i hope they show this film in acting school or whatever (you’re not allowed to graduate with a degree in tension until you can blink like jake gyllenhaal).

do not cite the deep magic (self-important ‘grittiness’ of art) to me, witch (you pretentious asshole). i was there when it was written (on tumblr when i was thirteen).

the “i’ll find you in any lifetime” trope, but make it a lynchian masterpiece starring two of the most unsettling actors of our time. fucking delicious!

oh yeah… this one made my tummy fucking hurt.

if i had a dollar for every time ang lee made me cry utilizing the gut-punching power of yearning, i’d have two dollars. it’s not a lot, but like, what the fuck is your problem, man?

had to discover new ways to self-soothe after watching brendan fraser fight terribly cgi-ed dwayne johnson.

you know how old men always watch late night spaghetti westerns, and therefore, coerce their grandchildren into enduring the same fate? yeah, okay, this is that for me. like, “here’s some popcorn kiddos, mamaw’s going to force ya’ll to watch men continuously suffer at the hands of felonious wlw.”

deliriously grand visuals, just wish i had, like, a few more seconds to appreciate anything before we moved on to another song & dance.

“call me jupe.” uh yeah, that was the final straw. the entire writers’ room needs fired. privileges REVOKED.

exchanging silent flirtation amid the crack of gunfire is stupidly romantic btw… obsessed w/ them.

“your touch is worth a hundred thousand deaths” is seared into my fucking temporal lobe, omg???

listen, rick o’connell forever has me squealing and kicking my feet… but i’d sacrifice my life for evelyn carnahan (please don’t read from that cursed egyptian book, queen, you’re so sexy aha).