Space Jam 1996 Directed by Joe Pytka

Anchors Aweigh 1945 Directed by George Sidney, Joseph Barbera, and William Hanna

Cool World 1992 Directed by Ralph Bakshi

Thanks for reading, next week Willy Wonka and all of his iterations.

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All this to say I can’t even say that I hate biopics. Personally as a kid about 40% of the movies I watched were biographical. Selena, The Temptations, La Bamba, Walk the Line, Lady Sings the Blues, Glory Road, The Blind Side, Remember the Titans, Ray, Something The Lord Made, and Glory all were in the rotation when I was younger. I have love for these movies for sentimental reasons, but it’s important to factor in the fact that they were seen before an age where I was viewing movies through a critical lens. Whether or not any of those films hold up today is debatable, but I can say with certainty that recent biopic releases seem like they are reaching for easy box office money or made as academy bait instead of putting in the effort to tell a story that is asking to be told.

My question is which stories deserve to be told? What makes a good biopic?

Maybe the best place to start is to break the dreaded “biopic” into four primary archetypes and briefly assess their strengths and weaknesses.

The Sports Biopic Archetype

Strengths:

• Strong pathos, frequent rags to riches stories

• Opportunity to root for the underdog

• Coach player dynamic makes you invest in story

• Usually avoids cradle to grave (focuses on career or special season)

Weaknesses:

• A lot of white savior-esque characters working with disadvantaged youth

• Lack of complex characters

• Audience for this type of movie won’t appreciate anything too “artsy”

• Predictable, they probably end up winning in the end

The Music Biopic Archetype

Strengths:

• The music and performances

• Glimpse into the music industry

• Bringing older music to new generation

Weaknesses:

• Often falls into cradle to grave trap

• Almost always glorifies drug use

• Non-musical actors poorly playing musicians

• Performances can easily become caricature-like

The Historical Biopic Archetype

Strengths:

• Something for the history buffs

• The costumes and makeup

• Can have fun with costume and set design

Weaknesses:

• Pressure to be historically accurate

• Can be a regurgitation of events

• Lacks re-watchability

The Miscellaneous Biopic Archetype

Strengths:

• Usually artsy, director has more fun

• The weirder the better, often features controversial subjects

• Not as repetitive as the other biopics, can hold the most surprises

Weaknesses:

• Explorative, but the most risky in terms of telling relevant stories

• Many political narratives

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Looking at this mini list of archetypes, biographical films have some great attributes going for them. They’re satisfying stories that are chosen for their ability to reflect on and connect with the human experience. An abundance of movie goers will leave the movie with expectations met as long as the film featured most of their favorite songs. An emotional connection is easily felt by the audience once the obligatory blurb and photo montage appear before the credits, bridging the gap between the movie and real life. The entire concept of biographical appeal seems pretty cut and dry, but what if audiences were allowed to ask for more. Not to be greedy, but maybe it’s possible for biopics to become something more than the copy paste they have always been.

Many would argue if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, Michael made over a billion dollars at the box office and the story didn’t bring much of a creative vision for the audience. This is fair, but it would be hard to deny that where this genre goes wrong are the restrictions that are built around historical events, especially if they are well known. Any artistic liberties taken by director or cast are likely to be criticized by fans and critics alike. The nature of the biopic is to lack artistic value. Which now after decades of rinse and repeat has led many filmmakers of late to step outside of the box with varying degrees of success.

All this to say, It is understood that most choices made when crafting a movie are done to make money. Complexity can deter certain audiences, so why make a film more high-brow than it needs to be? Regardless of taste, there are some, to be specific six, features of a film that can make for a good biopic.

1. Main characters that are not distracting. The best example of this is probably Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody. He outdid himself playing a singular character and earned his golden academy man named Oscar. Malek could have so easily done too much or too little, but he manages to find a sweet spot that doesn’t distract from the story. Rhapsody has it’s flaws, but while watching you’re able to get lost in the story without being distracted by questionable accent work or wardrobe choices. No caricatures please.

2. Connection to the time period. Using a major events of the time really help push the narrative, giving the audience something to connect to and/or a way to root external conflict into the story. A biopic that does this well is A Complete Unknown, using the anti-war movement and political unrest of the time as a bridge to Dylan’s songwriting. The story weaves in pivotal events such as Kennedy’s death into the story giving it a depth. It’s important to focus on the character, but studying how the world shapes the character is equally as important.

3. Unconventional life stories. Knowing that biopics have significant limitations, creative filmmakers probably should pick a subject who is a bit more eccentric. A great example of this is the film Bronson. Director Winding Refn gets to be weird, pushing boundaries with his storytelling as the ex-con Charles Bronson pushed the boundaries of society himself. Tom Hardy also gets to give a really fun and interesting performance as the titular character. It isn’t necessary to follow the biopic rules if the person being observed wasn’t a rule follower themselves.

4. Aesthetics. When faced with a historical period piece that might seem dull at face value, a director should choose to befriend the visual nature of cinema. Set design, costume, hair and makeup if done right like Sophia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, can bring a layer of substance to a film that otherwise wouldn’t have much appeal. There hopefully is a semblance of a story underneath the visual facade, but even if there isn’t the overall look will differentiate the film from the average biopic.

5. Avoid linear storytelling. There are without a doubt a number of biopics that are cradle to grave and well-loved, however loving a movie is not the same thing as claiming that a movie is good. These types of movies provide a comfort like Benjamin Button on rewind, giving audiences each scene as if it is on a predictable timeline. Thankfully, there are films that tastefully avoid this biopic trap. For instance Nolan’s Oppenheimer doesn’t have catchy tunes to rely on or outrageous personalities. What makes it different from a lifeless World War II era biopic, is the way it moves through time. It departs from the chronological sequence of events creating a visual spectacle worth seeing twice.

6. Emotion, pathos. The average biopic makes the mistake of vomiting out a succession of events that are historically accurate, but lack feeling. When going out to the theaters to see someone’s life story something should be felt. Happiness, sadness, anger. A biopic is really doing something wrong if it misses the emotional beats. There’s a balance to be had in building a world that looks real, yet delivers the same realness into it’s characters lives, honestly sharing the struggles and joys that being human brings.

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By no means do I think the biopic genre should be thrown away and shunned, even with the recent duds that have graced the big screen as of late. In fact there are a number of celebrities and personalities who I would love to see a good biographical film of. Not something thrown together because it’s guaranteed to make a certain amount at the box office, but something with a lot of heart, emotion, and catharsis. I think there are many biopics that deserve the hate received by the genre as a whole, but I also think that there are ways to navigate the limitations of making a biographical film and create something that is brilliant and not just another lame-o biopic.

Next week, exploring the fun-retro vibe of live action movies with animated characters.

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Run Time: 106 minutes

Writers: Todd Bartels, Lou Howe, Matt Johnson, and Matthew Miller

(If you want less recap more review, skip to the last two paragraphs)

Rising star Dominic Sessa plays a convincing young Anthony Bourdain in the biopic Tony. “Tony” is first seen interviewing for a writer’s fellowship at Vassar College. He brazenly proposes a pitch for a novel written on a single piece of paper to an elderly panel of three gentlemen. Tony ends his proposal with the Japanese word boketto and then proceeds to define it to the highly educated and accomplished gentlemen before him like a jack-off. This first scene perfectly defines Tony as a young man who thinks very highly of himself. He’s obviously shameless, arrogant, and selfish and the audience immediately knows he will have to endure has many tough life lessons in the near future.

It’s unsurprising when Tony gets the call from the university that he didn’t get the writer’s fellowship. He receives somewhat of a saving grace for his ego before this initial rejection as he runs into his high school crush Nancy (Emilia Jones) at a bar where he is able to show off his nunchucks and get a bit of validation with an invitation for him to come find her at the end of the summer. Before they part ways Nancy lets it slip that she will be spending the summer in Provincetown, MA working at a pizza shop on the coast. Naturally when he gets word the fellowship won’t be an option Tony pivots and impulsively gets on a bus to Provincetown in search of Nancy.

One could say he is feeling hopeful or insouciant when he steps off the bus onto the pier dressed to the nines in a blue long sleeve button-up tucked into wide flared blue pants, and platform boots. His good looks only takes him so far as when he finds Nancy she appears to be coupled up with a well endowed pizza man much to Tony’s chagrin.

Upon this secondary rejection, Tony finds himself five beers deep in a nautical themed bar/restaurant. Drunkenly Tony gets a bit too friendly with the attractive waitress Mary, leading him into a one sided brawl with the two men who will later become role models of sorts for him, Chef (Antonio Banderas) and Sal (Leo Woodhall). Skinny with a pair of useless nunchucks, Tony gets thrown out into the street on his ass. At the end of the night, feeling bad for the unconscious kid sleeping on the street in front of his restaurant, Chef takes Tony home allowing him a bit of refuge on the hammock on his front porch.

This drunken night is the start of Tony’s first summer not writing but working in a kitchen. For the rest of the movie Tony does a lot of growing up. He learns the importance of waking up early, he learns how to shuck an oyster, he learns the brutality of tuna fishing, and he learns a real life lesson about fire safety. All of the experiences condensed into a single summer are an accumulation of the first few years Anthony Bourdain spent working in a kitchen, but nevertheless do a great job of depicting a young man figuring his shit out as he becomes the icon we know today.

A biopic, Tony isn’t risky in the slightest, but it does have this charming coastal aesthetic mixed with a coming of age story and tons of feeling that makes it worth the watch. Sessa helps the story immensely as he has an innocence to him that makes the story all the more real. You can’t help but root for the kid as he makes the wrong decisions again and again, not knowing any better. Tony is by no means ground-breaking but it is fun and does an excellent job showcasing something most of us can relate to. Being young, dumb, and broke. Truly

Anthony Bourdain forever lives in the collective consciousness not only because of his death, but also because of his sardonic love for life and his ability to make you feel something. His ability to connect with the darker depths of human nature that are often left unspoken for fear of not being “politically correct” allows you to feel closer to him compared to other celebrities. He truly is the perfect subject deserving of a closer look.

I hate sequels, but this movie definitely sets the tone for a possible feature on his Kitchen Confidential days. Maybe.

4/5 stars

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Damien Chazelle has noted several movies were used as inspiration in the making of La La Land. There is an undeniable old Hollywood magic that reappears in La La Land, decades removed from a time of technicolor and grand choreographed dance numbers. There is something captured in La La Land that is pure nostalgia while remaining innovative. Here are three films that were influential in the making of La La Land.

A Star is Born (1954)

Director: George Cukor (My Fair Lady, The Philadelphia Story, Holiday)

Cast: Judy Garland, James Mason

Runtime: 178 minutes

Release Date: September 29th, 1954

At this point it seems as though A Star is Born is a tale old as time. It has been remade three times since the original release in 1937. The version used as reference for La La Land is the 1954 release, starring Judy Garland. The plot follows Esther Blodgett, a small-time performer in a band who is discovered by washed-up actor Norman Maine (James Mason). Initially their collaboration is professional, Maine as her mentor. The pair quickly fall in love, even after Maine warns Esther that he is no good for her. Over the course of the film she becomes a Hollywood sensation, surpassing her husband in popularity, causing irreparable harm to Maine’s ego. The film ends as the other Star is Born films, with Maine committing suicide.

So much of the plot is reflected in the story of La La Land. Both stories feature an actress with a dream of getting their big break, even though they may be perceived as plain or average. Similar to Garland, Emma Stone provides a ton of heart in her performance as the aspiring actress who falls in love on her path to fame. From the dance numbers to the performances to the love story behind it all it is easy to see why A Star is Born provided inspiration for La La Land.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Director: Jacques Demy (The Young Girls of Rochefort)

Cast: Catherine Deneuve, Nino Castelnuovo

Runtime: 91 minutes

Release Date: February 19th, 1964

With Damien Chazelle being fluent in French and having a French father it’s not surprising that some French Cinema was used to inspire his musical debut. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a French Musical led by Catherine Deneuve as young Geneviève in love with Guy (Nino Castelnuovo). The story feels similar in plot to the Notebook. The pair fall in love and are separated when Guy is drafted for military service. Geneviève’s mother wants her to marry a more respectable man, which she does even though she is pregnant with Guy’s child. The two don’t end up with each other, but do receive closure when crossing paths years later.

The film has undeniably gorgeous, colorful visuals that seem like characters of their own. Everything is sung in this film, making the entirety of the picture one long musical number, however there are scenes shared by Geneviève and Guy that feel like the moments shared between Gosling and Stone’s characters at the planetarium in La La Land. So much style from the costume to the set design to the color palette that is shared with La La Land.

Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

Director: Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly (Charade, Funny Face)

Cast: Debbie Reynolds, Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor

Runtime: 103 minutes

Release Date: April 11th, 1952

This film is probably the easiest and most clear comparison to make with La La Land. Singin’ in the Rain is a love letter to an older era of cinema, specifically silent films. The movie covers the narrow time period where Hollywood moved from silent pictures to “talkies.” The movie has romantic elements between a charming Don Lamont (Gene Kelly) and a skeptical Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds). Singin’ in the Rain has a cinematic flair that has made it a classic in many regards. Similar to La La Land, Singin’ in the Rain is led by a charismatic male lead, who is a better dancer than Gosling, but shares the same magnetic screen presence.

Chazelle recreates the magic of Singin’ in the Rain choreography on a grander scale in the opening of La La Land with the “Another Day of Sun” traffic jam flash mob sequence. The scene feels timeless with a special spark, just as so many of the performances in Singin’ in the Rain do. The playful relationship between Don and Kathy is one that is replicated between Gosling and Stone’s characters as they share a number “A Lovely Night” where they’re able to pick at each other before evolving into the enemies to lovers trope.

La La Land is unmistakably one of the major exceptions that prove taking a chance on original ideas can pay off. It is just as captivating as it is bewildering, a masterpiece that can be re-watched again and again without tiring of it. It is absolutely wonderful.

10th Anniversary Screenings of La La Land at AMC theaters on August 16th and 17th.

Thank you for reading. Next week, what are the criteria for a decent biopic?

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Anne Hathaway is the star of 2026. The Devil Wears Prada 2, Mother Mary, The Odyssey, Verity, and The End of Oak Street. Not only is she starring in five films this year, she is leading five films this year. Prior to 2026 it felt like Hathaway disappeared from the front and center of the cinema scene. Leading up to 2026 Hathaway hadn’t been in much since 2020. Her most notable films including James Grey directed Armageddon Time in 2022 and the rom-com of The Idea of You in 2024.

Anne has been fairly quiet in the late 2010s and early 2020s. Many of my contemporaries are familiar with and fans of Hathaway due to her notable films of the early 2000s such as The Princess Diaries and The Devil Wears Prada. She rose to fame playing the quirky-dorky girl in comedic films, never to be mistaken for the “Regina George” type. She began to diverge from those types of roles when she was cast as Fantine in Les Miserables (okay vocals) and Dr. Amelia Brand in Interstellar. From there she has become an American household name, proving her range reaches from all ends of the dramatic spectrum.

Much how she has led the year in starring roles, Hathaway leads in The End of Oak Street. The film is a sci-fi-esque family drama. The movie starts slowly with a neighborhood block party. Here we are introduced to the Platt family, Hathaway as Denise Platt a strong maternal figure with dreams of becoming a writer, possibly to the detriment of her relationship with her family. Ewan McGregor plays Greg Platt, a simple-man delivering pizza, living in the shadow of his wife’s ambition. Two more unfamiliar names are Christian Convery and Maisy Stella playing Brian and Audrey Platt respectively.

In the first few scenes the marital stress between Denise and Greg are evident, as the couple argues about the family dog. This conflict continues throughout the film as an important plot point.

It takes a while for the action to begin as there are a few small random incidents scattered throughout the first act. Mysterious lights, impossible plants, and large heaps of poo. To get a better idea of what the film feels like it would be helpful to watch David Robert Mitchell’s previous films. His most notable are It Follows and Under the Silver Lake, both mystery thrillers that borrow some tropes from the slasher genre. The movie initially feels as if E.T. were a thriller until it turns out that the supposed unidentified mysterious creatures are dinosaurs. The bulk of the film is made up of well done suspenseful scenes executed through use of score and a camera that lingers on reactions rather than spectacle.

A series of small incidents lead to the big one, where the “Oak Street” neighborhood is transported to another time, A time when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. Initially the only clue they have been transported are the lack of electricity and a warmer climate. The next day the family is finally introduced to their unlikely reality after a strange storm and large flash of light. This new reality is gruesome, the movie is not scared to depict the gore of a universe where humans and dinosaurs shared the Earth.

Finding that there is no escape from their neighborhood as the family drives various streets to only find roads that lead into dense jungle or off a high cliff revealing the expanse of the new world surrounding them. The family is then led by Denise with tangible leadership, Greg only offers prayers and wishes in the face of crisis. As the Platt’s begin to mentally settle into the realities they face the family sits in their living room discussing the possibilities of how they arrived where they are. Their daughter Audrey turns out to be a space buff and insists that the entire neighborhood must have been transported through a giant wormhole to a pre-anthropomorphic era. During the scene Robert Mitchell utilizes some over the shoulder camera angles, perhaps to make the action-less scenes more interesting for the film-goers who came to see dinosaurs.

The movie is fun, the CGI looks really good, and Anne Hathaway looks great. It’s not a great film, it’s not a bad film either. Not sure if the movie brings anything new or memorable to the world of cinema but it’s well-paced and delivers what the audience came to see. Dinosaurs.

3/5 Stars

Run time: 99 minutes

Director: David Robert Mitchell

Cast: Anne Hathaway, Ewan McGregor, Christian Convery, Maisy Stella

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The Wrong Girls

Kristen Stewart’s wife Dylan Meyer makes her directorial debut in The Wrong Girls. The movie is like a mixture of Pineapple Express, Broad City, and The X-Men, making for a fun sci-fi stoner comedy with some really adorable cats. The film centers Stewart as Frankie and Alia Shawkat as Molly as two best friends and roommates who some would call under achievers.

The plot isn’t too intricate, after going to a concert solo to spy on her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend Frances. Coincidentally the new girlfriend looks identical to Frankie and Frankie is mistakenly given a top-secret suitcase by accident. From there they discover the suitcase holds a Danish drug made from the ink of giant squids. The girls stupidly take the drugs giving them telepathic abilities and of course when mixed with their drug of choice (doobies) the girls develop even strong telekinetic powers. After discovering the mix up, the Danish KGB pursue perhaps the most unassuming of suspects. After attempted drug deals, a discussion of Danish versus Dutch, and some potent weed brownies the pursuit ends with a giant pink sparkling squid and a small business-owned weed buffet.

Meyer creates something that is fun for the stoners and besties of the world. Where the story lacks complexity, it makes up for with good vibes and really cute cats.

3/5 Stars

Run Time: 99 minutes

Director: Dylan Myer

Cast: Kristen Stewart, Alia Shawkat, LaKeith Stanfield, Kate Mckinnon

My infatuation with Frederico Fellini began late last year while watching his 1957 film Nights of Cabiria. I watched the movie in one sitting without captions because for some reason the subtitles were about thirty seconds ahead of the audio. Normally in this case I would just choose something else to watch, but there was a richness in the film-making and storytelling taking place on screen that understanding the dialogue wasn’t necessary. From there on I found myself viewing La Strada then finally 8 ½.

8 ½ was released in 1963, shortly after the successful La Dolce Vita (1960). The film was an international success winning the Academy Award for best foreign film and best costume design. In the sixty plus years since there has not been a film to compare with Fellini’s striking and influential vision. Upon first watch 8 ½ is breathtakingly beautiful and rule-breaking but it feels out of reach for the majority. It’s one of those movies where a mom or aunt might say “I don’t get it.”

On top of being a black and white foreign film, most of the landscapes feel hallucinatory while blurring the lines between reality and imagination. Despite the high-brow nature of the film, 8 ½ manages to arouse the senses visually and spatially making it worth the possibility of initial confusion. Fellini uses the screen as his canvas, focusing on the art form more than the clarity of the plot. In what Martin Scorsese calls Fellini’s most personal film on the surface level, here is making sense of Fellini’s 8 ½.

To break down 8 ½ it might be necessary to start with addressing the main character Guido Anselmi (Marcello Mastroianni). Guido is a movie director based on Fellini himself. He spends the film haunted by the task of working on his film in production while dealing with his own tormented psyche. Guido is self-obsessed and woman-obsessed making his mental creative block insurmountable with all of the distractions that are hindering him from making this film. With acknowledging the center of the film as Guido and giving him a bit of characterization, the best way to move forward with this write up is by identifying the repetitive themes Fellini chooses to explore in 8 ½.

Shame and Guilt

It is impossible to even think about the film 8 ½ without touching on the themes of shame and guilt. They both encircle the film from the first scene on, stemming from the inner workings of Guido. The film opens with a picturesque scene of a traffic jam. Various passengers are arranged methodically to provide some of the most staggering visuals of the film within the first moments. The camera moves to focus on a single driver, Guido, who is being watched by the surrounding vehicles. All eyes are on him as his vehicle begins to fill with smoke. Escaping the car, Guido flies up into the air, floating amongst the clouds. Not exactly a subtle metaphor but it lays the foundation for exploring all of the hidden stuff lurking in the mind of Guido that he wants to escape.

The traffic jam scene is obviously a metaphor for the pressure that falls on the shoulders of a director with all eyes on you, however the need to escape the pressure goes even deeper. There is a flashback sequence of Guido’s childhood, when he and friends paid a plus-sized prostitute to dance for them on the beach. He gets caught by his mother who shames him and takes him straight to the priest, who also enacts public shame on him within the religious school. This ties into his insecurities related to attractive women and the guilt he holds for desiring them even as a married man. It’s hard to say whether Guido feels any guilt in his infidelity which primarily happens with his married mistress Carla (Sandra Milo) who bears some resemblance to the older woman from his childhood. Maybe Guido also feels shame in that he is not as complex as he wants to be, rather he is simply a little boy still scared of retribution for his attraction to women. All this ties to the traffic jam in Guido’s desire to escape his past shame and guilt, being able to run, or fly away from any scrutiny.

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Control

8 ½ is known for the infamous harem scene. There’s a discussion to be had on whether the scene is a fantasy of Guido’s or a proposed scene for his film in development. In the context as a secret desire the scene sees Guido as the director of all the women in his life, wife, mistresses, mother, and associates. All the women are under the control of Guido and his rules, him smoking in a bubble bath while the women run around him asking him things as though he is a king. Guido seems to relish the control he has over the women, possibly because in his real life it works the other way around, he is controlled by women and his unfailing desire for them limiting his authority over his own life.

The score for Richard Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries appears in this scene as the women attempt to rebel against the conditions set by Guido where women of a certain age are sent “upstairs,” turning the scene into a circus. Guido the ringmaster with his whip, the women wild as animals running around trying to enact their own agendas. If this fantasy is true of Guido, it makes sense why he fell into the position of director, the man in charge, the one who makes the final calls. This says even more about Fellini, who based on this scene alone, possibly enjoys the power of being the director so much so that he would relish in it if he could wield the same power in his own life.

Comedy

Meant to be a comedy, 8 ½ doesn’t always read that way. It comes off more as a film that is enacting the freedom of a created world, with fragmented realities and characters. If whimsy was a genre that is where 8 ½ best belongs, not to say that there aren’t funny parts of the movie. The relationship between Mario Mezzabotta (Mario Pisu) and his younger lady companion Gloria (Barbra Steele) is funny in that she is the eccentric mid-life crisis type of girlfriend that can make Mario feel young again. There’s Madeleine (Madeleine Lebeau) a French actress hired for Guido’s film who asks repeatedly for some information on what her role in the film will be as Guido continuously avoids directly answering her questions, as he evidently has no idea what her role is, or any other role.

For directors and producers or any other person close to the film industry there is some plausibility in the comedic levity of the film. All of Guido’s dealing with his producers, scriptwriters, and cast, all amounting to him hiding under a table and calling off the film for reasons never explicitly shared could be amusing for some. It is more important to know when viewing that the purpose behind the creation of the film was to make it comedic, that knowledge alone could make the viewing experience more enjoyable, more accessible.

Ego

Fellini was a known follower of the psychologist Carl Jung. Jung believed the ego is the conscious mind, essential for personal identity and self-awareness. What could be more self-aware than making a film about your own neuroses? Guido Anselmi has many weaknesses and insecurities tied to his past, negatively impacting his ego. It’s important to note that the lack of convention in the film is attributed to the way the brain processes memories and how a mind doesn’t always lend itself to working in a linear fashion. Either way Fellini uses Guido to show the ways in which identity or the ego can be manipulated. As an acclaimed director with awards under their belt, it is hard to imagine a day when creativity has emptied out and questions arise internally if there was any talent to begin with or if it all was a fluke.

Guido’s crisis of creativity affects his ego, in how he questions himself, how he allows past feelings of shame and regret to consume his consciousness. Existential things like this are hard to put into a film, which is why Fellini decides to allow some playfulness into the fluidity of the story. How it weaves in and out of the inner confines of Guido’s consciousness. By the end of the film Guido releases the ego tied to his work and has a little parade for himself with all the people in his life accompanied by the sound of music and a little boy like himself playing the flute, because it really all is just for fun.

Sources:

Eggert, Brian (2015, March 16). 8 ½ (1963), Deep Focus Review. 8 1/2 (1963) | The Definitives | Deep Focus Review

Martin Scorsese on 8 1/2

Terry Gilliam on 8½

Would have been nice to post this on August 12th for a nice touch, but thanks anyways for reading my thoughts on Fellini’s 8 1/2. Next week I will be writing a little something celebrating Damien Chazelle’s La La Land for its 10th anniversary.

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The movie starts as Kris (Hannah Einbinder) travels to an abandoned sleep away camp that was used in the original series of the reboot she has been hired to direct. The reboot is none other than the fictitious “Camp Miasma.” There she meets the star of the first Camp Miasma film Billy Pressley (Gillian Anderson) coincidentally the perfect person for her to conduct research with for the new Camp Miasma film. The pair share a meal of KFC with dipping sauce, loudly hinting at a future romantic relationship. From that scene on the film becomes less straight-forward, more other worldly.

Yes, the film functions largely as a love letter to cinema, specifically thrillers, with Psycho and Sunset Boulevard mentions, but it also gets hijacked by so much quirkiness that it turns into a complete phantasmagoria. It is hard to distinguish at times if Schoenbrun is making a definite statement or just having fun.

At the start of the second act Kris and Billy rewatch the original Camp Miasma at the campground cinema. Here the movie transitions into something inception-esque as a movie within a movie. We are transported inside the first film and get a taste of good old-fashioned misogyny, transphobia, and extreme slasher CGI moments. There is even a music video like montage that definitely stands out as one of the most memorable scenes in the film. The viewing of the first movie together brings Kris and Billy closer together while giving Kris a better idea of what she wants the reboot to be.

The movie proceeds to change into a sex-fueled commentary on desire while maintaining all of its tongue and cheek at film tropes and the “industry.” The best thing about this movie ends up being how much there is to analyze, while ultimately being largely about nothing. Maybe it is just a spectacle that is meant to be seen and digested without understanding every single nuance. Perhaps there’s nothing else below the surface but little death.

3.5/5 stars

Director and Writer: Jane Schoenbrun

Cast: Hannah Einbinder, Gillian Anderson, Eva Victor, Amanda Fix, Zach Cherry, Sarah Sherman

Run time: 112 minutes

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Will Gluck provides direction in his third rom com, with Anyone But You releasing only three years earlier in 2023. He does his best to create a modern take on the rom-com, with an out-of-the-box alternate universe spin that is sure to bring in audiences based on the idea alone. However, it seems that Gluck knows how to hit all the comedic beats, but stumbles in giving the narrative a fluid identity.

The film opens with a quick bit of world building with a short disclaimer explaining the predicament, inefficiently plopping the audience into the modern-dystopian society of New York.

The story then introduces the two leads Owen (Callum Turner) and Allie (Monica Babaro). Owen works as a pizzeria owner, Allie an aspiring singer stuck working on advertisement jingles. Allie plans to spend the one night with her friend looking for the 2.8% of quality single men. Owen thinks he will be spending the night with his girlfriend. In this sexually repressed landscape unexpected events involving condoms, dating apps, and grand larceny throw their planned nights off course.

Barbaro coming off of a more serious role in A Complete Unknown is surprisingly lighthearted and refreshing. She reads as a quirky hopeless romantic with stage fright hitting all the right notes, holding her own as the film’s leading lady. It’s a different story for Turner as he is returning to the rom-com landscape after his 2025 role in Eternity. He is incredibly charming as the “square” city boy, bringing tons of welcome golden-retriever energy to the role.

Getting past the pairs initial meet-cute involving some bad sushi there is a repetitive nature in this film where they continue to meet again and again in a kismet fashion. This is where the film begins to feel like a good time but not a fresh time. It almost feels as though the movie is leaning too heavily on the whacky premise to do all of the work in providing something new to audiences. This doesn’t take away from all the jokes that land and the surprise cameos scattered throughout the movie, but it does read as something that is copy paste.

One Night Only promises a good time, if only in the attractive casting and abundance of sexual innuendos. An intriguing, blacklisted script written by Travis Braun, that delivers comedy and romance, but perhaps could be a little hornier, a little less safe.

3/5 stars

Tòtem’s Sol played by Naìma Sentìes has this child-like ability to feel, however she guards many of her feelings throughout the film, making it difficult to decode what is going on inside her head. The movie is told through her eyes, as she perceives the external world of her family going through crisis. She questions the actions and behaviors of the elders surrounding her while absorbing her families internalized, yet poorly masked pain. Avilés manages to capture to Sol’s profound emotions, without the young actress shedding a tear. I want to take a look at how Sol’s emotions guide the story and shape the home around her.

For my friends who have been to therapy you’ve likely heard of an emotions wheel. It is used to identify and label feelings for those of us who struggle with properly judging how we feel in our bodies. At the center of the wheel are six primary emotions. It expands further to increase specificity for what you are feeling.

I used this wheel to guide my decision on what emotion was possibly going on in Sol’s head for specific scenes, although it’s hard to tell. I firmly believe she is feeling deeply throughout the film, but does not know how to express it or doesn’t feel comfortable drawing attention to herself.

Perhaps this is why the film struck me so deeply when I first watched it. A young face hiding so much depth. I would compare Sentìes’s performance to that of the Carlos Saura 1976 film Cría Cuervos that evokes a similar emotional response through the use of a child’s pov.

Tòtem is such a moving and beautifully shot film, here are some of the scenes featuring Sol and a small view into her unimaginably deep soul. Maybe you can use the wheel as a tool to decide what emotions the character is hiding.

Hopeful

The scene preceding the title card shows Sol and her mother on the way to her father’s birthday party. In the car the strong, mother-daughter bond is shown reflecting how deeply Sol is loved. This is one of the few scenes where Sol smiles or laughs in the film, acting as a normal girl her age would. The scene ends with a rare bit of dialogue from Sol, “I wished for daddy not to die.” The delivery of this line is so matter of fact and to the point that it makes for the perfect entry into the rest of the film and what to expect from the character going forward.

Perplexed

Sol has a few scenes with small snails she finds around her family home. In each take it looks as though she is filled with wonder. A wonder and confusion about the fragility of life. From the beginning of the film, she proves that she knows that her father is dying. She says as much. However, at her age it stands to question whether she truly knows what death is. What it entails. All she knows is life. Looking at the snail, she appreciates life for what it is while dealing with her own internal confusion surrounding the word death.

Furious

Being a girl of few words and few facial expressions Sol is hard to read. Many could distinguish this shot as one of soleminty or exhaustion, but in internally Sol is likely feeling a bit of frustration or fury. After being told several times that she cannot see her father, but understanding why she cannot, I imagine she is experiencing some kind of pain that can only manifest in anger towards the unknown. In many shots throughout the film Sol is shown as a gentle soul with grace, treating all living creatures as worthy of respect. Through the old soul she endows, her anger manifests as stillness rather than an outward showing of her emotion.

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Frightened

Sol’s father emerges from his room looking skinny but forces smiles for his birthday party. Despite his show of strength Sol recognizes her father’s deterioration and that frightens her. Her fear is somewhat masked, but in this scene as she holds her father tight, she is scared of the unknown that she does not yet understand. There are several beautiful moments from all the birthday scenes at the end of the movie, yet this one frames a moment of release for Sol. A showing of what she is most scared of, losing her father.

Powerless

The second to last scene of the film is the blowing of the birthday candles for Sol’s father’s birthday. Sol sits next to her father quietly, the candles illuminating her mature appearance. When it comes time to make a wish, Sol closes her eyes and the audience knows exactly what she is wishing for. A heartbreaking scene that combined with the final shot left me in tears. The story along with the camera framing makes this moment portrait worthy.

Thanks for reading my thoughts on Lila Avilés’s Tótem . Next week I want to dive deeper into the classic 8 ½.

***november matinee is where I get to share the movies that I love. Feel free to subscribe :)

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Originally when deciding to write something about the Godfather, the first thing that popped into my mind was to write a critique on how male-centered the film is. How the lack of female voices is difficult to ignore. Yet, upon rewatch the ideas surrounding the female voice morphed into that of tradition’s role in respecting typical gender roles and how women in the Godfather function inside or outside of tradition. From there I ended up taking it a step further viewing the film completely through the lens of tradition and how in some ways it can be helpful, beneficial even, and where tradition falls short, negatively impacting those within its strict confines.

The next few paragraphs will detail the death of tradition within the Godfather Parts I and II.

The Tradition of the Favor

The opening shot reveals the tradition of an audience with Vito Corleone, the Godfather. Acquaintances of varying closeness allowed to ask a favor of a man who on first sight emanates enough power and wealth to cause fear and reverence in grown men of means. Each man who is brave or lucky enough to hold his attention placing a kiss on the back of the Don’s hand. The Godfather gracefully accepts each favor asked of him, guaranteeing each man who asks of his assistance that he will take care of it, even if he needs to make an offer the other man cannot refuse.

This ritual proceeds to be mirrored a few times in part two, once with Michael and Frankie Pentangeli and with pre-Godfather Vito Corleone and Don Ciccio. One meeting following the events of part one, the other predating part one.

Early on Frankie approaches Michael for a favor in his new role as Godfather. He asks Michael for a hit on the gangsters backed by the Jewish Hyman Roth. Michael declines this favor as he plans to work with Roth to become a legitimate businessman. Frankie is offended by the lack of support from Michael, offended by the break in tradition, leading to major betrayal.

“The favor” is seen again between a young Vito Corleone and Don Ciccio, the man who killed Vito’s father, mother, and brother. Established in the “olive oil” trade in New York, Vito returns to his hometown in Italy for the first time since fleeing as a child. Before he and his partners begin importing Sicilian olive oil to the states, they must ask Don Ciccio for permission to continue their business. Once more, this scene mirrors a break in tradition as a simple favor turns into a murder of revenge that is three decades overdue.

The Tradition of Business

The event that precipitates much of the plot in Godfather part one is Vito Corleone rejecting Sollozo’s offer to enter into the drugs business. Vito goes onto explain that the only illegal business the Corleone family has ever been a part of in the past was the gambling business. He continues to state the family has never been interested in the “dirty business” of drug distribution. Vito’s moral code is a dubious one, but it is also one that respects the unwritten law of tradition.

A few minor events happen in the film following Sollozo’s offer that ultimately lead to Vito breaking his semi-honorable code. In a departure from the tradition of the past, Vito arranges a gathering of the “five families” to accept an offer relating to the drug business. He sacrifices his stance against drugs to put an end to the bloodshed that ensued following the initial decline of entering into a risky business. After almost losing his life and losing a son Vito realizes that the only way to guarantee the safety of his family is through compromised values.

The Tradition of Family

As the title alludes to, there is nothing of higher significance than that of the family in the Godfather trilogy.

The opening scenes of part one and two occur at traditional family gatherings, a wedding and religious celebration.

Part one opens at Connie’s wedding. The wedding represents a tradition of lineage and a continuance of the family tree. Of course, it is later revealed that in the tradition of marriage there was often a lack of autonomy on behalf of the woman. Unlike her predecessors, Connie somewhat rebelled against the notion that her role as a woman was to be silent and accommodating as possible. This small retaliation against tradition, caused increased friction in her marriage, even as a woman with such a powerful father.

Connie doesn’t mirror her mother, who is seen in both part one and part two of the Godfather, but doesn’t have more than a few spoken lines. Even as the matriarch of the great Corleone family, their mother is quiet and traditional, accepting her role as mother and wife without complaint.

Similar to part one, in the opening of part two there is a celebration. Michael’s son Anthony’s first communion. Here we view a progression of tradition, with slight cracks beginning to form. Alfredo and Connie both bring partners home that would not be traditionally accepted in an Italian home. It could also be argued that the partnership between Michael and Kay and her status as a typical American white woman with no ties to Italy was the first rupture of romantic tradition in the family. Tradition unfolds as Kay becomes dissatisfied with that of the status as an Italian mob wife who is not allowed to question her husband. This dissatisfaction inevitably comes to a head in a shocking confrontation with Michael.

The Tradition of Succession

The final tradition to consider here is that of succession. The Italian mob family functions much like that of royalty. The family “business” is handed down to the eldest son after the passing of the father.

When Sonny dies in part one, it would be assumed that the role would be passed onto Vito’s next eldest son, Alfredo. This tradition is ignored in that Fredo is kind, but slow, much unlike his younger brother Michael who is cunning and intelligent. This slight is felt by Fredo, leading him to engage in deeply regrettable and moronic actions in part two.

In many ways tradition is dangerous as it prevents progress and change, creating ignorance about the reality of the present. Also, in many ways tradition can be advantageous, in how it provides a point of reference for something done in the past that worked well. The Godfather is more than just a film about the mafia for entertainment, it is a historical recollection of the paths that tradition may lead us down, for good or for worse. Tradition may die, but it is not forgotten.

Thanks for reading my thoughts on Francis Coppola’s Godfather. Next week I’m excited to take a look at the film Tótem.

***november matinee is where I get to share the movies that I love. Feel free to subscribe :)

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To get started let’s cover some basic lunar vocabulary

• New Moon

  • The moon resides between the sun and the Earth. Its appearance is dark in the night sky.

• Waxing

  • The period between a new moon and a full moon. The moon slowly “grows” more and more as it is able to reflect more of the sun’s light on its surface. It is the process of moving to the furthest point away from the sun.

• Full moon

  • The Earth sits between the sun and the moon. The sun is large enough that it’s light is able to bypass the Earth, creating a brightly lit full moon.

• Waning

  • Following a full moon, light slowly recedes from the moon’s surface as the moon orbits around the Earth to a position closer to the sun.

i. little

We are introduced to the main character “little” around the age of eight. He is a child who is quiet, too quiet. His temperament a reflection of the trauma and abuse endured at such a young age. Here little is the realization of a new moon. When the moon is at its darkest it is said to be a time of new beginnings, opportunity and potential.

It could be argued that childhood is the time of greatest potential. A child is not yet fully formed, naturally becoming a symbol of hope for the possibilities of life. In this first chapter there are inklings of who he will become, through his stern, mature manner. Yet still, at his age there is nothing set in stone as many of life’s experiences that shape the mind have not yet come into the picture at his age.

Despite being so young, little does end up meeting an impactful force on his life, Juan. Juan becomes a father-figure and protector to him. The role-model who influences little and opens his life to new teachings and ways of thinking. Juan’s profession lacks something aspire to, but as a child hungry for love, living in a home with a drug addicted mother, little takes the man who comes to him as a gift from God. In this new moon period of life little grasps at the opportunity to be soft, to be taken care of, to not “be good that way,” yearning for someone who he can love who will love him back. Juan represents a new beginning for little, a symbolization of the new moon.

ii. chiron

In chapter two, little has grown into Chiron. A teenager filled with an even greater sense of loss than he possessed as a child. Here Chiron is in the waxing phase of his life. When the moon is waxing or “growing” it is noted as a time to take action. Dissimilar to the waning or “shrinking phases of the moon which is regarded as a time for introspection and deep thought. In fact, there is usually little thinking done in the waxing phase of life.

As we all know, teenagers are impulsive. Their frontal lobes haven’t developed, making it possible for them to engage in a lot of reckless activities without thinking about the consequences. As a teen we observe Chiron opposing his mother, acting on his feeling towards his friend Kevin, and standing up against his bullies. All of these events of action fit the waxing phase for Chiron, although some repercussions of his actions are greater than others.

Chiron’s behavior is natural for his age. It is in these actions of defiance and youth that bring about Chiron’s stabilized sense of self. It is important to remember that the waxing phase is all about forward motion. Obstacles that appear in life can often only be overcome through movement. Chiron’s final action of this chapter seems to create more obstacles than it surmounts. However, at the stage of life he was in, he needed to move, he needed to act. It was not the time for him to stay still without a reaction. It was time for him to progress in this phase of life.

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iii. black

Ten years later Chiron is a young man following in the footsteps of the late Juan, “trapping” for a living. Here in chapter three, he is in the full moon phase of his life. This phase is described as a time of clarity, release, and cleansing.

In the full moon phase Chiron is able to reach forgiveness with his mother and repair old wounds with the first person he was intimate with. The story culminates in the odd and lonely little boy finally allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to receive what he had been in search of his whole life. Love.

The moon’s cycle brought Chiron the safety and renewal he needed in childhood as a full-grown adult. In a sense this chapter was a fresh start for Chiron. Releasing old demons to make room for the goodness life has to offer. He was able to take what he learned from previous cycles to reap what he sowed. Reaching the full moon phase of his life was not an ending for Chiron, rather the starting point for a new cycle full of new possibilities.

Thanks for reading my thoughts on the film Moonlight. Next week I’m going to share my ideas on the one and only Godfather Part I.

***november matinee is where I get to share the movies that I love. Feel free to subscribe :)

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Minutes later, Alice sees a sky blue station wagon passing in the rearview mirror. She sees Meredith’s familiar golden curls in the drivers window. Meredith parks a handful of spaces away and steps out of the car. Her curly bob met her shoulders graciously and her white-framed, dark rectangular sunglasses frame her oval face perfectly. She is wearing the same outfit that Alice saw her in earlier at the store. Alice anxiously hops out of the Volvo, unsure of what to expect from the meeting at the park. She approaches Meredith with a tight-lipped smile.

Once Meredith sees Alice she embraces her in a tight hug. Alice doesn’t react quick enough and her arms are pinned under Meredith’s uncomfortably, her palms holding her thighs.

Pulling back from Alice, but still holding on to her arms, Meredith says “lets go over to the benches by the pond?”

Alice nods in response. They find a wooden bench near the marshy side of the pond lined with cattails. There is a metal engraving on the back of the bench dedicating it to someone named Judy. Somehow the mosquitoes were at some other pond and blue dragonflies danced on the waters surface. For a while Meredith and Alice exchange the typical niceties; family, home, and life. Meredith wasn’t too pushy, asked questions, and listened at the right time. It didn’t feel like she was trying to dig, rather just be a listening ear. It felt good to be heard.

Eventually Meredith is the one to break the seal on deeper matters. “So what happened at the grocery store? What’s going on at home?”

Alice looks away, listening to the sounds of the baseball game in the background. Not making eye contact she shares with Meredith the memory that has been on her mind every day since it happened. “Last month it was Will’s birthday. He didn’t want to celebrate but the kids decided it would be fun to surprise their dad at work and take him out to dinner.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Alice parks outside of Will’s law firm office. The children are in the back seat. Sarah has on a pink dress, Sam a white button down and black slacks.

“Alright guys wait in the car while I grab your dad, I’ll tell him it’s just him and I going to get dinner. You’ll be the second surprise.” Alice grabs the birthday balloons from the passenger seat of the car.

“Aw, mom we wanna go in,” Sam whines.

“Just wait here, I’ll be back in five with your dad.”

Alice gets out of the car with balloons in hand. She climbs the steps up to the building housing Will’s law firm office. The lobby is well lit and the marble floors shine as though they have just been waxed. Alice is wearing black pumps with a sling-back strap and a pleated red satin A-line dress. The straps of the dress are an inch wide, the collar revealing the perfect amount of her chest, and the length cutting off just above her ankles. Very classy. Alice passes the front desk security guard on her way to the elevators. He greets her and she waves amiably in response.

She walks out of the elevator on the 4th floor onto the office floor. Alice had been at Will’s firm several times before, he had worked there for nearly five years, but never this late in the day. The front desk is unmanned, the receptionist must have went home early. Further in the office, Alice passes secretary desks in rows next to glass enclosed office rooms of the law associates. The office is empty other than the few secretaries tidying up before heading home. Alice checks her watch. It is 6pm. Alice crosses the office floor to the back where Will’s office space is. She can see the light on is his office. Suddenly she turns around. She can hear a sound coming from somewhere in the office. Alice pauses, listening carefully. The sound, or the moans are coming from Will’s office.

Looking closely, Alice can see Will’s seated silhouette seen through the glass pane of his office window. His profile is turned towards the wall. Alice pauses and puts her ear close to the door.

She can hear Will saying “Yes, yes oh God May.”

Alice cocks her head to the side and slowly opens the office door. Something deep down inside her was telling her to walk away. Close the door and walk away.

When the door opened halfway it made a loud squeal. Alice sees the upper half of Will suddenly turn his head. His face drains of color and his eyes wide. He quickly makes a movement to pull his pants up, while remaining in a seated position. For a moment Alice is relieved, then a woman with blonde hair, who Alice realizes is kneeling on the ground, peeks her head up above his desk. Alice stands frozen in the doorway with a colorful bouquet of balloons for Will.

“Oh fuck, Will.” The woman scrambles around on all fours to find her undergarments and clothes, knocking over the trash basket full of papers and a banana peel. Alice sees the girl is much younger and much perkier.

“Al, shit why didn’t you call?” are the first words out of Will’s mouth.

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_________________________________________________

“God this feels so good to get off my chest. You know I haven’t told anyone?”

“Really?” Meredith looks sympathetic and it is heard in her voice.

“Yes, I thought about telling my sister, but I just didn’t know how to tell her without feeling ashamed. It all feels like it was somehow my fault.”

Meredith places a hand on Alice’s clasped hands. “You know that’s not true, the choices he made have nothing to do with you.”

“What gets me is that I didn’t suspect a thing. Who knows how long they were seeing each other, how many times they...” Alice pauses. The word she wants to use on her tongue, but her mouth won’t let it leave.

“Fucked? You know that you’re a grown woman and can say the word fuck?” Meredith teases.

“Um how many times they... fucked.” Alice laughs and covers her mouth with her hand.

“This is embarrassing Meredith but that’s not all. I spent two weeks gathering information on the girl I found him with. Her name was May French, an intern who hadn’t turned twenty-two yet. The girl is a student at Loyola Chicago! She’s in her senior year, studying business and economics.”

“Oh wow, how much research did you do?” Meredith questions increduously.

“Well, it was a lot of hands-on research”

______________________________________________________________________________

Days later, Alice waits in her car outside the intern’s apartment in downtown Chicago. Trying to camouflage she wore a pair of dark sunglasses and long black coat. She even brought a newspaper to draw less attention to herself. She had followed the intern from the law office after dropping the kids off at home. Alice didn’t like leaving them alone but felt that it wouldn’t be longer than a few hours and there was plenty of food for them in the refrigerator. She didn’t trust Sam with the stove, but Sarah had used it a couple times supervised. She could make instant mac and cheese and hot chocolate without burning the house down.

Through a pair of binoculars, Alice watched May go into her Chicago apartment around five thirty. Two hours had passed without anyone going in or out of the apartment door. The stakeout had lost the exhilarating edge it started with and had become cumbersome. Alice was unsure what she hoped to achieve. She mainly just felt like a victim and wanted to do something about it. Tailing the girl made her feel like she was acting to fix the situation even if situation could not be mended through immediate action. She had caught her husband cheating with another woman. That was a fact. No amount of information would reverse that fact. It was just an itch that Alice needed to scratch.

Finally at eight she sees May leave with two other women. The trio gather into a beat up Volkswagen beetle. Alice tails the car, careful to keep a two cars length distance. She is no professional but has watched several movies, including Double Indemnity. The girls pull up to a bar in downtown Chicago ten minutes later. It is dark out and the lights inside the bar make it easy to see inside. Alice finds open street parking on the corner and places her binoculars over her eyes. She watches May through the window, laughing, dancing, drinking, getting hit on by other men her age.

Alice sits outside watching May for the next two hours. Taken by this barely legal woman who has slept with her husband. A variation of emotions pass through Alice. Envy, anger, bitterness, sadness, loss, hurt. The final emotion that stays with her inevitably is fear. The fear of the loss of control. A little after ten Alice puts away her binoculars and drives home. As she leaves May is still at the bar with her friends and lovers, experiencing a euphoria reserved for the young.

“I don’t know why I went. I guess I wanted to see if he was still seeing her.”

“Mmm. You know about a year ago I found out Carl had a girl he was seeing in the city. At first I felt angry and helpless. No job and two boys to take care of. Carl knew that I depended on him and he took advantage of the power dynamic of our relationship.”

“But you’re still together?”

“Yes, I have found my way of making peace with it.”

“So, you’ve forgiven him?”

Meredith throws her head back and giggles. “Not exactly. Actually, what do you have going on this upcoming Thursday? There is a women’s group I go to in the evenings that I think you might find helpful or maybe a little cathartic.”

“I think I could make it next week just to try it out. Do you feel like it’s helped you?”

“Yes, definitely.” Meredith squeezes Alice’s hand and relaxes on the bench looking out on to the pond.

The park bench on which she sat was covered in green chipped paint that exposed the underlying wooden interior. Her body faced a wide stoned walkway. Rows of oak trees lined the path, providing a majestic touch as though those walking along the path were on a movie set.

Despite it being one in the afternoon on a weekday, a constant stream of people filtered past Thalia and sat around her. She was one of many spending their afternoon lounging the benches. To the right of her lay her yellow tote bag and a high-end grocery store half-eaten sushi bowl. Between her right index and middle fingers, she held a cigarette, the last one in the pack she had brought with her from Denver.

Instead of giving attention to her never-ending, loud, disruptive thoughts that followed her in her every waking moment, she was looking at the breeze blowing through the vibrant green leaves of the oak trees. She followed the light filtering through the leaves to the ground below. The wind provided motion to the would-be stagnant leaves to create an ever-changing mosaic of shadows along the people covered path.

Ordinarily, Thalia would find it impossible to quiet her mind, especially in a space where she was surrounded by others, but on that bench, in that particular moment, she was able to maintain a peace that did not come naturally to her. She didn’t need to use one of her weird breathing exercises or pick at her fingers. It was just a moment of unforced, true peace.

A foreigner to calm, a prisoner to a mind that never stopped, Thalia unintentionally put her dreams and worries on hold on that bench, if but for a short time. She was content to watch the trees, ignoring external distractions, absorbing the moment of stillness into her muscles, organs, veins, nerves, mind, and soul.

“Damn life is kinda beautiful,” she said aloud to no one in particular.

This is the last episode of you don’t belong here. If you read any of this I am extremely thankful, as it has become a practice for me in creating characters, worlds, and stories. The next project I will be writing is titled The Undesirables. I hope you’re able to give it a read. Thanks again. -Rhon

Thalia sat across from her sister in a mahogany chair at an upscale Italian restaurant. It was crowded to the point where the sisters and everyone else in the establishment were practically rubbing elbows. Thalia considered how if it weren’t for the capacity being at a hundred and fifty percent it would have had a nice ambiance. Across the room there was a blue backlit bar that ran the length of one of the white stone walls. Intricate glass blown chandeliers hung above the bar, emitting light onto the blacksmith looking bartenders who wore black leather aprons. Every bar seat was taken by a mixture of singles and couples waiting on a text to confirm they were the lucky recipient of a table, courtesy of an anonymous canceled reservation.

“I really want you to meet Lionel, I think things are going really well between us. Plus, I think you would like him, he likes nature and stuff.” Izzy rattled on about her life while cutting into the deconstructed eggplant parm that sat before her.

“I thought your boyfriend’s name was Perry?” Thalia poses in a supportive way not wanting to sound envious of anything her sister shared with her. Even though there was so much of Izzy’s that Thalia secretly coveted.

“Tallie, I broke up with Perry two months ago. He was a hoarder. Old news. Now, Lionel is actually perfect. He’s six foot, works in publishing, and went to Cornell.”

“Wait so how long have you known him?”

“It’s been almost six weeks, but our first date turned into a three-day marathon and we just got to know each other so well you know. I really feel like he might be my soulmate.”

Thalia puffed her cheeks out and took a long exhale. She made a conscious effort to make a bubble bursting sound as she let her cheeks deflate.

“Okay don’t do your weird breathing thing. Enough about me, how are you doing? I’ve heard mom’s point of view but I want to hear yours.”

“Mom doesn’t get to have a point of view.”

“I know, I know. You hate it when you come up in conversation.”

“No, I hate when I come up in conversation and I’m not present in the room. It’s basically gossiping.”

“Well that’s what family does.” Izzy shrugged the statement off in a careless way only she could manage.

Thalia wanted to confide in her sister about the heaviness and loneliness of the past few months, but after hearing about her sister’s reality tv show life in New York City, she couldn’t do it. “I mean yeah I haven’t been working for the last handful of months, but that’s purely because I’m looking for the right fit. I’m honestly not too worried, it’s nice to have the time off.” Thalia was lying by the skin of her teeth.

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“Okay don’t take too long though, debt piles up real quick if you’re not careful. What about your love life? Any suitors? Return visitors to your honey pot?”

“God Izzy, my honey pot?”

“Yeah honey pot! You know what I mean! Has anyone taken a dip in your honey pot?!”

Thalia moans and rubs her forehead. “Izzy, please stop yelling about my honey pot. No one has been anywhere near it for a while now.”

“Seriously Thalia? You’re twenty-five, you need to get out there while your honey pot is still sweet.”

Thalia hides her face in her hands not wanting to entertain her sister with any more details about her dreadful, boring life.

“Okay fine I’ll change the subject.” Izzy reaches over to pull her sister’s hands away from her face. “Wanna split a slice of the cheesecake?” She says with Thalia’s hands in hers and a smile.

“You buyin’?”

“Duh, goofy-face.”

“Bring it on then.”

Four in the morning Thalia wakes up. Both of her hands clench her stomach. “Shit.” Thalia throws the lavender polyester blanket off her body and scampers to the bathroom.

Minutes later down the dark and narrow cemented halls of the New York loft, Thalia is on the toilet making violent sounds. The noises get so loud that her sister wakes up from bed across the hall.

Izzy cracks open the bathroom door to investigate. “Jesus Thalia, what did you eat?” Izzy raises the collar of her t-shirt to cover her mouth and nose.

“You know fancy food like the stuff you fed me tonight gives me the bubble guts.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I feel fine.”

“Whatever Iz, just leave me alone.”

“Make sure to use the spray under the counter and scrub the toilet bowl too.”

“Close the door!” Thalia shouts helplessly.

Izzy does so, but not before she emphatically turns on the bathroom fan.

When the door shuts Thalia is left sat on the toilet doubled over in pain and her stomach continues to speak in an unknown tongue.

Thalia didn’t mind the airports or traveling the way everyone around her seemed to. She was okay with the added lines and uncomfortable seats if it meant going somewhere new. Being at the airport meant something fresh was on the horizon; she just had to wait to get there. Walking to the baggage claim, Thalia shut out all of the negative noise that surrounded her. She was on her way to enjoy a two-week stay in New York with her big sister, an indelible, paid-for adventure that was sure to bring about even the smallest amount of change she needed. An in-country “eat, pray, love.”

In front of her on the moving walkway was a younger woman with a short dark brown bob. There was a bright pink animal carrier in one of her hands and a maroon carry-on suitcase in the other. Thalia had her signature over the ear headphones on but could hear a screech that sounded like a combination of a parrot and a donkey coming from the pink carrier. She tried to bend over to look into the mesh door on one side, but a decently thick piece of cardboard, wedged into the carrier, blocked her view.

“Excuse me?”

Thalia jerked her head up to see the woman looking at her with a sneer. “Oh I’m sorry, I just heard a weird sound and wanted to know what was in the carrier.” Thalia laughs nervously to lighten the mood, but the woman has no interest in apologies.

“None of your business.” The look on the woman’s face deepened before she swiftly turned her back to Thalia.

Thalia muttered “sheesh” under her breath. She reconsidered if she had thick enough skin to make it in New York for two weeks. While something about touching down in the “Big Apple” gave her an excited buzz, she noticed a lack of smiles and common courtesy compared to what she was used to back west. Thalia figured that she was only in the airport, not the actual city. Who knew if these unhappy people were even from New York?

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She slowly and inefficiently made her way to the baggage claim, getting turned around by the bright, but misleading signs hovering above her. Six moving walkways, Two trains, a flight of stairs, and an escalator later, Thalia arrived at the number ten carousel. The screen above matched with the digital ticket on her phone that read, flight number: 9104 and the airline, Delta.

She joined the huddle of bystanders waiting around for their bag to circle in front of them. Most people were on their phones, a few staring off into space detached from reality, some intently watching their bags. Because she had two checked bags, Thalia planned to grab one bag then wait to grab the other until it came back around to avoid looking foolish. There were a sizable number of bags already on the conveyor belt shuffling around, waiting to be pulled. She had sent her sister Izzy a text when the plane landed and let her know that she would be at her apartment in the next two hours. Izzy didn’t have a car because she wanted to experience life as a true New Yorker but offered to pay for Thalia’s Uber. Thalia, not in a position to turn down offers of money or payment for things she needed, accepted Izzy’s generosity without hesitation.

Immediately after texting her sister to let her know she was at the baggage claim, Thalia sees the first of her luggage, a plain black suitcase with an identifying pink duct tape wrapped around the handle. Placing her phone into the side of her backpack she steps forward, reaches down and tugs the bag up but it’s much heavier than she remembers. Both bags were under the fifty-pound weight limit when she checked-in at the departures airline counter. Walking along hunched over with the bag she kept pulling and saying “excuse me” to multiple people she had to step by while struggling with her suitcase now made of lead.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Thalia heard the words but didn’t assign them as belonging to her so she continued to pull at the bag.

“Hey, you. That’s my bag.” This time there was an edge to the voice, and the words were followed by Thalia feeling a tap tap tap on her shoulder.

Thalia turned backwards, still hunched over, to see once again the young woman with the severe bob and loud animal, giving Thalia the same look of disgust as she had given earlier.

“Nope, this is my bag.” Thalia said placatingly, not wanting to irritate the stranger any further. With one final pull and added motivation to get away from the woman, Thalia finally got her bag off the carousel.

“Oh my god it’s so heavy,” Thalia said to no one in particular.

“Come on, what’s your problem? Are you deaf? That’s my bag.” The woman’s voice had risen in volume. She was becoming more upset by the minute.

“No it’s n-” Thalia pauses when she realizes that her bag was a Samsonite, not a Jansport. She goes further to check the paper tag airlines give you to label your luggage. She read an unknown name, address, and phone number.

“I’m sorry I-” the woman didn’t let Thalia finish snatching the bag from her hand.

“I guess you’re fucking blind too,” the woman said with venom that thalia felt was undeserved.

The lady left for the exit as Thalia stood, not focused on the bags slowly moving past her but focused on her hurt feelings and ego. As she did with everything else that happened to her, she assumed that two random confrontations with the same woman could only spell out a bad omen for the rest of her New York trip. She tried to think if she had done something awful in the past couple of weeks that would have earned her this bad karma. There was nothing she could think of, but still took the entire situation personally, not thinking for a second that what had happened was just a coincidence.

Minutes later, partially recovered from the onslaught of insults, Thalia can finally see her black luggage with the pink tape and the other green luggage sitting right next to it. Wary of grabbing someone else’s bag she reads the tag on the handle of both bags this time. She grabs one. It’s light, like how she remembered. Then she waits for the other to come back around. Her mood around being at the airport had soured considerably but she regained some energy thinking of seeing her sister for the first time in a year. She pulled her bags away from baggage claim to the pick-up area and unlocked her phone to get into the Uber app.

“Yeah it’s been a while babe, do you want to meet Saturday? Grocery shopping at sprouts then happy hour?

She had sent him a cold text after not hearing from him for over a month two days ago. He had finally gotten back to her in record fast time for him. That was the problem with social friends like Lucas, he had so many options and made friends so easily that people he met along the way could easily fall through the cracks.

“Okay Luc, but lets make it the King Soopers in Cap Hill instead, I’m on a budget”

Thalia pressed send on her voice note and swiped right to see the rest of the messages she had put off responding to. There was only one of importance; it came from her sister Isabella; or as it was saved in Thalia’s phone, Izzy.

“Hey how are you doing Tallie? Mom said you’re having a hard time finding a job back home. Maybe it would help to come out and visit me in New York? A change of scenery and a place to think about your options. I would cover your ticket, just let me know.”

Thalia sighed, reclining back into the couch, clasping both her hands behind her head while she looked up at the ceiling. Izzy was doing really well for herself. Of course Thalia was proud of her, but she couldn’t help but compare their accomplishments and lack thereof.

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Thalia recalled how they both grew up as model students, school was a piece of cake for them. Not only were academics a breeze, but they boosted their social standings with extracurriculars. Thalia was a four-time state qualifier in cross country and a member of the student government. Izzy was the head-editor of the yearbook as an upperclassman and a passionate member of the speech and debate club. When Izzy began college Thalia entered into her junior year fully expecting to follow in the steps of her sister, and she did, accepting an academic scholarship from CU Boulder.

It made Thalia smile at how things were. How her sister and her mirrored one another in achievements, not in a competitive sibling rivalry, but encouraging one another to do more and succeed. Thalia followed closely behind her sister up until her senior year of college, six months after the pandemic.

After 2020 Izzy continued to achieve, getting into law school at NYU. She moved cross country while Thalia stayed back home at CU to finish her undergraduate degree. During this time something inside Thalia shifted. Completing class work and assignments wasn’t a problem for her as it was an embedded piece of her muscle memory. She could do the performance of school without a second thought. What had changed was her spark.

Thalia became an observer instead of a participant in her own life. Whatever light she had inside of her that carried her through high school and most of college had been dimmed. Thalia regretted not recognizing this change in herself sooner. Acknowledging this would have prompted her to slow down, maybe taking a year off between college graduation and entering the workforce, but she couldn’t help but want to continue at the pace Izzy had set.

As Thalia was experiencing this shift of personality, Izzy had continued on with life as normal. Her trajectory stayed the course, undergrad, law school, position at an immigration law office. Izzy had stayed in New York and got an apartment on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. Thalia went out to visit about a year ago when Izzy first moved into her new apartment, but infrequently stayed in touch with her sister, dealing with her own demons.

Pulling out of her nostalgic reminiscing, Thalia continued to stare at the ceiling.

After another deep inhale, Thalia looked down at her phone and typed “I’m okay. Maybe I will be able to visit soon, I have some job interviews coming up soon.” Thalia deleted that response and tried again. “Yeah, things are not great right now, I’m applying to jobs that I don’t even want without much luck.” Again, Thalia erased the message. “Please tell mom to stop using me as a point of conversation. Makes me feel shitty. It’s true I don’t have a job right now, but I’m being careful to look for the right fit. New York sounds fun though, let me know what days you can take off.” After re-reading and editing the message three times, Thalia hits send, throwing her phone behind her onto the bed.

She stayed splayed on the couch with her neck resting on the arm of the couch, her left arm on her stomach, her right arm dangling onto the floor, and her feet hanging off the opposite end of the couch. Thalia thought about how a trip to New York might give her the perspective she needed to end the feelings of being stuck in her own life.

Thalia shuffled her feet to the left and right, an impatient penguin dance to burn off the excess energy she constantly carried around with her. Today she planned a Monday day trip to the mall where she could browse clothes and makeup she couldn’t afford. Maybe she would inquire at some of the stores to see if they were hiring.

Approximately ten feet down from her on the train platform Thalia noticed a woman taking a nap on one of the rail benches, letting the rays of sun hit her leathery, red face covered in wrinkles that had turned into grooves across her cheeks and neck. The woman rested her head on a dirt-stained black backpack, a bottle of mountain dew sitting in its mesh side pocket. She wore a navy-blue Nuggets hoodie and wide flare jeans that were stained on the bottoms the same as her backpack.

Just as Thalia motioned to check her tote for any spare dollar bills the ringing bells of the approaching train sounded on her right. The older woman was aroused from her slumber and one leg at a time entered into an upright position. She reached, in slow motion, to grab her bag that lay on the bench. In the way it hung in her hands a bystander could tell it was heavy. Just as the train arrived, with much effort, the woman slung the bag around her shoulders. She must have felt Thalia’s eyes on her and turned to look Thalia right in the eyes. Not wanting to be some weirdo staring at this poor woman, Thalia averted her gaze to the train doors as they slid into view before her.

She entered the second car back from the conductor and grabbed a seat facing East, the direction she was traveling, because seats facing the opposite direction gave her motion sickness. Poking around her tote bag, Thalia pulled out a stick of lip balm and tucked her phone away, content to stare out the window for the next thirty minutes.

A few minutes later, face to the window, her headphones now playing “What a Fool Believes” by the Doobie Brothers, Thalia was oblivious to the woman standing in the aisle beside her. Thalia startled when she felt a tap on her shoulder, snapping her head to the side. Thalia looked up in surprise to see the lady with the wrinkles and leathered skin. Now that she had Thalia’s attention the woman spoke, but Thalia only saw her lips move soundlessly, the music playing muting all external sound. Thalia pulls off her headphones with both hands and lets them hang on the back of her neck.

“Miss is this seat taken?” the woman croaks. Her lips are severely chapped and peeling.

Thalia pauses, knowing that the train is maybe twenty-five percent full, enough space for each passenger currently boarded to have a row to themselves.

“Sure.” Thalia responds flatly.

Thalia moves her headphones back in place on top of her ears and hugs her bag closer to her chest.

Not a second after returning her gaze to the window, Thalia feels another tap on her shoulder. This time she isn’t surprised, instead she feels anxious and annoyed that she has such a hard time being assertive when enforcing her shallow boundaries. Her headphones go from her ears to her neck again as she turns her head towards the old woman.

“Nice day we’re having,” she says without a hint of sarcasm.

“Sure, is,” Thalia responds, not wanting to further the small talk.

“I’m May,” the woman said, holding out her wrinkled hand.

Thalia loosely took May’s hand, “Thalia.”

“You headed anywhere special today?” May asks, staring at Thalia earnestly.

“Just the mall,” Thalia was panicking internally, not knowing how to exit the conversation.

“Ah, yes, the mall. Last time I went to the mall I was thrown out on the suspicion of stealing. I swear I just wanted a pretzel and had the money to pay for it. So, what I was a little intoxicated on some leftover vodka my pal Shrimps gave to me? I had the money. I guess the mall’s no place for a homeless gal.”

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Thalia looks at May incredulously, not sensing an undertone of irony. Thalia leaned back into the blue patent leather light rail seats, trying to formulate an appropriate response to this strange woman’s story.

“How long have you been homeless?” Thalia questions in an impulsive rush of nosiness.

“Well let’s see I left Oregon in 1986, but had a van back then, so I technically wasn’t homeless, but around 1995, I got so tired of the rat race I quit my cushy corporate job without a plan B. From there it was a string of odd jobs and moving from place to place for almost ten years until I came to settle down here in Denver. I got pretty ill in 2010 and all of the medical bills bankrupted me, so the government repossessed my van. From then on I’ve been in shelters or get lucky and crash with friends I’ve made along the way of life. To answer your question plainly, about a decade.” May pauses then continues just as Thalia is about to open her mouth to speak.

“It’s not so bad though. I never fit in with society to begin with. I didn’t belong anywhere and didn’t like to follow the rules. I guess I’m what the fancy scientist people call anti-social. Of course, winters are a bitch and people pity me, but I get to do what I want when I want. There’s no boss to impress, no schedule to answer to. I have reached the ultimate freedom. I’m at a place I think many people search for their whole lives to never find. I can confidently say there are people in homes who are unhappier than I am.”

“Wow, I never thought about it like that.” Thalia is impressed with the woman’s story, ignoring the smell of alcohol and body odor.

May smiles at Thalia. “My stop is coming up. Do you think you could loan me a few dollars, just to get some lunch?”

Damn, she got me, Thalia thought.

“Sorry I don’t carry cash on me.”

“No problem, babe, I have Venmo.” May whips out a cheap android from her backpack and swipes through a few pages to find a qr code. She holds the phone out to Thalia.

Thalia sighs, knowing there’s no way out of this one. She scans the qr code with her phone and Venmos ten dollars she doesn’t have to the woman with the username “nomad4lifer_1.”

“Ten? Not bad, I’ll see you around kid, have a blessed day.” May rises, her knees popping under the weight of her backpack as she does. May then exits the light rail on Clermont St.

Thalia scratches her head. She’s been conned. Such easy pickings. The headphones are lifted back onto her ears. Her thoughts wander to picture homeless May working a corporate job. The old woman filling out spreadsheets and sending emails at a desk while wearing smelly, stained clothes.

Thalia’s music blares, as the light rail speaker with an AI generated voice says, “next stop Speer and Downing.”

Standing in front of the mirror she smoothed down the edges of her hair with gel. She swirled airy mounds of mousse into her hair, still cropped to a short afro. Thalia peeled the band-aids off of her right fingers first. Patches of red lined her nail beds. Dried blood remained from her recent skin-picking spree. She resorted to the use of adhesive bandages as a barrier to deter her anxiety driven behavior.

“I have charisma.”

“I am charming.”

“I’m good with people.”

“People like me.”

“I am funny.”

Thalia repeated the affirmations clearly looking into the mirror with an earnest intensity that only a person living alone could produce with any degree of seriousness.

Satisfied with her appearance, hoping no one in the interview noticed her mutilated fingers, Thalia left the bathroom and headed to the front door.

Thalia steps off the bus onto Champa St. Off-white linen top, brown slacks, tan blazer and platform leather penny loafers, her best interview attire. Standing in front of the twenty-story downtown office building she held a sideways hand to her face. It trembled in rhythm with the quick pace of her heartbeat. Nervous failed to describe how she really felt. It was more like her stomach was under attack by tiny blender butterflies, causing her stomach to churn and body to shake. Thalia took one uncertain step forward pushing the thoughts of failure to the margins of her subconscious.

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Sitting at an oblong table among three other candidates who seem to have all previously known each other before the interview, Thalia sat opposite the others, fiddling with her fingers. There were two white women in their early thirties. Thalia didn’t have to guess their age because they were chatting about life post-twenties. The other interviewee was an Asian guy who was either twenty-three or forty-five, Thalia wasn’t sure.

After about five minutes of Thalia watching the others get to know each other, the interviewer entered the room. He’s a forty- something white man who looks like he could be George Bush’s love child. He takes a seat at the end of the table in the middle of Thalia and the other applicants.

“Welcome everyone, it’s nice to see that you all made it here. If we haven’t met yet, I’m Jeff, the hiring manager for Poversine corp. You all are here for the engagement specialist position? If not, you can see your way out.” Jeff smiles and starts to chuckle at his own joke. The other three applicants follow suit. Thalia waits for the punchline.

He clears his throat, noting Thalia’s lack of humor. “Alright excellent, let’s jump right in, can everyone go around and share a bit about themselves and why they’re interested in this position? I usually start to my left, Thalia, is it?” Jeff gestures towards Thalia.

She quickly composes herself regretting not warming up with a little small talk with her competition. “Yes, well my name is Thalia.” She gives a sniffle feeling a wet sensation on her upper lip.

“I’ve spent the past three years as a copywriter, primarily for-” Thalia stops mid-sentence to dab her nose with the back of her hand. It still feels like her nose is running.

“Are you okay Miss Moore?” The interviewer questions.

Thalia looks over to see everyone sitting across from her staring at her face with concern. Touching her nose once more she could feel the wetness trickling down to her chin. Pulling her hand back she can see red covering her fingers.

Immediately cupping her nose and mouth with both hands Thalia uses her legs to push her chair back, stands up, and moves quickly towards the door. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back,” her voice muffled.

Scurrying around the unfamiliar office space, Thalia finally finds the bathroom, after no less than five questioning glances from desk bound wage slaves. Inside the two stall febreezed restroom, her eyes anxiously search for paper towels, but there is only a single hand dryer. Opening one of the stalls with her elbows Thalia targets the roll of toilet paper hanging from the metal divider. She grabs a few squares with one hand, but as she moves her hand away from her face the now considerable amount of blood slides its way through the cracks of her fingers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Now with one hand free Thalia pulls the roll of toilet paper three, four times until she holds a small heap of tp in between her hands. In the process of moving the toilet paper from her hands to her nose, more than a few drops of blood spill onto the bathroom floor and toilet seat.

“Crap.” Thalia holds the wad of toilet paper to her nose with her left hand while grasping for more paper with her right. The roll keeps unfurling as Thalia tries to hold her head back, pinch the bridge of her nose, and apply pressure with the toilet paper. Amassing what seemed to be enough toilet paper, Thalia tore the paper and patted the ground with her foot. She began to make an attempt to clean her blood from the toilet seat, but it was difficult to wipe while her head was tilted to the ceiling.

“Hey Tiana, you in here?” Thalia recognized the male voice coming from the bathroom door as the interviewer.

“Yes, it’s Thalia” she says weakly through layers of toilet paper.

“Oh sorry, Thalia. I wanted to check in to see if you were okay. We didn’t know whether or not to continue without you.”

“I think I’ll be a second. Just go ahead without me.”

“You sure? I don’t have another meeting until one.”

Thalia sighs. “I’m sure.”

She hears the bathroom door slam close. Thalia is left leaning against the small stall with splatters of crimson red on the collar of her blazer.

Earlier today Shake had seen two homeless people dead in the alley. As Shake was going out to throw away the trash at the end of the shift, they saw one woman and a man. The woman looked young. Long, tangled brown hair, obvious signs of drug use with scars, poc marks covering her face, and a gaunt willowy look. But despite her apparent substance abuse problem a youthful halo surrounded her. The man, older, seemed like he had been using for much longer, maybe the dealer, the supplier who got her hooked on what would soon lead to the end. Huddled up next to the dumpster with nothing but a couple of blankets and sleeping bag, there was no chance they would have made it through the night in the below freezing weather.

Thoughts bounced across Shake’s mind about what would have led to them not finding a better shelter to keep them warm. Maybe they were so high the wintery elements didn’t cross their minds. Their consciousness was somewhere the cold couldn’t touch. Discovering the bodies didn’t come as a shock to Shake. In fact, Shake stood there, in the alley, staring at the couple for a few minutes with a black trash bag in each hand. In a way Shake was not processing what they were seeing. Instead behind their eyes they envisioned a life story for the couple, in that they would have a meaningful death. A story that made their situation make sense, gave their lives value.

Shake named them Ray and Stephanie. In Shake’s imagination, they met while Stephanie was still in high school. Ray, an older man in his twenties or thirties, looking to take advantage of a young girl. They got married after Stephanie turned 18, prompting her to drop out before graduating. Her parents did not make a fuss as this was the same path they followed 20 years prior. Ray struggled to keep a job while Stephanie found a passion as a hairstylist at the local salon. After several construction and moving jobs, Ray became bitter towards the world and turned to drinking. This caused him to sabotage the good in Stephanie’s life, but she loved him and couldn’t let him go. He heavily drank cheap liquor on the regular, causing him to lash out against everyone, including Stephanie. The slippery slope of life came and whisked Ray and Stephanie down it and they soon found themselves on the street. Never finding peace in their waking hours, they sought out sedation through whatever they could get their hands on.

“Shake what’s taking so long?” Shake heard their manager yell through the crack in the back door. Stuck in thought Shake’s response was delayed. Slowly, they threw in the trash bags and closed the dumpster lid. Shake went back inside to the kitchen without a second look at Ray and Stephanie. Shake washed their hands, once, twice, three times to rid themself of the dirty feeling that fell upon them every time they had to touch trash. “Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty” Shake thought as they scrubbed each digit and palms.

“Shake are you done with the trash? I need you to cash out the register before you head home.”

“Yeah I got it” Shake responded in a breathy voice.

Shake headed to the front of the restaurant through the kitchen. A small family owned Asian-fusion restaurant. Cheaply decorated, full of thrifted trinkets and quintessential Asian touches to add to the off-putting attempt at authenticity. A golden waving cat, a paper mache red dragon, large orchid folding fans along the wall. A short look around the restaurant spelled out that the owners had never visited Asia or even had a conversation with an Asian person. The menu selections of Mac and cheese Szechuan and fried rice casserole were also dead giveaways.

The restaurant was empty besides one family of four. A mom and dad with a little girl who appeared to be on the spectrum and a teenage boy existing in his own world, also likely on the spectrum. They appeared to be a mixed family, based on looks, the daughter belonged to the mother and the boy born to the father. Wary of telling the family that the restaurant had been closed for several minutes, Shake did the routine slow close. Filling the mop bucket, bringing it out into view, shutting down the soft drink machine, then bringing out the cash tray, receipts, and calculator to the high table in front to complete the end of night register count.

Closing five days a week, sometimes six or seven when Robin called out, made Shake pretty intolerant of customers who ignored the stated hours of operation in a big yellow font at the front door. This family was different. Shake felt some affinity for the pack of four that sat at the table before them tonight. Maybe it was the girl making clicking and humming sounds, while nonverbally refusing to eat anything but Mac and cheese. Or maybe it was the boy who reminded Shake so much of themself, absorbed in some game on his phone, shutting out the scary, messy, complicated outer world.

Ideally if Shake wasn’t alone in this city and had any skills favorable to not working around people they would be just as distant as the young man sitting before them. A few more semesters of coding classes and Shake would never have to utter the words “How can I help you?” ever again.

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“No Polly, stop, let go now, stop” yelled the mother trying to wrestle chopsticks out of her daughter’s small hands.

Without luck, this loud reprimand caused her daughter to take off across the restaurant and under a table with chopsticks in hand. The mother let out a long sigh while standing up and moving towards her daughter on the other side of the restaurant. This event seemed to not register in the minds of the father or son, who were both consumed in their digital worlds.

Shake felt sympathy for this mother but was anxious to get to Marlene’s house. Shake proceeded to grab the mop to swab the bathroom floors in hopes that by the time they finished up the family would be on their way out. As Shake rolled the mop bucket to the bathroom in the back they caught a glimpse of the little girl under the table. She was waving the chopstick rhythmically in front of her eyes. Quickly back and forth, like a sped-up metronome. She wore a pink jersey dress with a team number on the back and front, surrounded with small Hawaiian flowers. She did not have any shoes on, just dirty socks that at some point were probably white. The mother was squatting down, patience wearing thin, attempting to coax her daughter out from under the table with frustrated words and bribes.

“Please babe let’s, go. You can watch Blippi in the car as we head home. I have candies in my purse.”

For a moment the little girl glances at Shake, pulled out of her trance. The squeaky sounds of the mop bucket wheels intrigue her. Shake rolls the bucket nearer to her and shows her the mop. The little girl is transfixed by the water dripping down and reaches out to grab it. As the little girl reaches out, the mother grabs her daughter’s hand, yanks her up and pulls her back to the dinner table, only uttering “come on” to her child without taking the slightest glance towards Shake. As she was being drug back to the table the little girl did not make a sound but gazed at the mop in Shake’s hand with interest, her chopstick still clenched in her fist.

Shake puts the mop back in the bucket and heads to the bathroom. They think “a thank-you or nod would have been nice.” The mother seemed to have a lot on her plate, but Shake couldn’t help but take the interaction personally adding to the invisibility they felt on a daily basis. There were two bathrooms in the back of the restaurant. One for men and one for women. Upon entering the men’s restroom Shake starts mopping around the toilets. Near the sink, Shake places the mop to the side and picks up scattered paper towels, putting them in the trash can where they belong. The trash reminds Shake of the dumpsters out back and the deceased couple in the cold.

***short story written in 2022. Returning to you don’t belong here ep.9 next week

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