He hesitated. There was no doubt about it. Colonel Acoca was getting dangerously out of control. There had been angry protests about the brutal attack on the convent. The prime minister chose his words carefully. And those four nuns—if they talk—" "Don't worry. They can't get far. You'll work with Colonel Sostelo. The prime minister swallowed.
The nuns, used to moving in silence, made little noise. The only sounds were the rustle of their robes, the clicking of their rosaries, an occasional snapping twig, and their gasps for breath as they climbed higher and higher. They reached a plateau of the Guadarrama mountains and walked along a rutted road bordered by stone walls.
They passed fields with sheep and goats. By sunrise they had covered several miles and found themselves in a wooded area outside the small village of Villacastin. I'll leave them here, Lucia decided.
Their God can take care of them now. He sure took great care of me, she thought bitterly. Switzerland is farther away than ever.
I have no money and no passport, and I'm dressed like an undertaker. By now those men know we've escaped. They'll keep looking until they find us. The sooner I get away by myself, the better. But at that instant, something happened that made her change her plans. Sister Teresa was moving through the trees when she stumbled and the package she had been so carefully guarding fell to the ground.
It spilled out of its canvas wrapping and Lucia found herself staring at a large, exquisitely carved gold cross glowing in the rays of the rising sun. That's real gold, Lucia thought. Someone up there is looking after me. That cross is manna. Sheer manna. It's my ticket to Switzerland.
Lucia watched as Sister Teresa picked up the cross and carefully put it back in its wrapping. She smiled to herself. It was going to be easy to take it. These nuns would do anything she told them. News of the attack on the convent had spread quickly, and Father Berrendo was elected to confront Colonel Acoca.
The priest was in his seventies, with an outward frailty that belied his inner strength. He was a warm and understanding shepherd to his parishioners. But at the moment he was filled with a cold fury. Colonel Acoca kept him waiting for an hour, then allowed the priest to be shown into his office. Father Berrendo said without preamble, "You and your men attacked a convent without provocation. It was an act of madness. We're holding them for questioning. Colonel Acoca said smoothly, "No. He and his men escaped before we got there.
But we'll find them, and justice will be done. Their garb was ill equipped for the rugged terrain. Their sandals were too thin to protect their feet against the stony ground, and their habits caught on everything. Sister Teresa found she could not even say her rosary. She needed both hands to keep the branches from snapping in her face. In the light of day, freedom seemed even more terrifying than before, God had cast the sisters out of Eden into a strange, frightening world, and His guidance which they had leaned on for so long was gone.
They found themselves in an uncharted country with no map and no compass. The walls that had protected them from harm for so long had vanished and they felt naked and exposed. Danger was everywhere, and they no longer had a place of refuge. They were aliens. The unaccustomed sights and sounds of the country were dazzling. There were insects and bird songs and hot, blue skies assaulting their senses.
And there was something else that was disturbing. When they had first fled the convent, Teresa, Graciela, and Megan had carefully avoided looking at one another, instinctively keeping to the rules. But now, each found herself avidly studying the faces of the others. Also, after all the years of silence, they found it difficult to speak, and when they did speak, their words were halting, as though they were learning a strange new skill.
Their voices sounded strange in their ears. Only Lucia seemed uninhibited and sure of herself, and the others automatically turned to her for leadership. As they lay in the woods resting outside the village, Lucia thought: They're like newborn birds fallen out of their nests. They won't last five minutes on their own. Well, too bad for them. I'll be on my way to Switzerland with the cross. Lucia walked to the edge of the clearing they were in and peered through the trees toward the little village below.
A few people were walking along the street, but there was no sign of the men who had raided the convent. Now, Lucia thought. Here's my chance. She turned to the others. You wait here. For thirty years she had obeyed only the orders of the Reverend Mother Betina, and now suddenly this sister had taken charge. But what is happening is God's will, Sister Teresa thought. He has appointed her to help us, so she speaks with His voice.
When we get down there, we'll ask for directions. There was none. This is going to be easy, Lucia thought. They reached the outskirts of the little town. Ahead of them was the main street. To the left was a small, deserted street. Good, Lucia thought. There would be no one to witness what was about to happen. Lucia turned into the side street. There's less chance of being seen.
The question now was how to get the cross away from her. I could grab it and run, Lucia thought, but she'd probably scream and attract a lot of attention. No, I'll have to make sure she stays quiet.
A small limb of a tree had fallen to the ground in front of her, and Lucia paused, then stooped to pick it up. It was heavy. She waited for Sister Teresa to catch up to her. A man was standing there, dressed in the long brown robe and cowl of a friar. He was tall and thin, with an aquiline face and the saintliest expression Lucia had ever seen. His eyes seemed to glow with a warm inner light, and his voice was soft and gentle.
Her first plan had been interrupted. But now, suddenly, she had a better one. This man was going to be her escape. He would know the easiest way for her to get out of Spain. All the nuns were taken. Four of us managed to escape. We were attacked the night before last. Do you know how that can be done? God has brought us together. Take me to the others. He's come to help us. Graciela dared not look directly at him; Megan studied him with quick, interested glances; and Sister Teresa regarded him as a messenger sent by God who would lead them to the convent at Mendavia.
Friar Carrillo said, "The men who attacked the convent will undoubtedly keep searching for you. But they will be looking for four nuns. The first thing you must do is change your clothing. Do not worry, my child. He will provide. Let us go back into town. The shops were closed, but the restaurants and bars were open and from them they could hear strange music issuing, hard, dissonant, and raucous-sounding.
Friar Carrillo saw the look on Sister Teresa's face. The nuns stared back, wide-eyed, at the strange clothing the pair wore.
One wore a skirt so short it barely covered her thighs, and the other wore a longer skirt that was split up to the sides of her thighs. Both wore tight knitted bodices with no sleeves. They might as well be naked, Sister Teresa thought, horrified. In the doorway stood a man who wore a turtleneck sweater, a strange-looking jacket without a collar, and a jeweled pendant.
Unfamiliar odors greeted the nuns as they passed a bodega. Nicotine and whiskey. Megan was staring at something across the street. She stopped. Friar Carrillo said, "What is it? What's the matter? Megan was watching a woman carrying a baby. How many years had it been since she had seen a baby, or even a small child?
Not since the orphanage, fourteen years ago. The sudden shock made Megan realize how far her life had been removed from the outside world. Sister Teresa was staring at the baby too, but she was thinking of something else. It's Monique's baby. The baby across the street was screaming. It's screaming because I deserted it. But no, that's impossible.
That was thirty years ago. Sister Teresa turned away, the baby's cries ringing in her ears. They moved on. They passed a motion-picture theater. The marquee read Three Lovers, and the photographs displayed showed skimpily clad women embracing a bare-chested man.
Friar Carrillo frowned. It's disgraceful what the cinema is permitted to show these days. That movie is pure pornography. The most personal and private acts are there for everyone to see. They turn God's children into animals. When they came to a women's dress shop, Friar Carrillo said, "Stop. They looked at one another blankly. Where was he going, and what if he did not return?
A few minutes later, they heard the sound of the front door of the shop opening, and Friar Carrillo stood in the doorway, beaming. He motioned them inside. But there was an impish edge to his voice that made Megan smile. The sisters looked around the shop in awe. The store was a multicolored cornucopia of dresses and sweaters, bras and stockings, high-heeled shoes and boleros.
Objects they had not seen in years. And the styles seemed so strange. There were purses and scarves and compacts and blouses.
It was all too much to absorb. The women stood there, gaping. Help yourselves. Choose whatever fits you. She walked over to a rack of dresses and began to sort through them. She found a beige skirt and a tan silk blouse to go with it. It's not Balenciaga, but it will do for now.
She picked out panties and a bra and a pair of soft boots, then stepped behind a clothes rack, stripped, and in a matter of minutes was dressed and ready to go.
The others were slowly selecting their outfits. Graciela chose a white cotton dress that set off her black hair and dark complexion, and a pair of sandals. Megan chose a patterned blue cotton dress that fell below the knees and low-heeled shoes. Sister Teresa had the most difficult time choosing something to wear. The array of choices was too dazzling. There were silks and flannels and tweeds and leather. There were cottons and twills and corduroys, and there were plaids and checks and stripes of every color.
And they all seemed—skimpy was the word that came to Sister Teresa's mind. For the past thirty years she had been decently covered by the heavy robes of her calling. And now she was being asked to shed them and put on these indecent creations. She finally selected the longest skirt she could find, and a long-sleeved, high-collared cotton blouse. Friar Carrillo urged, "Hurry, Sisters. Get undressed and change. He smiled.
The sisters began to undress, painfully self-conscious in front of one another. In the office, Friar Carrillo had pulled a chair up to the transom and was looking out through it, watching the sisters strip. He was thinking: Which one am I going to screw first! Miguel Carrillo had begun his career as a thief when he was only ten years old. He was born with curly blond hair and an angelic face, which had proved to be of inestimable value in his chosen profession.
He started at the bottom, snatching purses and shoplifting, and as he got older, his career expanded and he began to roll drunks and prey on wealthy women. Because of his enormous appeal, he was very successful. He devised several original swindles, each more ingenious than the last.
Unfortunately, his latest swindle had proved to be his undoing. Posing as a friar from a distant monastery, Carrillo traveled from church to church begging sanctuary for the night. It was always granted, and in the morning when the priest came to open the church doors, all the valuable artifacts would be missing, along with the good friar. Unfortunately, fate had double-crossed him. The priest was a beefy, heavyset man, and he had wrestled Carrillo to the ground and announced that he was going to turn him over to the police.
A heavy silver chalice had fallen to the floor, and Carrillo had picked it up and hit the priest with it. Either the chalice was too heavy or the priest's skull was too thin, but in any case the priest lay dead on the floor. Miguel Carrillo had fled, panicky, anxious to put himself as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. It was fate that Carrillo had chanced upon the four escaped nuns. Now, eager with anticipation, he studied their naked bodies and thought: There's another interesting possibility.
Since Colonel Acoca and his men are looking for the sisters, there is probably a nice, fat reward on their heads. I'll lay them first, and then turn them over to Acoca.
The women, except for Lucia, who was already dressed, were totally naked. Carrillo watched as they awkwardly put on the new underclothes. Then they finished dressing, clumsily buttoning unaccustomed buttons and fastening zippers, hurrying to get away before they were caught. Time to get to work, Carrillo thought happily. He got down from the chair and walked out into the store.
He approached the women, studied them approvingly, and said, "Excellent. No one in the world would ever take you for nuns. I might suggest scarves for your heads.
Miguel Carrillo had made his decision. Graciela was going to be the first. She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. And that body! How could she have wasted it on God? I'll show her what to do with it. He said to Lucia, Teresa, and Megan, "You must all be hungry. I want you to go to the cafe we passed and wait for us there. I'll go to the church and borrow some money from the priest so we can eat.
Sister, to explain to the priest what happened at the convent. I would suggest you use the back door. When he heard the door close behind them, he turned to Graciela.
She's fantastic, he thought. Maybe I'll keep her with me, break her in to some cons. She could be a big help. Graciela was watching him. That dress is all wrong for you. Take it off. We have very little time. She was in her panties and brassiere when Carrillo suddenly appeared. Graciela stared at him. Please—I—" Carrillo moved closer to her. Stop it! You're going to love this. He forced her to the floor and lifted his robe. It was as though a curtain in Graciela's mind suddenly descended.
It was the Moor trying to thrust himself inside her, tearing into the depths of her, and her mother's shrill voice was screaming. And Graciela thought, terrified, No, not again. No, please-not again… She was struggling fiercely now, fighting Carrillo off, trying to get up. He slammed his fist into her face, and Graciela fell back, stunned and dizzy.
She found herself spinning back in time. Her earliest memories were of a procession of naked strangers climbing in and out of her mother's bed. Her mother explained, "They are your uncles. You must show them respect. They stayed for a night, a week, a month, and then vanished. Even as a child, Graciela was stunning to look at, with high cheekbones, an olive complexion, shiny black hair, and thick, long eyelashes. Her young body was nubile with promise. Although she was no longer beautiful, she was accessible, and she had the reputation of being a passionate bed partner.
Making love was her one talent, and she employed it to try to please men into bondage, hoping to keep them by buying their love with her body. She made a meager living as a seamstress because she was an indifferent one, and was hired only by the women of the village who could not afford better. Graciela's father was a handsome young mechanic who had proposed to the beautiful young Dolores, and she had eagerly let him seduce her.
But when she broke the news that she was pregnant, he disappeared, leaving Dolores with the curse of his seed. Dolores had a vicious temper, and she took out her vengeance on the child.
Any time Graciela did something to displease her, her mother would hit her and scream, "You're as stupid as your father! Graciela would wake up every morning and pray: Please, God, don't let Mama beat me today. With the beginning of the World War II, this relocation was interrupted.
In the end, the viewer is not sure whether these children were lucky, or whether it might be better for them stay with their families and face the Holocaust together, due to their serious childhood trauma. Inclusive some of them did not speak the original language anymore, and needed an adaptation period to meet their parents again in the end of the war.
As mentioned by another user, "this film is at once a testament to man's inhumanity". Unfortunately, the saddest thing to say is that more than fifty years later, we see Bosnian, Africans, Palestines, Iraquians etc.
I can never forget the image of that Iraquian orphan without both arms on TV. My vote is seven. About an hour into my viewing of this documentary about Jewish children transported out of Germany for their own safety on the brink of WW II, my year-old came up and, seeing how engrossed I was, slipped me a note that said: "Can you change to Disney at ?
This movie is scaring me. Certainly, up to that point, it was going in that direction. But what I was able to convey later to her a former orphan herself is that underneath the darkness there is light, if you look for it.
This film was richly layered, as others on this site have already noted, with grief, despair, horror, regret and anguish, true. But countering it is the knowledge that there are good people in the world that will reach out in generosity to the victimized--just as British couples agreed, over a two year period and longer in the late s, to provide homes to 10, endangered Jewish children. Another important positive is evident in every testimony in the film--from former transportees, a foster parent, host families, transport organizers.
And that is the fierce, all-encompassing devotion between the Jewish family members affected by a perfect storm of historical events: the rise of a convincing megalomaniac who turned an entire country to antisemitism; increasing hostility in the immediate environment; the inability to earn a living or go to school; the wrenching separation of sending beloved children away; and finally the ultimate crisis of the adults "being transported" to the death camps.
Through it all the devotion remains, unshaken. A father who adores his young daughter, hobbling with a cane after the train that is taking her away, takes her hands through the window and manages to pull her out--his overriding love trumping the knowledge that she would be safer away from her family.
A year-old on her own initiative goes door to door in London begging wealthy residents to hire her parents so that they can get work visas in order to escape Germany. An older transportee relates with quiet dignity and awe how her father died in a camp: beaten to death for protesting the guard's treatment of older inmates.
Photos and restrained musical accompaniment throughout the movie lend both strength and pathos to each story. One doesn't have to be Jewish--and I am not--to appreciate how family ties and identity can remain intact through sheer will, despite horrific experiences as shown through this film.
It's also expertly crafted by director Harris so that interviewees become familiar and sympathetic protagonists and we raptly follow their stories, all different, in stages. Astutely, he makes sure we see that they are fully human--not angels or mere victims. One woman admits openly that she was taken from foster home to foster home because behaviorally, she was a handful as one might expect of a child who finds herself living with complete strangers, speaking a foreign language.
Another lied to her foster parents to arrange for her sister to be taken in, and cheerfully threw the lie back in their faces when the sister arrived, not at all what they expected.
Finally, I was moved, as I always am, to see how the documentary format helps people deal with their demons by speaking about them. The man whose witness ends the film, whose experiences have been as anguished as anyone's, seems to say it all in discussing why he was saved and others were not, impassioned but optimistic.
If you haven't seen "Into the Arms" but are looking for a new prism from which to view the Nazi era and what people in all circumstances can extract from suffering, I highly recommend this film. This effort will not be for everyone. But if you have a desire in life to see right prevail, to see what is good, and if you live a life of love, then you will cherish this movie.
I got this movie from the local library on a lark, and immediately following the end, I went on line and ordered it. It is very well done. The producers and directors here did a perfect job. If you are looking for sex and violence, this is not for you.
But if you want to learn and be truly enriched in your life, then this offering is just the ticket. I am not Jewish but after watching this I feel as if I had been born Jewish. This movie has filled a space in my heart I was not aware of. I Cr 13;8a. As a documentary this is the cookie-cutter outline of how a historical documentary should be made.
The film evenly moves through the history of World War II and the kinder transport. The child refugees tell their stories as period footage takes the audience through their experiences.
The cinematography, editing and storytelling are so well done is one of those documentary films that has to be seen to be appreciated. If you are an aspiring documentary filmmaker this is one of the films you should watch and analyze, even if the storyline is not your kind of topic.
I looked up the filmmakers and found that one of them is an instructor at UCLA, that was fascinating because a lot of times the instructor can NOT make a good film but this one shows he definitely has skills!
Watching "Into the Arms of Strangers" was truly a profound experience for me. I am still struggling to put into words all the feelings it evoked in me.
This is the harrowing, compelling true story of Jewish children living in Hitler's Germany, Austria, and Czechoslovakia who were sent to live in England without their parents. We see most of the movie from the perspective of the humans. When we see the replicants, they are committing cruel, insane, murderous acts against innocent people. And he seems very much an underdog the entire time, forced to obey his handlers, sent off to fight deadly, advanced clone people who can easily crush him.
But what gradually emerges, going along, is that the replicants aren't the monsters. They're fleeing pursuit, trying to put a stop to their evil creators, and gain some hope of future out of all of this. The replicants have a love of life and freedom, but are doomed to imprisonment and premature death.
They may have been manufactured, but they are incorporated with animal imagery, to give them a more natural, organic, soulful nature than the people they encounter. Meanwhile, Deckard? Go back and look at that top picture again. He uses that to examine you, and to decide whether he is going to kill you. He looks pallid and corpse-like in scenes, particularly the one where he onscreen rapes a replicant woman. For most of the movie, he sees replicants as lesser beings, just like everyone else does in his world.
Eventually, when it is down to just him and Roy, the final replicant, Deckard changes. He is made to feel human emotions his targets have felt: terror, pain, vulnerability, a wish to survive.
He discovers that Roy was desperate to be a gentle, romantic creature, even when the man had experienced nothing but horror his entire, meaningless life. I think that a lot of people fail to spot the lesson. This is tacitly brought up in the sequel:. Rick Deckard : I don't know. Ask him. This mirrors a scene from the previous movie, wherein Deckard, when he first meets Rachael, asks whether the owl in the room is real.
In Blade Runner , K is quietly asking Deckard if he is a replicant. We accept an evil status quo, as long as we never see the real victims of that status quo. Most cyperpunk stories make it stupidly obvious who the villain is, but Blade Runner shows us a world where, secretly, the villains are the heroes and the heroes are the villains.
John Doe earned an entry into the pantheon of the great cinematic serial killers with this reptilian turn. What makes our stomach churn is not just his modus operandi but also his icy justifi What makes our stomach churn is not just his modus operandi but also his icy justification of his crimes. His bloodthirsty and evil incarnate Nazi officer gave me jitters with his unpredictable fits of violence and eerie display of occasional self-righteousness.
The only reason he exists is his mission…which is to kill John Connor. He is virtually indestructible and wily to boot.
Then he can pass through any barrier and morph into any human being. And he is relentless. Even a bad ass terminator Arnold thinks staying away from him is good for everyone. Javier Barden played this pasty-faced sadist with gay abandon. Showing cold determination in his pursuit of a certain target, Anton kills innocent people just for the fun of it. And he plays god too letting his frail targets live because they can call his coin tosses correctly.
Jack Nicholson hardly needs to act to look maniacal on most of the occasions. Although introduced late in the movie, his sinister presence lurks from the beginning.
When he appears before us in flesh and blood, he gives us a hard-to-forget vengeful villain whose fury threatens to destroy everything that comes between him and his one single target. Obsessed more about his track record than ensuring true justice, Hank has police department eating out of his hands. And when he sees his reputation in danger at the hands of the hero, he goes hammer and tongs at destroying him. The creepy-looking, rarely-blinking and flesh-eating guy has never been the designated villain in any of his outings but his gastronomical fascination with human limbs and psychological mastery make him instantly dangerous to everyone around him.
Joe Pesci made a living out of playing the volatile gangster with probably the thinnest skin in the world. He plays a moody and quick-witted Tommy who would fly into a rage at the slightest hint of an offense, invariably doing something to make us squirm. His villainous trajectory in this movie is amongst the steepest and scariest of all.
Starting as a jealous heir to throne, turning into a murderous king and finally settling into a monomaniac throwing everything but the kitchen sink to save his name and empire.
Michael Corleone starts out as a war hero who wants nothing to do with the family business, only to get sucked into the mob lifestyle. He lies to his sister, he lies to his wife, and most importantly, he lies to himself.
He promises to turn the Corleone Family legitimate, something that he constantly fails to live up to. He was a war hero and could have chosen to become a successful, legitimate man. Instead, he gets seduced by power and it ends up costing him everything.
He runs foundations, gives a large portion of his money to charity, and is someone the world admires. Inside, though, is a cruel, broken man. What I found interesting is how he speaks of his cruelty: in a soft, ashamed tone, believing he discovered who he really was.
Walter White of Breaking Bad, someone that immediately comes to mind when we think of a protagonist turning into a villain. It soon becomes clear, though, that Walter is enjoying all of this. As he crosses one line after another, leaving corpses behind him, he destroys himself and his family in the process. Question is: did he turn into Heisenberg, or is that who he really was from the start and his terminal cancer merely provided him with an excuse?
A petty tyrant abusing her authority, abusing anyone under her charge. Her main source of pleasure is seeing others suffering. And a very realistically evil person. Many of us, on the other hand, have encountered an authority figure like Dolores Umbridge. A teacher, a principal, a boss, a bureaucrat… there are many like her out there. Ozymandias saves his world but, in doing so, becomes a terrible monster. In many ways this makes him the perfect statement about superheroes in the Post-Modern world.
Some will argue that the man has no personality, but his superiority complex, arrogance, and the weight he carries his decision with make him very real to me.
Like Alexander the Great, he tries to unite the world with violence. If the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, than surely Adrian Veidt has come to the end of it. In his hubris, Veidt has not accounted for all factors, one of which, teased at the end of the novel, has the potential to undo all his "good deeds". Despite the nobility of his goal, for who can argue against stopping a nuclear war, Veidt plays the villain to the hilt in achieving it. He murders anyone who could reveal his scheme, whether it's the Comedian, who just stumbled onto what was happening, or trusted aides, who helped him in carrying out his plan.
Still, it's hard to distinguish a few drops in an ocean of blood. While he may have aspired to be the hero the world needed, he had to be the villain to get there. Adrian Veidt has been deemed "the smartest man in the world" by many, mainly the media, though this title is regarded as well-deserved.
Veidt deftly built both a legitimate and criminal empire large enough to become a global threat through his exploitation of advanced technology and genetics. He has ambition matching his intelligence, evidenced by his successful execution of a plan to help Earth towards utopia by ending international hostilities. He is shown to be a ruthless and master strategist, swiftly eliminating anybody who dares to get in the way of his plans, while maintaining total secrecy.
Veidt also possesses a photographic memory. Additionally, Veidt is depicted at the pinnacle of human physical ability, to the point of being able to reflexively catch a bullet, though he himself was surprised he managed to do so.
He is also an almost superhuman unarmed combatant who easily defeats both Rorschach and Nite Owl. His only defeat came early in his career at the hands of the Comedian, whom he later bested and killed. He explains his plan to save humanity from itself: Inspired by Captain Metropolis' plea that somebody needed to save the world, he devised a scheme to teleport a biologically-engineered, telepathic creature to New York City which would immediately explode in a psychic shock wave, killing millions and convincing the world that they were under extraterrestrial attack.
The United States and the Soviet Union, on the brink of nuclear confrontation, would then end their feud and join forces against the supposed alien invaders. The context of his actions was that the world was on the verge of WW3.
Ozymandias provided the whole planet with a common enemy by staging a fake alien invasion on New York. With all the worlds leaders focused on a potential planetary threat they all saw the bigger picture, turning many feuding nations into allies.
He committed a mass murder to establish world piece, which is why his actions are deemed so controversial. Watchmen is set in an equivalent of the cold war. Ozy sees it's about to turn hot. In order to prevent this, he fakes an alien threat.
His idea was that the world governments would unite against such a threat. The core of his plan was to create a fake alien that would kill millions in new york. There was also some stuff about alexander the great in there, the finer points escape me, but you have to remember this guy has an ego the size of china, spent his youth dressing up in weird costumes to fight crime, and personally knows a glowing blue god, all of which go a long way towards explaing why "fake alien terrorist attack" came to mind before improve diplomatic relationships.
Husband sees hippo bite out wife's heart. Adrian was once considered a hero earlier in his life, so is he still considered a hero even though he killed millions? What do you think? Just when you thought he was too hammy to be terrifying, he brings out subtle sha Just when you thought he was too hammy to be terrifying, he brings out subtle shades of sadism, masochism, sexual frustration, homophobic lust, and a narcissistic nirvana of masturbatory self worship.
As a teenager, I still respected his acting chops. As an adult, I find his work inspirational. Who cares how everyone around you is slacking off? And after he chewed the scenery to pieces and jumped the shark in bipolar villainy, he stood there in pride, still with an elephant in the room presence with his giant god helmet. That helmet would look ridiculous on any other actor, except him, who was already far beyond our petty human bickerings, and had a schizotypal joy in discovering these nuances we would never even understand.
Cyborgs and serial killers, crime bosses and capitalist pigs, literal demons and just plain dickheads: Evil takes many forms on television, and rare is the show that would be any good without it. After all, a memorable villain does more than provide someone for the main characters to punch, shoot, or wrestle into a pond in evening attire — they reveal the protagonists for who they are by demonstrating who they're not. And let's face it, they usually get the coolest lines.
Below you'll find the 40 finest villains ever to dis grace your TV screen. No antiheroes here: Rather than clog up the l No antiheroes here: Rather than clog up the list with the Don Drapers, Piper Chapmans, Walter Whites, and Tony Sopranos of the world, who drive their own stories, we stuck strictly with the characters who exist to run the others off the road.
And believe us, this crew is the best at being the worst. Actor David Tennant is best known for playing one of TV's most iconic heroes on Doctor Who, and his turn as a villain sees him feed more than a little scenery into his maw. But the Kilgrave concept is so chilling, and so resonant with all-too-real abuse, that the character still belongs in any discussion of TV evil. That would be Ace, the preposterously awful hipster who blew up the lives of multiple characters in Girls' fourth season.
His best line, "Let's take some selfies and get weird," is what the Borg would tell people if it was going to assimilate them into Williamsburg. Of course, the show's greatest villain is the British aristocracy itself. But if we limit ourselves to actual human beings, then scheming, sneering footman Thomas Barrow takes top billing.
Always With You I watched your face a million times. It shows the invitation that I can't refuse. Win or loose. Head in noose. Trapped each day. Not one thing I tried, fill me up inside. So now I say.. Close be hand,day by day.
I'll be always beside you. Till the morning comes, till the morning comes our way. I watched you grow from black to white. Enlightened by your message inside. Only fools, Play by rules. So mow I see,what's to hide. Under Gods Naked Eye He sees no more reason, to find the inner strength to carry on. There are no more answers. No more fire in her heart, it all turned black. No tears left to cry, the river's run dry. Under gods naked eye. A frozen horizon, he needs a shining star to melt it down, And color his view.
She needs a new vision, 'cause the one she thought was real, Came tumbling down and shattered the ground of love she had found. The chilly chimes, the bell of pain keeps calling me Until you Save me, 'cause my whole wide world comes tumbling down, My feet can't seem to touch the ground.
You're the only one to save me now He sees no more reason, to find the inner strength to carry on. A frozen horizon, she needs a shining star to melt it down And color the sky, And answer the whys.
Who cared about the car? Inside the walls of the convent was Human Nature - Wishes system of internal passageways and staircases linking the dining room, the community room, the cells, and the chapel, and everywhere there was an atmosphere of cold, clean spaciousness. The Anchoress - Confessions Of A Romance Novelist (File, Album) was all too much to absorb. His convenience. I'd just started to relax when I heard his footsteps coming and jumped when he knocked on my door. By the time she was done cooking His meals, the kitchen Satsanga - Danny Holien - Danny Holien to look as if she had never been it. The whole story is the kind Room Mate - Lizzy Mercier Descloux - Mambo Nassau bait-and-switch a supervillain would love. Written by Tiffany 1 walked-in-on-us 1 Wanna come over to my place 1 Wanna play a game?
Fix You - Jai McDowall - Believe, African Queen - Various - All This And Slowly Deteriorating Fast. The Memoirs Of A Geriatric Jazz Bu, Shine With Me - P.O.D. - When Angels & Serpents Dance, Dotkni Se Snů - Michaela Weissová - Lehkej Styl, Monotone - OceanDub - Irrelevant Side A: Suck Your Dad (All Media)