For his role in 12 Years a Slave, Michael Fassbender needed to prepare. He needed to research. He needed to learn to carry himself in the manner of a slave-master with rage and hatred in his heart, a drinking problem, and a toxic marriage. He needed to master an accent that was not its own. He needed to speak. Speak words, not just make a yelping sound when someone says “speak?” and have everybody else pretend that that counts as speaking before handing him some food-based reward. Fassbender, in short, had to act.
Wrote a very silly thing.
It’s that thing when you’re with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it… but it’s a party… and you’re both talking to other people, and you’re laughing and shining… and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes… but not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual… but because… that is your person in this life. And it’s funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it’s this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us, but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.
Frances Ha 
The scene of the year. And last year. And probably next year. I really can’t even put into words how it makes me feel.
Jason’s on it.
R.I.P. literally everyone in this frame.
Join us as we look at a memorable piece of video-store iconography, courtesy of Prom Night II: Hello, Mary Lou.
"Hey, are you watching Homeland right n—”
Banjo Guy 1: “How happy are customers who switch to Geico?”
Banjo Guy 2: “Happier than Salma Hayek announcing an Oscar nomination for Penelope Cruz?”
Meryl reacting to Braveheart’s Best Picture win.