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PaperclipPerfector  13hr ago (text post)   615 thread views

Friday Fun Thread for April 24, 2026

Be advised: this thread is not for serious in-depth discussion of weighty topics (we have a link for that), this thread is not for anything Culture War related. This thread is for Fun. You got jokes? Share 'em. You got silly questions? Ask 'em.

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Transnational Media Thread

I am very tired after a long week of work. Any local art, music, film, etc you've been consuming from far-flung parts of the globe? Anime still doesn't count.

I haven't really mentioned Soviet media around here much, except for the time I wrote about my experience with Tarkovsky's Stalker a while back, but I've had a longstanding love affair with it. There's an inexplicable poetic, sometimes haunted desolation to a lot of Soviet art that really grabs me, and I find no other nation manages to capture this as well as the Russians do. The latest music I've been very into is a Soviet rock band named Kino; they found quite a bit of popularity in the Soviet Union but not quite so much outside of it, and their relevance in the global music scene has steeply declined ever since the founder and helmsman Viktor Tsoi died and the group disbanded. But the music is so very timeless, with some incredibly evocative lyrics and musicianship. Gruppa Krovi is a great introduction; it's a very strong and immediately likeable number that's probably Kino's best known song (and was my introduction to the group), but Spokoynaya Noch is their masterpiece and towers head and shoulders above the rest of their discography. It's a six-and-a-half minute long rock ballad that manages to craft the most potent atmosphere I've encountered in the genre, with some very poetic and abstract lyrics; I never tire of listening to it.

On another note, here is your regular daily dose of Sinoposting; I continue to be surprised at how much interesting stuff there is in China that is just completely internationally unknown. This time, I've been looking at their 20th century works of ink-wash animation, which are so very singular and unique I'm surprised that I barely ever hear about them. The project started in the 50s, when the state-funded Shanghai Animation Film Studio was tasked with creating cartoons for children, and the animators working there quickly started trying to create something that looked uniquely Chinese in the style of traditional painting. The technique they used to create their animations was unorthodox, and it's mostly secret even today, but apparently it was so laborious that according to one of the creators it was possible to create four "traditionally animated" films in the time that it took to make one in the ink-wash style. Such a style was really only viable in the days of socialist state funding and ownership, and after the market reforms of the Deng era this style declined due to the introduction of financial and commercial incentives. As such, there are only four "original" ink-wash animation films, and of these four probably the best and most refined is Feeling from Mountain and Water (1988), which is completely wordless and stunning. A close second for me is Buffalo Boy and his Flute (1963). Apparently ink-wash techniques have slowly made some resurgence in Chinese animation ever since then with the introduction of more modern animation techniques that made it more cost-effective to produce, but these early works have a very good vibe to them.

Kino is legendary, but I prefer to claim I like Zoopark more.

Kino and its sound have left too big of an influence on what is defined as "Russian rock". For several decades Russian rock scene was dominated by simple chords, minimal guitar effects, unstrained vocals, serious lyrics and a subtle sense of smug superiority that Viktor himself didn't have. Only The King and The Jester managed to shake up this swamp, but were too inimitable to change the scene overall.

Mike and Zoopark were bigger than that. He was always ready to mock the latest Eastern religious fad, write a song that was a blatantly transparent hornypost, or let his lead guitarist experiment with his new pedal instead of coming up with a tune. He loved rock music the way it was, he didn't think it had to be adapted to the mysterious Russian soul.

RIP Mike, you were James the brother of Jesus of Russian rock.

  • The Vanishing (ridiculously titled Spoorloos in their absurd meme language): gripping Dutch crime movie. Ending may or may not be somewhat frustrating, but it's grown on me.
  • Force Majeure: a fascinating study of women getting the ick.
  • No Other Choice: hilarious Korean movie about getting ahead in the lucrative field of paper manufacturing.
  • Caché: Kind of a mixed recommendation. Emotionally impactful, but overall slow paced and takes for granted that you agree with the woke premise.
  • A Separation: Iranian divorce movie. "Things can always get worse."

Force Majeure: a fascinating study of women getting the ick.

Great one-line summary. Women getting the ick and men failing shit tests.

Tomas reluctantly agrees the footage shows someone running, but is silent when Mats speculates that Tomas was running away so that he could come back and dig out his family later. As Fanny and Mats leave, Fanny suggests that she would expect Mats to react in the same way as Tomas. Mats is offended, and after arguing all night their relationship is changed for the rest of the trip.

C’mon Mats, (dis)agree and amplify was right there!

“What?! No way, honey, I’d run much faster than that slowass motherfucker.”

This seems as good a time as any to talk about my favourite Irish narrative films:

  • Intermission: a very dark comedy-drama from the 2000s. Using the "hyperlink cinema" style popularised by Tarantino, it follows a diverse cast of Dubliners whose lives intersect in surprising ways. Features a young Cillian Murphy (of Oppenheimer fame) and Colin Farrell, among many others.
  • A Date for Mad Mary: a present-day comedy-drama. The titular character is released from prison and returns to her hometown, where she must scramble to locate a date to bring with her to her best friend's wedding. Seána Kerslake's starring turn is mercurial and mesmerising. Probably my favourite Irish film after Intermission above.
  • The Wind that Shakes the Barley: excellent war film depicting the Irish war of independence and ensuing civil war. Makes no effort to portray the former conflict in remotely even-handed terms (the atrocities committed by British soldiers are depicted gruesomely, approaching torture porn; while every Brit shot by the Irish goes down without a drop of blood spilled). The director, outspoken English socialist Ken Loach, does not disguise his thesis statement (that Irish independence was a missed opportunity to establish a socialist utopia, instead of just exchanging English landlords for Irish), which I disagree with. Still a cracking and powerful film for all that. Also starring a young Cillian Murphy, along with several actors you might recognise from their later turns in Game of Thrones.
  • Michael Collins: a film depicting the same events as TWtStB, but following the mastermind of Ireland's guerrilla warfare campaign, the titular Michael Collins, portrayed by Liam Neeson (Schindler's List). An invigorating and blood-pumping war film, whose only significant weakness is the decision to cast Julia Roberts as Collins's love interest, when she neither looks Irish nor is equipped to do a persuasive Irish accent. (One day I'd like to do a fan edit which cuts her out entirely: I genuinely think it would improve the film substantially.) Aidan Gillen just about manages, and Alan Rickman's turn as Eamonn deValera is surprisingly convincing, aided by his striking resemblance to the genuine article.
  • An Cailín Ciúin (also released as The Quiet Girl, a literal translation of its Irish title): a period drama set in the 1980s, adapted from the novella Foster by Claire Keegan. It follows a young girl sent to live with her aunt and uncle for the summer, as her parents aren't really capable of looking after her (or themselves, for that matter). Patient, carefully observed, quietly devastating: you will be shedding tears. Notable for the majority of the dialogue being in the Irish language.
  • Black '47: a film about the Great Famine that hit Ireland in the 1840s. But this is no depressing period drama where nothing happens and then everyone dies, no – this is a Western, with six shooters and love-to-hate villains and horseback riding! Tremendous fun. When I saw it in the cinema, I remember thinking that this was the best way to get modern audiences interested in an overlooked part of history: meet them halfway, with a legitimately entertaining crowd-pleaser that incorporates history organically into its story. Bit strange that they cast an Australian actor to play the Irish protagonist, but sure look. Also features Hugo Weaving (Agent Smith, Elrond) and Barry Keoghan; I'd honestly forgotten the latter was in it, which shows what kind of impression it made.
  • In Bruges: A crime comedy-drama set in the titular Belgian city, starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson and Ralph Fiennes. From the trailers I was expecting a Tarantino-esque black comedy with brutal violence played for laughs. It's kind of that, but also a surprisingly dark film depicting its protagonist processing guilt in a psychologically realistic way. The tonal shifts from wacky humour to morbid pathos might come off as a little jarring, but on the whole I'd still say the movie works. Also notable for featuring the best discussion of the logistics of the imminent race war I've ever seen outside of – well, this site, I suppose.
  • Adam and Paul: a Brechtian comedy-drama depicting one day in the life of two heroin addicts in Dublin. The debut by director Lenny Abrahamson, who later went on to direct Room starring Brie Larson. Years since I've seen it, but it made a big impression on me, especially the ending.

Honourable mentions:

  • Man About Dog: if you want to watch an extremely silly, juvenile, vulgar comedy film in the vein of American Pie or There's Something About Mary, this is the one for you.
  • The General: a perfectly passable crime biopic depicting the Irish gangster Martin Cahill, portrayed by Brendan Gleeson.
  • The Commitments: a charming, good-natured and intermittently funny musical comedy which practically every Irish person over the age of thirty has seen at one point or another. The title of the very first post on my blog is a paraphrased quote from it, which features at the very beginning of the article.
  • Small Things Like These: another recent adaptation of a Claire Keegan novella. While well-acted and presented, it didn't quite work from me, and something about it felt too self-congratulatory in the same way that Mad Men was sometimes accused of during its run (as Mark Greif put it, "an unpleasant little entry in the genre of Now We Know Better"). Yes, the Magdalene laundries treated young women terribly: there were theatrically released studio films making that point more than twenty years before this one came out. We get it.
  • In America: a shamelessly sentimental tear-jerker, it's a semi-autobiographical depiction of an Irish family who migrate to the US in the 1980s following the death of one of their children.
  • The Butcher Boy: an utterly bonkers black comedy, based on the novel of the same name by Patrick McCabe. Go into it blind. Nothing I say can prepare you for it.

Now on to the bad:

  • Halal Daddy: the single worst Irish film I've ever watched from start to finish. A waste of a talented cast. While watching it, you feel like the screenwriter didn't even want to write the screenplay, and just assembled a Jenga tower of clichés to pad out the running time.
  • Dollhouse: if Halal Daddy didn't clinch it, this would be the worst Irish film I've ever watched in full. Jim Sheridan (In America, above) has made many successful films; his daughter Kirsten attempted to ride his coattails to nepo baby-dom, to appalling results. This largely improvised (hence directionless and unmotivated) film features actors who later went on to bigger and better things: Seána Kerslake, mentioned above, and Jack Reynor, who appeared in the Transformers films. It's an utter waste of their talents. Nothing in the film is earned, none of the actors playing working-class Dubs are remotely convincing, and at the end you just feel annoyed and cheated. It comes as little surprise to me that, in the nearly fifteen years since this one came out, Kirsten Sheridan has yet to direct another film.
  • The Guard: So bad that not even Don Cheadle could make me stick around. I left after the first twenty minutes.
  • Perrier's Bounty: Likewise.
  • Seven Psychopaths: A marginal example given its primarily American cast and setting, but I'm including it as it was written and directed by Martin McDonagh (who wrote and directed In Bruges, above) and stars Colin Farrell. What a tiresome tryhard movie, trying to do the meta self-referential thing in a way that's even more annoying than usual. I understand that even McDonagh has more or less disowned it, and he was right to do so.
  • The Banshees of Inisherin: The fourth feature-length by Martin McDonagh, adapted from his play of the same name, this one reunites Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson from In Bruges. It's a period drama set on the titular island amidst the civil war of the 1920s. I have absolutely no idea what the point of it was supposed to be, none of the characters' motivations make a lick of sense* and McDonagh's attempts to draw parallels between the civil war and the principal characters' deteriorating relationship (absent from the original play) are sophomoric, historically dubious, and irrelevant. Truthfully, I don't even know what kind of emotional reaction it was aiming for: when I saw it in the cinema, there were a few polite chuckles in the first half, while the entire audience was dead silent for the second half, and it didn't even feel like the film was trying to be funny. But my sister saw it in the cinema, and told me that the entire audience was howling with laughter throughout, which seems insane to me. Also features Barry Keoghan in a supporting role in which he is entirely unconvincing. For McDonagh, that's two Ls and one W – unless Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri turns out to be amazing, I'm comfortable saying In Bruges was a fluke.
  • Sing Street: I've heard director John Carney's film Once is really quite good, but have yet to get around to seeing it, perhaps in protest of how inescapable its promotional single "Falling Slowly" was in the two or three years following its release. But having seen two of his other films (this one and Begin Again), I'm unpersuaded. While watching both films, I experienced this horrible uncanny valley feeling that Carney has never actually met another human being, and that everything he knows about the human condition, he gleaned from watching films by other, more talented directors. (See also: Nolan, Christopher.) This one's an exercise in escapist nostalgia, following a teenaged boy in 1980s Dublin who starts a band in an effort to impress a girl he's crushing on. On paper, I should like it: starting a band as a teenager to impress a girl is something I literally did several times; I've walked past the secondary school from which the film derives its title a hundred times and recognise a dozen other shooting locations; I love the 80s new wave and synth-pop songs which inspired the film's original compositions. But it doesn't quite hang together, it's impossible to care about any of the characters, and the ending just feels wholly disconnected from everything that came before it that it can't help but feel like a disappointment.

*Near the start of the film, Colm (Brendan Gleeson) says he doesn't want to waste any more time listening to Pádraic's (Colin Farrell) inane stories, and would rather spend his remaining years focusing on his fiddle playing, which gives him a sense of purpose and satisfaction. Cool, makes sense. But then when Pádraic refuses to leave Colm alone, to illustrate the extent to which he doesn't want to be bothered, Colm decides to chop off several fingers from one of his hands and throw them at Pádraic's house. How exactly does this illustrate his desire to be left alone? If playing the fiddle is the only thing that gives his life meaning and purpose, why did he just maim himself in such a way that he will never be able to do so ever again? Apologists will say "that's the point, the characters are irrational and self-defeating!" I don't think the characters are irrational: I think the screenplay is badly written.

The Commitments

"It's roid, Sally, roid, not roy-id, Sally, roy-id!"

I'm sorry to tell you this, but I got to halfway through Tarkovsky's Stalker and turned it off. I managed to read Roadside Picnic and play Shadow of Chernobyl all the way through, but the movie was different. The book and game resembled books and games pretty well, but the movie was extremely slow, shot weirdly, with characters that didn't really have names, with dialogue that wasn't particularly interesting to me. It is funny to see so much praise of this movie, everywhere. I guess only a certain type of person seeks it out? On the other hand, Roadside Picnic is probably my favorite book.

I've been listening to the Metro 2033 audiobook in my car while driving. Pretty good. Not as good as Roadside Picnic, but pretty good. The narrator has a great voice and he can do the Russian accent well. There are a lot less trips to the surface, way less fighting, seemingly more supernatural stuff to the tunnels. I will say that the game character Uncle Bourbon is far superior to the book version, and I think the Dark One hallucinations add something to the game.

Tarkovsky is the cinematic equivalent of Joyce or Proust. I refuse to watch anything by him on principle.

My wife and I got halfway through Stalker, sped it up to 1.5x, and managed to make it to the end. I’m glad I watched it, if only to change my answer to “what was the last movie you watched?” Plodding Soviet atmospheric fantasy is more respectable than Marvel. She didn’t think it was worth it.

I would say it worked as an artistic experience, which is not the same thing as being a good movie. The plot was basically nonfunctional. When there was actual conflict, it had goofy choreography (the train) or laughable props (the bomb). Likewise for the characters, who oscillated between cryptic assholishness and physical comedy.

My favorite scene was the Stalker lying down in a puddle for 15 minutes. It actually got me questioning what was real and what the characters thought was real. I’m not joking; this was the scene which best conveyed what other commenters are saying about a dreamlike, threatening atmosphere.

I can’t imagine it would have been any better if we hadn’t both played STALKER. Again, incoherent plot. On the other hand, she’d read Picnic and I hadn’t. Maybe that’s the secret sauce.

The next movie we watched was Escape From New York, having recently played Metal Gear Solid. Ridiculous, but actually fun to watch.

Thanks for sharing your experience. I will have to remember the 1.5x speed trick.

While the world gained a legendary weird arthouse movie, it is quite sad that the book will never have had a proper movie adaptation. There was a LOT to like about it, one of the densest entertainment values in any book ever. Just 4 chapters and each one introduces multiple new angles on the premise. For how popular it was, it must have taken quite some restraint to keep it to that length and then not even write a sequel.

Movie or game adaptations almost always create a division in the fandom, and so do sequels. Thus, I kind of resent the movie for being so radically different, creating a bigger division than necessary. Should have been its own thing.

Escape from New York is great.

I'm sorry to tell you this, but I got to halfway through Tarkovsky's Stalker and turned it off.

You made the right choice. I sat through the whole thing and it didn't improve.

It's bad enough when people die as a result of making a good movie. No one should die as a result of making a boring movie that sucks.

I'm sorry to tell you this, but I got to halfway through Tarkovsky's Stalker and turned it off. I managed to read Roadside Picnic and play Shadow of Chernobyl all the way through, but the movie was different. The book and game resembled books and games pretty well, but the movie was extremely slow, shot weirdly, with characters that didn't really have names, with dialogue that wasn't particularly interesting to me.

I definitely get it, it's a weird niche movie that's extremely slow-paced and abstruse; I have a hard time justifying recommending it to anyone because of that. Your general perceptions of the movie probably correlates with how much patience you have for arthouse, and how much you enjoy the vibe (which is the aspect that carries the entire movie). For the most part, I wasn't expecting to like it either. I don't usually like exceptionally pretentious types of media and consider myself sort of ambivalent on arthouse (some are good, some aren't) and I'd heard Stalker was a particularly difficult one to get through. So imagine my surprise when I'd finished the whole thing and felt as if only an hour had passed, it was very dreamlike.

I suppose part of the reason why I had a different takeaway was because I conceptualised the movie in a bit of a different way than I do other films? It kind of felt a bit like a fable or myth to me, and I engaged with it as such. Your familiarity with the source material probably also has an impact since I never read Roadside Picnic and never built up any expectations.

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