Posters by Tony Stella, featuring Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï, Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker, Kaneto Shindo’s Onibaba, Masahiro Shinoda’s Pale Flower, Jean-Luc Godard’s Pierrot le Fou, Roberto Rossellini’s Rome, Open City, Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris, Akira Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood, Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2, and James Cameron’s The Terminator.
"Hey man, why’d you kick my friend in the balls? Not cool!"
"I’m pretty much fucked.
That’s my considered opinion.
Six days into what should be the greatest two months of my life, and it’s turned into a nightmare.
I don’t even know who’ll read this. I guess someone will find it eventually. Maybe a hundred years from now.
For the record… I didn’t die on Sol 6. Certainly the rest of the crew thought I did, and I can’t blame them. Maybe there’ll be a day of national mourning for me, and my Wikipedia page will say, “Mark Watney is the only human being to have died on Mars.”
And it’ll be right, probably. ‘Cause I’ll surely die here. Just not on Sol 6 when everyone thinks I did.
Let’s see… where to begin?
The Ares program. Mankind reaching out to Mars to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah. The Ares 1 crew did their thing and came back heroes. They got the parades and fame and love of the world.
Ares 2 did the same thing, in a different location on Mars. They got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when they got home.
Ares 3. Well, that was my mission. Okay, not mine per se. Commander Lewis was in charge. I was just one of her crew. Actually, I was the very lowest ranked member of the crew. I would only be “in command” of the mission if I were the only remaining person.
What do you know? I’m in command.
I wonder if this log will be recovered before the rest of the crew dies of old age. I presume they got back to Earth all right. Guys, if you’re reading this: It wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to do. In your position I would have done the same thing. I don’t blame you, and I’m glad you survived.”
Hunger. Shame. 12 Years a Slave. The films of Steve McQueen are uncompromising in their subject matter and captivating in their use of cinema’s unique language. A director who elevates film into a means for the expression of the human condition, there is no denying of McQueen’s alluring ability to shed light on cinema as art.
Steve McQueen embodies the filmmaker who takes risks and understands how mystery and poetry can merge with cinema’s capacity for reality to bring forth emotional films that will certainly withstand the test of time. Great art surpasses the devastation of time, and McQueen’s devastating but beautiful films share this quality: they are unforgettable. For all the accolades the filmmaker receives and doesn’t, Steve McQueen will remain a fundamental figure in film history and in the hearts of many for whom filmmaking is as devastating and beautiful as his films and as essential as them as well.
"Film is important; it can be more than reportage or a novel—it creates images people have never seen before, never imagined they’d see, maybe because they needed someone else to imagine them." -Steve McQueen
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” -Frank Herbert, Dune
Dune’s 1st edition hardcover artwork by John Schoenherr