Triangle is a cinematic puzzle that takes its audience on a harrowing journey through a maze of time, morality, and human frailty.

Christopher Smith's 2009 thriller, starring Melissa George, who is absolutely exceptional here, is a masterclass in storytelling, filled with twisty plot elements and a pervasive sense of sadness that lingers long after the credits roll.

The film introduces us to Jess (Melissa George), a complex and tormented character who embarks on a seemingly innocent sailing trip with a group of friends.

As their voyage takes a chilling turn, they encounter a ghostly, abandoned ocean liner called the Aeolus. What follows is a descent into a nightmarish realm of inexplicable events, and a growing sense of dread. The genius of Triangle lies in its ability to confound the audience, leading us to question what is real and what is illusion, much like the characters themselves.

The plot of Triangle is a cinematic Rubik's Cube that is deliberately designed to keep viewers off balance. The film constantly challenges our perceptions of reality and identity, and it's impossible to predict the direction it will take. Every twist and turn deepens the intrigue, leaving us emotionally invested in the characters' fates.

The ending of Triangle is a subject of intense debate among viewers and critics. Some may interpret it as a glimmer of hope, while others see it as a chilling revelation of the characters' eternal damnation.

Without giving away any spoilers, the ending is an enigma that invites interpretation, and it leaves you pondering the implications of the characters' actions and the cyclical nature of guilt and punishment. It's a conclusion that mirrors the film's overall theme of moral reckoning.

One of the most notable aspects of Triangle is its unrelenting sense of sadness. With its overarching sense of melancholy, the film is profoundly affecting. Melissa George's performance as Jess is a tour de force, carrying the weight of the film's emotional depth.

Defying easy categorization, existing in a genre all its own, it is a tale of tragedy and consequence, a labyrinthine narrative that invites contemplation and debate. Whether you find the ending hopeful or disquieting, Triangle is undeniably a masterpiece of mind-bending storytelling that continues to haunt and perplex its viewers.

If you have access to Kanopy through your local library, you can access Triange for free here:

https://www.kanopy.com/en/howardcounty/video/10494694

Out of my league

It's well known that of the cruelest grades, ninth is third, seventh is second, and fourth is first.-Niles Crane, Frasier

Maybe you have heard this dated stereotype about lesbians: that they are that way because they couldn’t get a man. 

When I used to hear that it made me so angry, because I knew it wasn’t the truth, but I also felt a tiny pain in my soul, because I also wondered if it was the truth, or at least partly.

I began realizing I was not part of the norm during third grade, but it was fourth grade when things really kicked in and took a turn for the worse. 

It's hard to write about it without sounding self-pitying (something I don't want to do) but it is also hard because it's very painful to remember...so I don't: most days I hardly ever think about my past.

Things still get under skin, though, and stay there and being picked on (or ignored) every school day from third to ninth grade affects a person, no matter how much they push it down.

I was often called ugly by boys (sometimes girls too) but more of the comments were mean nicknames based on my hair, which was unruly, kinky curly and non-discrete red all at the same time. 

My mom made all of my and my sister's clothes, and though that was a source of teasing as well, that didn't bother as much. That kind of teasing wasn't the direct attack that comments about my ugliness and hair were.

By the time I was in sixth grade I knew boys would never be interested in me in the right kind of way. I might have been some of lab experiment for them, but I certainly was never going to turn their heads and have them ask me out.

I find it weird that I had crushes on teen idols Shaun Cassidy and Michael Damian in the late 70s and early 80s and then never again did I have crushes on male stars.

My feelings through the years for women have definitely been real and solid, so I'm not denying them. But, recently, I've started feeling like I might like men that way, (in addition) after all.

If it turns out I'm bisexual as well being a 50+ plus virgin, I'm more confused than ever. And I wonder if I pushed down wanting normal things (like a husband and children) not because I didn't want them but because I knew I could never have them.

If anyone out there is reading this I just want to say that I am not denying my queer side, but genuinely wondering what is going on with me and if anyone else like me is out there? 

Beautiful Despair

This is my clinical approach to a show that is utterly bleak yet is lovely and heartbreaking and should be, but somehow can’t be, written about with the passion I want to:

"Dark" is a German-language science fiction thriller that takes viewers on a mind-bending journey through time and space, weaving a complex narrative that is equal parts fascinating, strange, and compelling. 

The show's unique take on time travel is what sets it apart. With interconnected timelines, generations, and paradoxes, "Dark" is an intricate puzzle that challenges viewers to pay close attention. 

As each season unfolds, the layers of this temporal mystery are peeled back, revealing a rich tapestry of interconnected events that leaves you spellbound.

At the heart of "Dark" are its deeply flawed and multifaceted characters. They are not the conventional heroes we often find in TV series, but rather authentic people shaped by their past, present, and future actions. 

The web of relationships and family ties in Winden, the small town where the series is set, is as tangled as the time travel itself. These characters are unforgettable, their stories resonating long after the credits roll.

What makes "Dark" truly compelling is its ability to keep you guessing. With plot twists that come out of nowhere and revelations that shatter preconceived notions, the show's creators masterfully keep viewers on the edge of their seats. 

As you navigate through the various timelines and intricacies, you can't help but become engrossed in the labyrinthine narrative, always yearning to solve the enigma.

The series' name is more than just a title; it's a reflection of its mood and aesthetics. 

"Dark" exudes an eerie atmosphere that adds to its overall allure. The cinematography, subdued color palette, and haunting soundtrack create a palpable sense of foreboding that's both strange and captivating.

It doesn't just tell a story; it explores the concept of the butterfly effect with precision. 

Every action, every choice, ripples through time, affecting not only individuals but the entire town of Winden. It's a poignant commentary on the consequences of our decisions and the interconnectedness of our lives.

"Dark" lingers in your thoughts, demanding repeated viewings to grasp its full complexity. 

Its portrayal of time as an unyielding force, binding past, present, and future, is chilling. For anyone seeking a series that is as strange as it is fascinating, as compelling as it is unforgettable, "Dark" on Netflix is a must-watch.

My un-clinical take on “Dark”? This could mess you up in the best way possible. 💔 But it's also the gift that keeps on giving because each re-watch shows you something you didn't see before.

-

I preface the following not to complain, but to provide context: I was called ugly repeatedly in middle school and am very biased toward that word and the people who use it to demean others. 

I’m not arguing that it’s not a true word when applied to me, just that it is a hurtful and unnecessary one.

Helen Rubinstein once said that "there are no ugly women, only lazy ones.”

This statement oversimplifies beauty by implying that it is solely a result of effort and cosmetics. 

It disregards the diverse factors that contribute to an individual's appearance, including genetics, health, and personal preferences. 

Not everyone has the same access to beauty products or the time to dedicate to an extensive beauty routine, and equating this with laziness is unfair.

The statement perpetuates harmful beauty standards that pressure women to conform to a particular, often unattainable, ideal of beauty. 

It suggests that a woman's worth is contingent on her appearance and the effort she puts into her looks, fostering insecurity and low self-esteem in those who don't meet these standards.

And it ignores the importance of individuality and self-acceptance.

Every person is unique, and embracing one's unique features and characteristics is a crucial aspect of self-confidence and self-love.

Reducing beauty to a matter of diligence and grooming diminishes the significance of accepting oneself as they are.

The portrayal of Maris Crane on "Frasier" has long bothered me due to its treatment of her apparent eating disorder. 

Maris, who is Niles Crane's elusive and unseen wife, then ex-wife, throughout the series, is frequently the subject of jokes and comments related to her extremely thin appearance and peculiar eating habits. (Niles once commented to Fraser how they laughed when they made Maris cry when they tried to get her to eat a piece of pie with ice cream on it).

It's essential to recognize that the show "Frasier" was a sitcom that used humor as its primary mode of entertainment. 

But the way Maris's character is handled is appalling to me. The consistent references to her being emaciated, her unusual diets like "melon cubes" and "paprika," and the fact that she is often portrayed as a controlling and eccentric character, all contributed to the discomfort that some viewers felt. 

These portrayals perpetuate stereotypes and make light of a serious issue, namely eating disorders.

Eating disorders are complex and often debilitating mental health conditions that affect millions of people worldwide. 

They can have severe physical and psychological consequences, making it a delicate subject to handle in a comedic context. 

For many, the humor surrounding Maris's character might ocome across as insensitive and inconsiderate.

The portrayal of Maris in "Frasier" also highlights a broader issue in the entertainment industry: the tendency to use mental health issues as punchlines or character quirks. 

Such depictions can trivialize real struggles and perpetuate stigma. It's essential for creators and writers to approach sensitive subjects like eating disorders with care and sensitivity, recognizing the impact their portrayals can have on viewers who may be going through similar challenges.

While “Frasier" is undoubtedly a beloved show with a vast fan base and remains one of my comfort tv favorites, the treatment of Maris still troubles me. 

It's a reminder that even in the realm of comedy, there's a responsibility to handle sensitive subjects with care and respect, as they have the potential to affect how viewers perceive and understand real-life issues.