“They’re kind of like ghost characters,” director Denis Villeneuve said of the recurring motif of trees in [Prisoners]. “They’re always there, at least in the background. Each scene you can feel their presence. And they are linked with this idea of necessary violence. The producers came to me and said, ‘Denis, you have been shooting a tree for the last half an hour, there are five Hollywood stars in their trailer, we are a 200-person crew and you are having fun shooting a fucking tree … We were always trying to express things with as few shots and saying as little as possible. This shot was designed not to be understood, but to be felt. It has a subconscious feeling that can vibrate in your soul. [It functions] like a dread, an omen. It’s like when you suddenly have a bad feeling but you don’t understand what it means, it’s linked with intuition.
Other than Deakins and Villeneuve, most people thought “the tree shot” was precious, self-indulgent; something that wouldn’t end up in the movie. Months later, the film was finished and Villeneuve was at a barbecue hosted by one of the film’s same producers. As he’s flipping burgers, he called over the director: “Do you know what the best shot is of ‘Prisoners’? The tree shot!” (x)
Andrew Garfield on Sugarscape (x)
This tea is awful. It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t believe that lazy shit idyllic pastoral landscape on the goddamn cardboard box. It’s a damn lie and if you drink this tea you’ll know the heart of minty darkness
Like OK I appreciate that it tries to prepare you for whats inside by a cute picture on the box. Fresh green mint leaves, and some candy cane sticks to get you in that shitty assfaced Christmas mood. Look it’s even tied with a repugnant little red bow. fuck this tea.
So if you open the box and immediately steep a cup prepare to get one of those cute lil candy canes up your FUCKING NOSE and in your FUCKING EYES because this shit doesn’t know personal space in the same way a demon from hell doesn’t know a loving God.
I hope you like drinking your throat lozenges because here’s a blistering stream an actual menthol golem would piss down your fucking throat while you gag on its candy-striped wiener.
So you lock this shit in a box for 3 months while you recover from the worst toothpaste-flavored blowjob of your life and maybe get yourself together again. You recover. You move on. Things are looking pretty up and you think back, well maybe that godforsaken tea didn’t really taste like a peppermint Siberia. So you make a cup like the foolish piece of shit you are
and you’re right, but so wrong about the character and nature of your mistake you might as well star in Greek tragedy. You pathetic bag of bollocks.
because in the months its been locked in a top-shelf tomb the life and vehement mint-based hatred for the physical world has withered and desiccated out of its soulless teabag husks.
Now what you have got in your fucking unfortunate mug is a hot steaming cup of fuck you that tastes like the inside of the birch tree on the fucking box, or maybe Santa’s tears mixed with mummy dust, or midwinter leaf litter a vaguely minty dog only rolled in once.
The aftertaste stinks of wax. Why wax? Because it wants to remind you that you’re the kid who ate birthday candles in first grade, that’s why. And every single other bad decision you now regret.
fuck this tea. fuck it, it tastes like a hollow mannequin of a tea, hot leaf swill unfit to fertilize even fake fucking flowers.Maybe you could tan leather in it. I don’t fucking know but get it away from me and the human race. Fucking shoot it at the moon where it belongs with all of the other celestial fucking seasonings. fuck
hey you wanna do a fun prank we can hold hands and cuddle and makeout and make everyone think we’re dating it will be so hilarious
Photoset reblogged from with 2,681 notes
Alexander Skarsgård by Larry Busacca [Sundance, 2013]
Lauren Cohan and Steven Yeun for Los Angeles Magazine
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