Three weeks after it’s release, Get Out has had its share of victories. From staying in the top three top-grossing films in the United States box office to getting a 99% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, it’s only fair to call this movie a huge success. Along with these triumphs comes an exciting new moment in history: Jordan Peele, the famous co-creator of the comedy show Key and Peele, has become the first black director to gross $100 million with a debut film.
This feat is especially exciting when you take in a few factors. First, this movie had a modest budget of 4.5 million, which usually makes it difficult to become popular in such a competitive movie market. Second, this is Peele’s first movie, as he has only dipped into television. Not only did he direct the movie, but he also wrote the screenplay. Finally, this is the second huge success for the Blumhouse Production company – known for making low-budget horror movies – this year. It also produced Split, a psychological thriller that made $250 million with a measly $9 million budget.
Peele revealed his motivations for making this hit in an interview with Fresh Air‘s Terry Gross as much more than just a typical horror movie. He classifies this film as a “social thriller,” which is extremely accurate with its racially charged plot during such turbulent times in this country.
Photo Credit: nbcnews.com
“It was very important to me to just get the entire audience in touch in some way with the fears inherent [in] being black in this country,” Peele said.
Award shows, such as the Oscars, have been criticized for their lack of diversity for years. This news shows that people of color continue to transcend expectations, which calls for even more recognition. Even though Get Out couldn’t be considered for many awards shows, as it is a horror film, it still is loud evidence of black excellence. In the future, I hope more diversity will show through in Hollywood, as it has been proven many times that people of color can be just as successful as anyone else.
Recently, Nike launched a plus-size workout gear line, and many “haters” have come forward voicing (aka Tweeting) their outrage. One user Tweeted, “Way to go promoting an unhealthy life style. If people have to go to the extreme to buy over-size clothes maybe it’s time for a wake up call and change their eating habits for the sake of their health.”
How is releasing a workout line that includes all the different body shapes and sizes “promoting an unhealthy lifestyle”? It’s workout gear, not Twinkies. And, for the record, anyone can be healthy at any size, and the same goes for being unhealthy.
First, people were mad at the new Nike campaign featuring Bella Hadid, arguing she wasn’t muscular enough to be a Nike model, and now people have gone to the other extreme, shaming Nike for a plus-size line. When will these ignorant people realize that people of all shapes and sizes workout?
I walk across the beach, the warm sand sifting beneath my feet. The soles of my feet burn as each sun-tinted grain touches my skin. I curl up my feet, feeling the sand between each of my toes. I take a deep breath of the salty air and look up toward the sun, closing my eyes, letting the sun’s rays wash over my skin.
(Photo Credit: atlantisbahamas.com)
I walk toward the water, the sand growing cooler and spongier under my feet. I stop, letting my feet sink into the wet sand. I relax and let my weight fall, seeing how far down I can go.
I take another step forward and dip my big toe in the water. The salt is tingly on my skin, and I ease my foot in. The water is cold, but refreshing. I take another step. I ease in to my ankles, then my knees, then my waist. I stand in the water, feeling the current course throughout my body.
I take another step. The water is up to my neck. The waves crash over me, pushing me down. I am completely submerged. I try to swim to the surface, but I can’t tell which way is up. The water is colder now, too cold, and the salt is stinging my skin. I am tossed around as the violent, churning water surrounds me. My eyes burn as I search for light.
I am caught in a vortex of water, spinning around and around, unable to break free. The waves are choppy and the water is cold – the warm, soft sand only a memory from the past. Seconds feel like minutes as I continue to struggle against the water that holds me prisoner. The once clear, gentle, welcoming water has turned dark and cold. It pulls me toward its depths, holding me tight in its grasp.
(Photo Credit: brigadewakesurfing.com)
I am starting to run out of air. Lights flicker behind my eyelids as my lungs flutter from deprivation. I can’t breathe – I am being suffocated. I toss and turn as the water pulls me down, down, deeper, deeper.
I can just make out the bottom in the distance – a faint line of dark, jagged rocks. I am afraid of striking them, and I struggle even harder. I can see a light now, but I don’t know where it’s from. It could be the surface, or the light dancing behind my eyes. The light flickers, taunting me. Still bound by the waves, I struggle to move toward it. I’m afraid to get too close. I don’t know what the light means. I don’t know if it’s coming from the surface, or if it’s something far worse – I don’t want to go the wrong way.
I am beginning to lose consciousness. My vision is going blurry, the edges are starting to go dark. The waves are enveloping me, suffocating me, before I have time to choose. I have no strength left, and no more power to fight.
I force my eyes open and struggle to remove myself from the water’s grasp. I can’t move. The waves control me, pulling me down, down, down. I hit the rocks and the light is gone. I couldn’t decide.
It is that time of the year when it starts to get warmer. The spring breeze is so nice and warm that you just want to take a nap. The flowers are blooming and the birds start to chirp. This is when I know my birthday is coming up.
Photo Credit: eskipaper.com
I have a Japanese middle name, “Sakura,” meaning cherry blossom. This name is common in Japan among people who are born in the spring. The day I was born, my grandma in Japan said that since the cherry blossoms were in bloom she would name me Sakura.
Spring is my favorite season. Although it is the season of my birthday, the reason I like spring most is because of the perfect weather. It’s hot enough to go to the pool and also if you drive a couple of hours to the mountains you can go skiing. I love to ski and I love to surf, so this season is perfect for me.
Ojai Valley School is really big on outdoor education, so we have a lot of camping trips throughout the academic year. I realized that in this month of March, I’m going on two trips that are for opposite types of activities. One is the Mammoth Mountain skiing trip and the other is a beach camping trip.
I just came back from the Mammoth Mountain skiing trip. I can’t move as much as usual because my arms, legs, and neck are sore from skiing and snowboarding. I can’t even think about surfing right at this moment, but I need to in a week, so I hope I feel better by then.
This experience – to have both of these trips happen in the same month – is only possible in California. It is crazy to think the weather can be this different in one state. I’m from Japan and I know for a fact that California is bigger in area than Japan, so this blows my mind.
On Friday, audiences will once again revisit the “tale as old as time” when the Beauty and the Beast makes its live action debut. The movie, featuring the amazing acting abilities of Emma Watson and other Hollywood veterans, has already been featured in many famous news platforms. Why? In an interview done by Attitude, a British magazine, the director, Bill Condon, revealed that LeFou, Gaston’s trusty sidekick, will be gay.
While he didn’t specifically say what will happen, this statement was met with many different reactions. To some members of the gay community, this was a breath of fresh air. Finally, Disney, a huge media influencer, has validated the gay community with its first “exclusively gay” moment. The fact that a character in such a beloved classic is out, or at least exploring his sexuality, is the representation that many wished they had when they were younger.
However, some members of the gay community were upset by this update. Ryan Houlihan, a Teen Vogue writer, states his ailments in the following, “They made the gay character a villain, relegated him to being a sidekick, gave this explicitly queer role to a straight actor, and then muddled the issue by making him sexually ‘confused’ – just to hedge their bets.” It’s also terrible that Lefou’s entire “gayness” is him pining over his unattainable straight friend. What the LGBT+ community needs is a gay character who gets his feelings reciprocated and a meaningful plot progression.
No matter the opinions, the media has gone into a frenzy about this new additive to the plot, making it a hot topic for new interviews of the stars. Emma Watson, the actress of the remade feminist Belle, made it quite clear that LeFou’s gay moment isn’t extremely pronounced, on the other hand, she called it “subtle.” Apparently, it’s a mystery whether he is in love with Gaston, as it isn’t written in the script.
Bill Condon thinks the attention is “overblown,” as Josh Gad’s character is featured in a background dance scene with another man. Condon’s response to this attitude surprises me. Saying that this movie will feature the first “exclusively gay moment” in Disney’s history is a pretty big deal, so being shocked by the media outburst seems a little odd.
Nevertheless, I’m excited to see this moment for myself, as I want to experience this revolutionary moment on the big screen this Friday. Watch a preview of LeFou’s famous “Gaston” here:
Not a single tear escapes my eyes as I sit back up and slowly gain footing. “Is that all you need for now Madame Clarisse?” I ask, the pain becoming a cold and unwavering part of my voice.
Madame Clarisse’s lips curl into a snarl, her eyes glowing with disgust at the fact that I have the strength left in me to stand up. At this point, Magnum Damarion’s resolve against killing the rabbit has completely fled, he has given into society’s cruelness.
Photo Credit: New Mark Hotels
I suppose it is easier that way, is it not Magnum? I think bitterly. I stand there, my heart beating faster as he gets closer. I know that if I move to defend myself nothing good will come of it, so I stand there and take it as he slowly moves toward me. I refuse to let myself shake, the only evidence of my pain and panic is my unsteady breathing.
Once he is within breathing distance, he stops and Madame Clarisse makes a repulsed noise in the back of her throat at the thought of someone of his status being this close to a servi. He looks back at her with ice in his eyes. One look from the mighty lion and the hyena is silenced, humiliated, unable to finish off one pitiful rabbit.
“Tell me, are you so daftly-idiotic as to mess up one small order?” He asks plaintively, as if this is not a kill shot.
Defiance rears its ugly head inside me. My mouth moves to say no and that I meant every gram of sugar I put in there, but my mind slams my lips shut and reworks them, “Yes, I am.”
He nods as if feigning understanding. His feet make little noise as he steps back, dragging his feet over the carpet, and as swift as a bullet he drives his steel-toed boot into my side exactly where Madame Clarisse’s heel push through my skin. I do not hear the impact but I sure as hell feel it. A cry escapes my lips as my head hits the side table, splitting the skin near my eyebrow. I hold my breath and let myself sag. I have failed myself more than once tonight, and I do not have the strength to face anymore failure.
I pull myself up and support myself on the side table slouched over, “Is there anything else you will be needing, Magnum, Madame?”
Clarisse takes a deep breathe, the hyena is too proud to let the lion have the final blow. Her fist zeros in on my nose, and with blinding pain her fist connects to the bridge of my nose, sending me careening out of control and into the side-table I was previously in alliance with.
I open my eyes a few seconds after the waves of nauseating pain pass. I can feel the blood on my mouth and dripping down my chin, creating rivers of deep red on my blouse. I look down at myself. This is what I would be in for, if I escape, if I make it to the next future, the next fate – one hell of a beating.
I crack my neck and swing my gaze between the Magnum and my Madame, “Is there anything else you will be needing? Madame, Magnum?”
I can see the vein in Madame Clarisse’s forehead pop out like a river in a smooth desert. I glance over at Magnum Damarion, he is looking mildly horrified at what he has helped do. His eyes linger on the blood stains dripping from my eyebrow and nose. Too late asshole. His eyes then stray to blossom of blood that is forming on my side as well.
Photo Credit: Free Images
This will go well tomorrow: Female Runaway Servi Found: Beaten Badly, To Be Executed. What a nice headline, yeah? But somehow I still cannot bring myself to stay here in this damned house.
“No I’m no longer in need your services.” I am surprised Madame Clarisse managed to grind even that out.
I bow my head a sign of respect, but in truth I can barely keep myself upright. I take a shallow breath as I prepare to attempt to walk. I slowly tell my legs to move, and as if by some sort of disconnect they start moving moments after I tell them to. I can feel the heel of my shoes catch in the threading of the carpet, and the other foot continues to shuffle forward, missing its ever-important counterpart. I can feel my mind slowly winding down to a complete standstill, like eyes that are slowly closing for longer than the last time. I hear, more than feel myself falling. The air creates a tunnel and everything sounds like static.
All of a sudden the sound stops. I let my knees buckle and I hear a thud as another pair of knees hit the ground with mine. The Magnum.
My knees sting. And my face feels as if it is about to burst.
“Get up you worthless, idiotic oaf.” Now Clarisse is shouting, but it only registers as a faint ringing.
I slowly get to my feet. Biting back a snide retort, I grit my teeth again, ignoring the pain that shoots through my jaw. Survive this and you will not suffer the noose unless you are found out to be a runaway. Snap now and you will be sent to the noose with no chance to live. I play this on repeat in my head knowing in my heart that I cannot crack.
“Does it taste like a sugar-free cupcake?” She shouts, causing my head to ring even more.
Well seeing as it hit my face I did not really get to taste it, now did I?
“Does it?” Mangum Damarion’s deep cold voice rings in for the first time.
Photo Credit: Pinterest
I can feel him slowly creeping closer like a dangerous and powerful dark lion. His money-bred arrogance and inhuman power is painted across his face in wide bloody slashes. He does not dare getting close enough to touch me, for even a jealous hyena can take down an ignoble lion.
He throws his cupcake and it hits me just below the collarbone with enough force to push me back a bit. The pastel frosting flies up hitting my neck and chin, but also outward hitting him, and an already frosting-splattered Magnus Madame Clarisse. I clench my teeth harder, knowing it will be hell for whatever servi is tasked with getting the purple color out of the expensive fabric, and even worse to get it out of the priceless rugs and tapestries in the private dining room. I send a silent apology like a prayer to that servi.
Magnus Madame Clarisse’s eyes show with livid blood-lust. “Is. That. Sugar. Free?” She asks quietly, a stark change to the headache inducing shriek from a few moments ago.
She raises her hand to strike me again and I cannot help but cower, my body telling me my head cannot take more abuse.
“No – they are not.” I whisper, my throat rasping. I clumsily try to push my dark hair out of my eyes.
“They are not.” I repeat, knowing that I have cracked and with that realization I stop trying to stay standing, I let myself fall to my knees. I take a rattling breath, knowing that I failed myself.
“You. Brainless. Disgusting. Impudent. Daft. Worthless. Servi.” Her voice gains momentum and crescendos, “Can. You. Not. Follow. Simple. Orders?”
I can feel it. The lion is staring from his throne and his eyes. It feels like I am in the roman coliseum, thumbs are pointing down, but there is a small glimmer of possible guilt and shame in what he is doing in his eyes. But before that glimmer of guilt can take over, his eyes are back to guiling the hyena: impress me, hyena, and you will be a lion; and then there is the hyena, all too ready to comply. The white rabbit has been stained red and the hyena is ready to rip its heart out to give, still beating faintly, to the lion.
Photo Credit: Oriental Rug Bazaar
I feel the pointy stiletto drive itself into my side before my brain registers that she even moved to kick me. Her stiletto breaks through my uniform and my skin, sending searing pain between my ribs. I topple from my kneeling position to curl up in a fetal position looking at the fine threads, red threads, of the ungodly expensive Persian rugs.
“Is there anything else I can get you Madame Clarisse, Magnum Damarion?” I curtsey as she stares critically at the cupcakes.
She frowns down at the cupcakes and asks in an eerily silent voice, “Are they the sugar-free, I asked for –”
Panic and terror settle in my gut, I had not remembered that, I had been distracted all day wondering if I should escape or not.
“– well they don’t seem like it. Are they?” She demands after a bite.
I can feel myself ripping in half, if I do not say anything who will get hurt? If I say yes who will get hurt? I lock my jaw and refuse to even breathe.
Photo Credit: Flikr
“Well are they?” She asks in a voice that promises blood.
My blood begins to heat as I go numb with panic. I wince. Confirmation enough.
This is not about the cupcakes. This is a show of power from the hyena to impress the lion, and I am the rabbit about to get its throat ripped out.
She hands a cupcake to the Magnum, giving the lion a taste of the prize that could come of this. A fleeting look of conflict crosses his face but just as soon as it is gone he takes a bite and the haze of bloodlust crosses his face.
“No, they don’t taste sugar-free now do they.” He chuckles at me, and frost shoots through my veins. The noble lion has joined the ignoble hyena to tear apart the rabbit.
He asks, his honey-like voice becoming the steel of a Magnum blade, “Are they the sugar-free she ordered?”
He asks, the shadows on his face becoming darker and sharper. The laughing purple in his eyes turns to a dark hardened grey. I stare at the candles on the table knowing that the two of them will not be nice enough to go straight for the throat. They will take their time, they will start with small bites and continue until I bleed dry.
I know that if I were to open my mouth to confess now it would only make it worse.
“Do you want to try one? Maybe you could really tell us if the baker of these followed my instructions.” Magnus Madame Clarisse says with venom boiling through her words.
I struggle for breath. She knows it was me, and now she is going to humiliate me. I suppose the hyena and rabbit scenario is not uncommon, seeing the number of servi suicides there are.
She picks up a cupcake and saunters toward me, but instead of handing me the cupcake she daintily unwraps it. “Open up,” she says in a cloyingly syrupy voice. “Come on, it’s not like it’s a command.”
Photo Credit: Pinterest
I clench my jaw trying to keep my pride, but I know that I will be put to death if I do not obey. I rigidly unhinge my jaw.
Her perfectly sculpted pink lips pout in a demeaning manner, “Oh come on, don’t be so stiff.”
The words drip from her mouth like the blood of some other poor rabbit she already killed. The lion remains stoic in the corner, his eyes glazed over, unfeeling. The arrogant-rich-boy is back.
“Well loosen up!” She shrieks.
Magnus Madame Clarisse shoves the cupcake into my already bruised cheek with the force of a punch. I watch as purple and white frosting mars my vision and sticks to my eyelashes. I am struck by how much the frosting looks like thick fat snowflakes.
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