author: sarah q, satire, TV

D8 a Str8 Valentine’s Edition: How to Do Valentine’s Day and Still Be Punk

Heart-shaped boxes of candy are on sale, Papa Johns are doing heart-shaped pizza, and for some reason my Facebook ads are all lingerie themed. Could only mean one thing: Valentine’s Day is here. That’s right, the least important day of the year has arrived again! Sure, we all know you’re more excited for February 15th – when all the heart-shaped shit is suddenly on sale, but what are you going to do on the day? Why even celebrate at all, it’s not like you’re Emily Blunt and John Krasinski (objectively the best couple in the world, don’t @ me). To celebrate it would surely make you a hypocrite; what is Valentine’s day if not a capitalist money making machine that teaches young girls that love and affection are intrinsically tied to monetary value?

But also, who doesn’t like stuff? I like stuff. Buy me things!

Sticky situation right? Worry not, ladies! I’ve devised a guide to celebrating V day but still staying punk.

Continue reading

Advertisements
Standard
Boshemia Staff, long read, pop culture, review, TV

Boshemia Best of 2018

It’s been a year of powerhouse womxn, fabulous page to screen adaptations, overwhelmingly binge-worthy television, and Fuck-You-Pay-Me music. The babes at Boshemia rounded up their favorite bits of pop culture of 2018. Continue reading

Standard
Boshemia recommends, news, politics, pop culture, recommendation, review, Toots & Boots, Topical, TV

Toots & Boots // Mrs Maisel, Christmas Crapitalism & Spiderman

Mrs Maisel causes a staff stir, Netflix brings us yet another teen movie success, and Brexit negotiations were too damn much this week! Find out what the team have been loving and hating in another instalment of Toots & Boots. Continue reading

Standard
author: Eve, Personal Essay, pop culture, TV

The Pleasures and Pains of the Small Screen

by Eve Jones (V). Photograph by Sven Scheurmeier.

I’ve never really had on-screen romantic crushes, but I remember from a young age having this ache when watching my favourite actors on screen. Watching Rachel McAdams in The Time Traveller’s Wife, Rose Leslie as Ygritte in Game of Thrones, and most recently Kiernan Shipka, who plays the title character in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (CAOS).

As I hope to be bezzy mates with these people one day, it embarrasses me to say how much I wanted to be them at one point or another. The actors and their characters merge together in my mind to create this superhuman who is everything I long to be: brave, daring, hard working, funny, likeable, confident. In the past, this led me to send off (or thankfully just keep in drawers) gushing fan mail that I was convinced they would read and immediately want to befriend me. I hoped they would understand me as I thought I understood them.

My latest foray into this kind of mania is potentially my most embarrassing yet: I’m 20 years old and I am literally crying that I will never be Sabrina the teenage witch. I’m in a social policy lecture wishing I was Kiernan Shipka. I’m eating dinner with my boyfriend wishing I was Kiernan Shipka. I lay awake at night wishing I was Kiernan Shipka.

I am aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. I have a good, privileged life and normally I love escaping into TV shows, so I was confused as to why I felt so sad just thinking about CAOS (which is brilliant, by the way). So, rather than wallow in my painful obsession, stalk every cast member on Instagram and read their entire IMDB bio, I thought I would try to investigate. How had I come to feel like this? My first clue came from a university English course book: An Introduction to Literature, Criticism and Theory (more thrilling than the title suggests). Talking about Emily Dickinson’s poetry, they wrote:

“It can feel oddly jarring, even painful to stop reading a poem like Dickinson’s. The world it creates – in the space of just 16 lines – can seem more charged and vital than the everyday reality to which we return on putting down the book.”

Isn’t it that vitality that we rewatch a film or return to a TV show season after season? How vacant our bedroom can feel in the silence after the credits roll. The further away a film or show takes us from our reality, the more banal it can seem to come back, absent of those characters and their purpose. And we love to take ourselves deeper, turning the lights off, binge-watching, youtubing cast bloopers, researching plots. It’s no wonder that a detailed, enchanting other world, whose characters are scripted to be special and lovable can have such an impact on us. They create something delicious and we devour it with relish.

But it wasn’t the show that I missed, it was the life that I was temporarily able to live (and knew I never fully could) that made me so melancholy. So I kept searching and eventually while watching a School of Life video on Youtube, I came across another potential answer. The narrator suggested the idea that the beautiful scenes in films sometimes make us more sad than morose:

“The loveliness is drawing our attention to some of the struggles we face, and to some of the things we really want, but are finding it so hard to get: reconciliation, forgiveness, tenderness, an end to the fighting, a chance to say sorry. We start to cry at a brief vision of a state of grace from which we’re exiled most of the time.”

Again, I’m aware that this idea of being exiled from a state of grace all sounds very dramatic, but feeling separate from those on-screen joys and experiences resonated with me. Instead of reconciliation, forgiveness or tenderness, what I so desired was the admirable traits of the characters and the chance the actors had to produce something worthwhile. Being positive, fierce and willful felt so unattainable as, having just started university, I moped about feeling like sleep-deprived, friendless potato.

It is easy, especially with social media, to become fascinated by the actors who get to make the art that you love and be closer to that world you so want to be a part of. I longed to be both Sabrina and Kiernan Shipka as they lived extra-ordinary lives: Sabrina playing with literal witchcraft, Shipka with the magic of magazine covers and TV sets. It was easy to concentrate on what I didn’t have in light of what they did, who I wanted to be in light of who they already were.

Now, I’m trying to let go of this desire. Instead of cringing at myself, I’m attempting to develop some of those characteristics that I admired in Sabrina, her friends and Shipka. Maybe I can’t be a courageous witch, but I can try to be a more confident, a better friend and make change that matters. I’m still eagerly awaiting the next season of CAOS, which will hopefully be equally abundant with teen rebellion, defiance of the devil’s patriarchal systems and diverse representation.

I just hope that next time I don’t get quite so entwined in the pain and can simply be grateful for the pleasure of some good TV.

Eve’s essay, “The New Female in Film” appears in Issue 04 of Boshemia Magazine.
Standard
author: sarah q, pop culture, TV

The White Male Antihero // Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul & Framing Bad Acts

Let’s take a trip down memory lane. The year is 2012: the movie 2012 just came out, Obama got elected to his second term in office, the concept of President Trump was a lazy improv suggestion, and Netflix’s advertising strategy in the UK was quite literally “we’re the only place in the UK where you can watch Breaking Bad, the best show on television, and probably one of the best shows ever made.”

Breaking Bad is among one of the best shows I’ve ever seen, but in retrospect, it’s a relic of the age of the awesome white male antihero; the privileged badass who does terrible things with no comeuppance. It’s still a fantastic show, but in 2018, if we’re watching a Straight White Male ruin his life, it needs to be framed differently. Bojack Horseman is basically Mad Men with a cartoon horse, but by making it a half-hour sitcom starring anthropomorphic animals, we forget that the lead character has all the privilege in the world and there’s really no reason to sympathise with him.

breaking bad better caull saul

Continue reading

Standard
author: Eve, current events, review, TV

Becoming Gilead // How ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ Continues to Mirror Trump’s America

By Eve Jones. CW: contains spoilers for Season 1 and 2 of The Handmaid’s Tale on Hulu.

A patriarchal society which relies on women suffering and the elite turning a blind eye for power: sound familiar? This is the basis of the dystopian state, Gilead, in Margaret Atwood’s novel The Handmaid’s Tale. The book, which was last year transformed into a thrilling, critically appraised television series, follows Offred (Elisabeth Moss) who is one of the few remaining fertile women in America. She is consequently conscripted as a ‘Handmaid’ to endure monthly rape to reproduce for the families most faithful to the state.

Continue reading

Standard