Remember in 1993 when Jurassic Park was like…the end all, be all of special effects?
not gonna lie that still looks intimately real
I’m still somewhat convinced that someone sold their soul to create the special effects in Jurassic Park because that shit is over 20 years old and it still really, really holds up, better than the stuff in a lot of current movies, even.
Fucking witchcraft, man.
fucking look at this shit though
Literally see this post flying around with a few different responses added to the bottom each time so I’ll say it for this one myself:
THEY ACTUALLY BUILT A GIANT MASSIVELY DETAILED FUCKING ANIMATRONIC T-REX FOR ALL OF THIS THAT’S WHY THE EFFECTS ARE SO GOOD. CAUSE IT AIN’T CGI. AND IT AIN’T GUY IN A COSTUME. IT’S A BIG FUCKING ROBOT DINOSAUR. AND EVERY PART IS DESIGNED TO MOVE. IT COST LIKE HALF THE BUDGET OF THE FILM.
amazing
And they had the film it in small increments, especially in the outdoor scenes, because the rain fall kept soaking into the ‘skin’ of the rex and would slow down and mess up its movements. So they would stop filming and have a crew out there drying off this massive, fake dinosaur, and then they’d start filming again until it was too wet. Repeat until the end of the scene.
They used animatronics and detailed costumes for most if not all of the dinosaurs in the first movie.
The triceratops for instance, was also animatronic.
One of my favorite anecdotes I’ve read on tumblr is how the t-rex robot from Jurassic park would malfunction while it was drying out. How did it malfunction, you might wonder?
Motherfucker randomly started moving.
So apparently if you were on the jp set you would sometimes hear people screaming bloody murder even though they were all well aware that it was a giant animatronic puppet and wouldn’t actually, you know, eat them.
I want someone to write a book where Mermaids are the women thrown off ships when the sailors got afraid because having a woman on the boat is bad luck. And as they sink to the bottom, legs tied together, they change slowly until they can breathe, until they can use their tied up legs to swim. And they drown sailors in revenge, luring them in by singing in their husky voices still stinging from the salt water they breathed.
someone please write this
“Please, don’t do this!” her voice comes out hoarse, cracked. The men leer at her, their gazes cold.
“Storm is comin’ now” the captain says. He is the worst, because in his eyes there is regret. Compassion. Pity. He doesn’t want to do it. Not like the others do. But that won’t stop him.
“Told your father a ship is no place for a girl,” he says. “Told ‘im to find another vessel, told ‘im to just keep you home, if e’ had ta. But did he listen? If you want someone to blame, miss, blame him. Tha ocean is cold, cold and cruel. And she ain’t gonna let us through this without payment, without a cost.”
The wind blows his gray hair back from his face, and he nods at one of the crewman - the one who’s eyes always linger on her for too long - and he steps forward and jabs Alice in the side with a paddle from one of the rowboats. She cries out, even though she doesn’t want to, even though she wants to scream instead, scream and curse the way a lady of her standing is never meant to do. She wants to curse them all to a watery grave and watch as they suffer.
She tries to move, tries to run past them, to break the rope binding her legs at the ankles through sheer power of will. She fails.
The crewman jabs at her again, and she spits at him. The glob of saliva hits him on the face, spittle clinging to his sun-tanned skin. His crewmates laugh.
Alice realizes her mistake too late.
His eyes darken, he steps forward - and he strikes her across the face with the paddle so hard she’s twisted around, so hard she sees black and careens of the gangplank and plummets to the dark, thrashing water below.
The captain was right: the sea is cold. Colder than any hell she’s ever imagined. Colder than the time she fell face first into a deep puddle on the street in the dead of winter. She feels the ice flood her mouth, fill her lungs, turn every vein and bone bitter blue with frost. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.
The water tosses her against the hull of the ship and she feels her skull crack against the worn wood. The world fades, and she begins to die…
She remembers the sea, through the darkness. Remembers tossing her friend Lydia into the waves at the beach, remembers their laughter as Lydia pulled her in as well. She remembers dunking her head under, feeling the rush of cold fill her up as she became lighter than she’d ever been, became part of the water.
‘The sea is cold,’ she remembers the captain saying. Yes, she thinks, but I am colder.
And the ocean? she realizes. The ocean is her sister.
She feels it filling her up, feels it caressing her body, enveloping her. Not killing her, but cradling her. A sister holding up her own blood, a mother, soothing her wailing child, kissing the hurt away. A goddess, hearing the prayers of her devoted believer, and answering them.
I have salt and seawater in my soul, Captain. I will show you how cold these waters can be.
She feels the edges of her body fading, feels herself stop being a me and become a we, become an us, become every drop of water and every clump of foam and every weed and every wave. Feels herself changing.
Her dress is pulled away by the waves, button by button, seam by seam. The sea strips her, soothes her skin. She feels herself swaying, feels her injuries healing. Feels herself become something more than a scared girl or a single spot of death in a pool of life, as her body flares like a fire, as her legs brush together, as they begin to fuse…
She feels herself heal, and she feels herself change.
When it is over, she is bare, but she feels no shame. Her tail twists in the water beneath her, swaying, more natural than her legs ever felt. Stronger, too. She runs her hand over the dark blue scales, the same shade as the surface in a storm. She feels herself smile.
Siren, she thinks, mermaid. Sister of the sea.
The captain was right; a ship is no place for a woman. This is the place for a woman.
And when she drags him screaming down into it, he will realize: the ocean may be cruel…but her sisters are worse.
Alice smiles again, and begins to swim after the ship fading into the distance.
if there is one piece of relationship advice i could give to women dating men, it’s this:
you’re not his mother. you don’t have to take his tantrums and walk him through basic shit. i know women are taught that they have to be nurturing and all that but it’s absolutely not your responsibility to “teach him to be a better person”.
marvel studios is going through a moment where they could literally pick any character and make a successful movie if they wanted to. for fucks sake they made one about a team that not even most marvel comics fans really cared about, when no one was asking for a movie about them, a team that features a talking tree and a talking raccoon, and it had the fucking biggest box office of the year so far. stop giving me those weak ass excuses for the lack of female led movies
info on the agents of shield vs agent carter dubsmash war from hayley atwell’s london comic con talk yesterday
hayley talked about how competitive she and james d'arcy got and how they were devastated when the shield cast did the video with clark gregg dressed as peggy. and then she said how james was basically like “well, there’s only one option. we have to fly to atlanta, we have to get chris evans involved”. so chris evans was texted, his response: “you guys are crazy. i love it, let’s do it”. so they just decided to fly to atlanta to enlist chris evans’ help.
hayley atwell and james d'arcy literally booked a last minute 5 hour trip to atlanta, just to film a 7 second video with chris evans, and then fly back again
And by “aesthetic” I mean “what you need to wear to survive in a brutal post-apocalyptic wasteland”.
1. MATERIAL
Contemporary retailers are full of lightweight knits and wafting synthetics. Be assured that these materials would not still be around 45 years after the end of civilization–they would fall apart under heavy wear.
The Vuvalini favor thicker, durable fabric, such as military-weight canvas for their topmost, protective layers. In some cases their sleeves appear to be sweatshirt-style jersey.
If you’re cosplaying, it will take a lot of wear and/or distressing to get new fabric to drape this way. One alternative is linen, which is suitably durable, but much less densely woven than most of the fabric onscreen. It will hang nicely right off the rack, and keep you cool. Plus it’s regaining enough popularity in more interesting cuts than the traditional tropical suit that you might even be able to find something Vuvalini-ready in a discount store.
Jeans will work for Vuvalini pants, provided they are adequately distressed. Unnamed Vuvalini #4 wears cargo pants.
Given that there have probably been no large animals in the Wasteland for some decades, they use very little leather. The pieces we do see are ragged edge cuts, like on the Valkyrie.
One of the cleaner exceptions is Unnamed Vuvalini #4′s cowl:
The top portion resembles an aviator cap, but it bells out and might even be attached to the part that covers her shoulders.
There’s also Keeper’s suede vest:
By the same token there is very little wool, which is a shame because it regulates body temperature and keeps you quite cool once you sweat through it. It’s also easy to repair… provided you have more wool. I’ve only spotted it on Unnamed Vuvalini #2:
And the vest they gave Cheedo.
2. LAYERS
Layers, layers, layers!
The least clothed we ever see one of the Vuvalini is Valkyrie at the tower; otherwise they’re positively bundled. They are all about coverage and protection, which adds up to probably at least three layers on each of them. A few of them do wear clearly detachable sleeves.
3. ZIPPERS = NO. BUCKLES = YES!
Sand and zippers don’t mix. I haven’t spotted a single visible zipper on the Vuvalini. Instead, there are loads of buckles.
So if nothing else, wear multiple belts over your top layer. Which brings us to…
4. ACCESSORIES
Nearly everything the Vuvalini wear is in drab earthtones, but they squeeze in swatches of bright color and patterns in their accessories, like the woven pieces at UV4′s hips, Maadi’s headband, and UV3′s and Keeper’s scarves. And of course, the bikes–so much brocade! If you have a scrap of cloth that makes it look like your first priority after the fall of civilization was looting an antique store, find a way to attach it to you. Then go roll in the dirt.
Almost nothing the Vuvalini wear seems to be purely decorative; even UV4′s necklace looks like it might double as a flask. And of course any pieces would be handmade of readily available materials, or possibly passed down from one generation to the next. When in doubt, if your item would be significant to your character, wear it.
Get ye some goggles! I daresay no Mad Max cosplay is complete without a pair. They’re not limited to the Vuvalini either:
If you can’t find any you like for cheap, look for spice tins with glass lids (check World Market if you have one near you). Punch a hole in the side of each lid, wire them together, and wrap the whole shebang in leather.
Everyone also has some form of wrist guard or wrapping. The Valkyrie has one full glove, probably for the purpose of doing zany shit like this:
Their boots are all calf-high, or else augmented with spats.
5. MODIFY EVERYTHING
Seriously, everything. These ladies have been living in the desert for years, and they have modified and repaired their clothes numerous times. Check out the side panel on UV4′s vest:
The only visibly whole items they have were clearly packed away for a long time before they gave them to the Sisters:
There are lots of ways to modify store-bought items–look up creative mending to get ideas.
And one more resource: this link has simple, easy-to-modify patterns for a leather cowl and spats!
