not be Italian after all. Thankful he couldn’t view your blushing cheeks, you sputtered, 

“Oh I’m all set!” before wondering if he spoke English, and then realizing he was in the same movie as you. “Uh…par…parlare inglese?” you bumbled, spilling some Golia licorice into his lap in turn and grabbing at them haphazardly before flushing a dark shade of pink. “Scusi…”.

“Si!” he blurted out before wiping his hand embarrassingly over his face with chagrin. “I mean, yes!” He awkwardly grabbed your hand, shaking it emphatically and spilling still more popcorn over the floor and both of you. You both laughed good-naturedly as the movie was preceded by several Italian commercials you didn’t understand.  Settling into the gravitas of the cinematic experience, you quietly chewed your snacks, attempting to be demurely polite, but quite frankly you were starving. You were also immediately charmed by your unexpected movie date, as he uproariously laughed at the smallest jokes, nodding in agreement at the the most poignant dialogue. The snacks eventually discarded in satiation, you hadn’t expected the well of emotion towards the end of the movie, but that was nothing compared to your seat-mate. He was sobbing vociferously, his body quaking with emotion, when you finally reached over to tentatively pat him on the shoulder comfortingly.

“I…fucking…LOVE…this…movie…” he sniffled, between big gulps of air as you smiled knowingly to yourself. God, European men were so much more beautifully emotive than some of their Western counterparts. No wonder you had found yourself currently single in the States. You chanced a quick look at his left hand and found his wedding ring finger unoccupied, but internationally, did that even mean anything? Come on, woman, this isn’t “Only You”; get a grip. Just enjoy your new friendship and move on. You swiped at a few stray tears of your own before the lights gradually increased, leaving you both alone in the lightened movie house.

“Is that not the BEST movie you have ever seen? Without cinematic film star, Nicholas Cage, of course…” he oddly presumed, staring at you with saucer shaped eyes of warmth, a slight tinge of red dotting his cheeks at the corners.

“Uh…well, yes. Quite good, Much more emotional than I was anticipating” you admitted, shuffling your feet awkwardly.

“I feel the same way. It made me want to be a better man. I would even place it above towering films of cinematic greatness like “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”….or maybe even “National Treasure 2”” he observed dryly, taking in your inquisitive expression.

“National Treasure 2?” you repeated dumbly, blinking with curiosity at the tenure of your conversation. Who the hell was this guy?

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly bore you with my encyclopedic knowledge of the greatest actor, and my personal friend, Nick Cage” he blushed shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck with humility.

“You know Nick Cage?” you brightened, stumbling upon a fellow afficianado. You worked with artists all the time and loved discussing the creative process. That was the exact reason for your internship.

“Do you know him as well?” he turned his body to more fully face you, the fragrance of cologne intoxicating you slightly in response.

“Oh…certainly not. But I know OF him, he’s quite talented, and eccentric I believe…” you started before he launched into a cinematic info. dump.

“I find his artistic choices to be quite outlandish, but in a very stylized and curated execution…” as he began to wax theatrical for the next 20 minutes. You tried to remain focused on his discussion points, but you were equally distracted by his animated and appealing aesthetic, as much as the lateness of the hour. It wasn’t until you stifled a yawn and shivered slightly that he paused in his information monologue with a look of lamentation. “Oh, principessa, you are quite tired of my ramblings. Please, may I walk you home?”. He stood impressively above you, holding out his hand in inquiry.

You cleared your throat with some embarrassment, as the wine fueled evening crawled up the back of your neck with a seductive tickle. “Oh, certainly mister….?” you inquired, stumbling ever so slightly to your feet as he grabbed you protectively around the waist.

“Javi! You can call me Javi!” he intoned. You weren’t sure, but you thought he brushed a small, affectionate circle at your lower back, turning you towards the exit and guiding your steps. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it was a good idea to lead this stranger right to your door step, but you were even less sure you could make it there on your own, the inefficient osmosis of popcorn and wine happily buzzing inside you. Jet lag didn’t help. But the streets of Italy were warm and inviting, as children continued to play late into the night, and old men sat smoking cigarettes and drinking grappa.

You wrapped your arm warmly around his as he gripped you solidly around the waist. The combination of wine, jet lag and cobblestone streets was proving a challenge, but your newfound friend didn’t seem inconvenienced. If anything, he kept chirping about his favorite movies and inquiring about your own theatrical tastes. It was like something out of a movie, and you decided to give in to the romantic idealism, however short lived it might be.

“This is me” you blinked lazily, arriving at your apartment and happy to return to your queen sized bed. And doubly grateful for your new and unexpected friendship. Javi.

Javi beamed, a dazzling smile dotting his face as you unlocked the door hesitantly. “What time can I call on you tomorrow?” his question immediately poked you in the stomach as you nearly tripped over your own doorway.

“Wh-what?” you sputtered, butterflies immediately erupting in your abdomen and cascading into your fluttering heart. He looked back at you curiously, as you swayed slightly in the night air. “Uh…noon please” you found yourself saying, equally delighted and confused at the surprising turn of events.

“Excellent, we can continue our cinematic discussion, and I will bring my screenplay for your perusal” he stated matter-a-factly before leaning in confidently and kissing you just to the side of your lips, which curled in delight. You blushed at the welcome bristle of his beard as it tickled your face, before he pulled back slightly and inhaled pointedly. “Buona notte, principessa” he whispered before purposefully turning and jaunting down the cobblestone street, his arms swinging happily from side to side, as he disappeared round the corner as quickly as he had entered your evening.

You stared after him, not entirely convinced he wasn’t some sort of cinematic illusion himself. It wasn’t until noon the next day, as you blearily considered the friendly knock at the door that the realization began to dawn on you. Squinting into the sunlight, you gulped dryly at his reappearance, two espressos in hand, as he stood once again, on your doorstep. He seemed to lustfully drink in your disheveled head of hair and naked legs which peeked from beneath the large white t-shirt you had haphazardly settled into before bed.

“Javi?” you rasped, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and smiling dopily. It seemed your cinematic dreams had temporarily come to life.

“Buongiorno, principessa!” Javi beamed, shoving the espresso emphatically into your hand and downing his own in one shot. “What movie are we seeing today?” he beamed, removing his glasses and smiling broadly.

This might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship….

*Thanks @dornish-queen for the cool footage!

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