Scarlett Letters

Why? Because it never occurred to me that there would be Clint/Natasha fanfic out there in the universe. What's more: It never occurred to me that people would be creating fantasy movie posters about Black Widow and Hawkeye's time in Budapest. I mean seriously. Look at this one. And this one. I mean, are these awesome, or what? Go google up "Clint Natasha Budapest." The fannish creative instinct is alive and well. How awesome is that?

Count 'em: 10. Because apparently one movie needs to feature every single character on their own poster. Makes you wonder if it's in everyone's contract. At the same time, I understand the superhero thing: everyone's got their favorite and you want your guy center stage in that poster on your bedroom wall. You know. If you hang these things on your bed room wall. Which, if you're over 19, you might not want to do. (Unless it's RDJ, but that's just me. Then again, maybe not this poster because, well, no particular sex appeal in this poster. On the other hand, now all I want to do is pet Chris Hemsworth's biceps. Really, go look at that poster and tell me that that bicep doesn't demand significant fondling. Just sayin'.)

Ahem.

What I wanted to do was also make note of some other things about these posters.

1. It's not the women who get the "Look at my ass" pose--it's the robot villian.

2. Neither of the women are particularly sexualized--yay! Black Widow is appropriately bad-ass. If Scarlet Witch is going into battle, though, I hope to God she's going to pull her hair back. Seriously.

3. Look at the stitching and seaming on the costumes made of fabric. Seriously. These are not homemade concoctions. Who spends that much time making clothes so completely and perfectly tailored when you've got a world to save? Where did these people get these clothes? I mean, seriously: Look at Captain America's uniform. Look at Hawkeye's. Look at Black Widow's. That's some insane stitching.

4. Where's my Falcon poster? Where's my Loki poster? Where are my Peggy Carter and Heimdall posters, I ask you?

5. Samuel L. Jackson: Baddest ass of 'em all. Always and forever.

I've attended many an entertainment this month and haven't mentioned a number of them (though I did cover Ender's Game and Music's Darkest Harvest). I'm falling behind on my LJ duties as cultural (and personal) chronicler. What have I seen lately?

Sugar Daddies at ACT: Sasha, a rather socially innocent college-age woman attending culinary school, helps a 70ish man out of the street when he's nearly run down by a truck and finds herself befriended by him. Suddenly "Uncle Val" is buying her clothes, taking her to the opera, and coaching her in demeanor and decorating. When her neighbor Ashley--another older man who finds himself charmed by her--recognizes Uncle Val and implies he's not the benevolent friend that he presents himself to be, our heroine protests. And then she begins to realize the insidious nature of Uncle Val's friendship and presence. The play, by Alan Ayckbourn, was another one of ACT's sturdy, excellent productions. I felt as though I could have predicted that Uncle Val wasn't the wholesome character he presented himself to be. I was glad when Sasha began to recognize what was happening to her as a result of their relationship. In some respects, the story followed a familiar formula, but the production found ways to make it, if not fresh, at least entertaining enough for an pleasant evening's pastime.

Peter and the Starcatcher at the Moore Theater: I attended this show by the good offices of shellyinseattle in the company of her, her mom and her daughter, and enjoyed myself enormously. The show is basically a sort of prequel to Peter Pan. Lord Leonard Aster has been tasked by the Queen to transport a mysterious chest across the sea. He enlists his daughter Molly to help him. They are Starcatchers--people who retrieve and care for star stuff that has fallen from the sky. They split forces, each taking a different ship to get to their destination, as a way to fool pirates after their mysterious star stuff. Along the way, Molly befriends three boys being shipped off as slaves, and also realizes that though she thought her ship was the decoy, it actually contains the chest with the star stuff in it. When their ship is captured by pirates, mayhem and adventure ensue. The show has been marketed locally as an entertainment for kids (though its subtitle is "An Adult's Prequel to Peter Pan"), and the child with us enjoyed it well enough, but there's a lot of meat on the bones for adults to enjoy and, in some respects, I think there's more for the adult crowd than for children. Impressionistic in production, broadly performed (for the kids, I think), it sets that stage for Peter and Wendy down the road. The evening's showstopping performance was by John Sanders who played Black Stache, the captain of the pirates. He was funny, smooth and charismatic as the man destined to become Captain Hook, and his performance made the show for me. Megan Stein as Molly was appealing in a feisty, well-scrubbed, tom-boyish-becoming-a-woman way. It wasn't a show I might have seen by myself, but I had fun with it, am glad to have seen it, and am grateful for the gift of the ticket.

The Atomic Bomshells . . . LOST IN SPACE! at the Triple Door: The Atomic Bombshells are a local burlesque troop who regularly perform at the Triple Door, among other venues. This show was a science fiction-themed romp across the galaxy with music, dance, strip-tease, and some aerial arts. The comedy was broad, the striptease mostly good though occasionally not as nuanced as I prefer. One guest star was Waxie Moon, who blew me away the first time I attended a show during the Moisture Festival. I wasn't quite as choked up by this performance as by the last one, but the reception he received demonstrated that he's clearly a local star. varina8 and I had fun, the meal was delicious (the Triple Door shares a kitchen with Wild Ginger, one of the finest Asian restaurants in town), and we had a good night overall.

On a related note, I have been thinking that I want to catch Land of the Sweets, this year's burlesque Nutcracker, also at the Triple Door, but I must find company with whom to attend, and we must acquire tickets sooner rather than later, methinks.

Thor: The Dark World: The second Thor film has our goldie-locked, muscle-bound hero fighting off the Dark Elves, lead by Christopher Eccleston in make-up that renders him nearly unrecognizable as Malekith, a dark elf bent on universal domination. Malekith's secret weapon, gossamer stuff called aether, possesses Jane Foster, Thor's human love, and thus doth the battle begin. Everyone in this film is good, taking it exactly as seriously as needed to completely sell the story. Eccleston and Tom Hiddleston, who is delicious as Loki, are marvelous fun to watch, and the remarkably pretty Chris Hemsworth sells Thor so effectively that I bought him hook, line and sinker. But then, I really enjoyed the first Thor film as well, mainly on the strength of Hemsworth's performance. As one friend pointed out, the movie features a lot of kick-ass women, which really pleased me. I was delighted to see how much screen time the women got and how bad-ass they all are. Though I have to say, if Thor's going to fall for someone, I want her to have a little more substance than we've seen from Jane Foster. I dig that he likes her because she's "clever," as he says; it's rare for men on screen to want a woman because she's got brains. But because they get so little on-screen time together, I feel like their attraction is driven more by chemistry than character and that bothers me. I understand that this film isn't about Jane and Thor primarily, that it is about Thor, Loki, their screwed-up family dynamics, and the battle against Malekith, but well, I want my stories well-rounded. And then I stop and think--wait, it's a comic book . . . and reveal my prejudices despite having just spent an evening reading Captain America: Man Out of Time. :: sigh :: This being a geek thing: very complex!