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Новосибирск красавицы Сибири
Novosibirsk’s Siberian Beauties
Маяк засекреченная ядерная катастрофа
Mayak: The Secret Nuclear Catastrophe
Таргиз поликлиника на рельсах
Targiz: A Hospital on Rails
Anna Yuzhakova takes her laptop computer with her to the restaurant car. She wants to show her international visitor the many charms of Siberian beauties. They are the result, she says, of years of mixed marriages by citizens from different republics of the former Soviet Union.
Anna is a scout. She discovers new talents for the Noah Models agency in St. Petersburg.
She is herself a former model. Four times a year she crosses her native region by train searching for the next top models, the ones who will one day strut the catwalks of Paris or New York.
Her travelling companion, Stephane Hababou, watches the photos of would-be models scroll across the screen. He’s also a scout. He represents the prestigious Marilyn agency in Paris.
It’s his first trip to Siberia. Hababou says it’s the best way for him to find new prospects ahead of his competition.
There’s not a moment to waste. Anna and Stephane stop in every large city of the region, holding a casting call that is open to all.
About 50 teen girls in black undergarments and stiletto heels greet Anna and Stephane at every stop. Some move nervously. Others proudly show off their curves.
The presence of this visitor from Paris ramps up the pressure. Everyone knows Hababou holds the key to a possible career abroad. It’s an opportunity to follow both an American and French dream, a chance to escape the daily drudgery of life in Siberia.
Anna invites Marina Korotkova to step forward. The 17-year-old barely has the time to take two steps before a cutting remark welcomes her into the world of modelling, even if pronounced under the guise of humour. “Marina is a little overweight.” At 93 centimetres, her hips are too wide. The visitors still take a few photos and recommend she go on a diet.
Russia’s largest modelling school is in Novosibirsk. It’s a unique breeding ground for girls who start training as early as age 10 or 12. They learn fashion photography techniques and how to sway their hips on a catwalk.
Fifteen-year-old Kristina Churina, a recent graduate, catches Stephane Hababou’s eye. If she loses a little weight, she could end up in Paris within the year, modeling the creations of top designers.
But few are chosen. Anna selects about 30 young women during each of her Siberian scouting trips. Only a fraction of them will ever end up with real modelling careers.
To be ready to seize the opportunity if presented with it, Kristina has been taking intensive English courses. She also has a plan B. She’s studying tourism and hopes to one day manage a large hotel.
Anna Yuzhakova takes her laptop computer with her to the restaurant car. She wants to show her international visitor the many charms of Siberian beauties. They are the result, she says, of years of mixed marriages by citizens from different republics of the former Soviet Union.
Anna is a scout. She discovers new talents for the Noah Models agency in St. Petersburg.
She is herself a former model. Four times a year she crosses her native region by train searching for the next top models, the ones who will one day strut the catwalks of Paris or New York.
Her travelling companion, Stephane Hababou, watches the photos of would-be models scroll across the screen. He’s also a scout. He represents the prestigious Marilyn agency in Paris.
It’s his first trip to Siberia. Hababou says it’s the best way for him to find new prospects ahead of his competition.
There’s not a moment to waste. Anna and Stephane stop in every large city of the region, holding a casting call that is open to all.
About 50 teen girls in black undergarments and stiletto heels greet Anna and Stephane at every stop. Some move nervously. Others proudly show off their curves.
The presence of this visitor from Paris ramps up the pressure. Everyone knows Hababou holds the key to a possible career abroad. It’s an opportunity to follow both an American and French dream, a chance to escape the daily drudgery of life in Siberia.
Anna invites Marina Korotkova to step forward. The 17-year-old barely has the time to take two steps before a cutting remark welcomes her into the world of modelling, even if pronounced under the guise of humour. “Marina is a little overweight.” At 93 centimetres, her hips are too wide. The visitors still take a few photos and recommend she go on a diet.
Russia’s largest modelling school is in Novosibirsk. It’s a unique breeding ground for girls who start training as early as age 10 or 12. They learn fashion photography techniques and how to sway their hips on a catwalk.
Fifteen-year-old Kristina Churina, a recent graduate, catches Stephane Hababou’s eye. If she loses a little weight, she could end up in Paris within the year, modeling the creations of top designers.
But few are chosen. Anna selects about 30 young women during each of her Siberian scouting trips. Only a fraction of them will ever end up with real modelling careers.
To be ready to seize the opportunity if presented with it, Kristina has been taking intensive English courses. She also has a plan B. She’s studying tourism and hopes to one day manage a large hotel.
Siberia is known around the world for its frigid temperatures. But in the world of fashion, the region is famous for being home to the most beautiful women in the world.
The measuring tape is king. Minimum height: 172 centimetres (5 feet, 6 inches). Maximum hips: 90 centimetres (35.4 inches).
Casting calls are open to all and attract about 60 hopeful young women every time they are held.
The measuring tape is unforgiving. With hips measuring 93 centimetres (36.6 inches), Marina Korotkova is considered “a little fat.”
Stephane Hababou, from the Marilyn agency in Paris, has come to Siberia to find the most promising beauties before his rivals do.
Anna Yuzhakova (centre), herself a former model, visits Siberia four times a year on behalf of the Noah modeling agency in St. Petersburg.
Anna discovers 30 to 40 fresh and interesting faces every month.
Anastasia Akhmameteva catches the eye of Stephane Hababou. Her ticket to Paris is within reach.
For the ones left behind, the rejection is often brutal.
15-year-old Kristina Churina just graduated from Novosibirsk’s modelling school and has caught the attention of the Paris agency.
But Stephane Hababou hesitates about Kristina: “If she loses weight, we’ll see see how she changes.”
Siberia is considered a modelling reservoir, thanks to ethnic mixing.
A little powder, and barely pubescent girls turn into femmes fatales.
A fashion show after the casting call allows scouts to observe the models in real conditions.
For many young women from small villages, modelling offers a chance to travel and earn a lot of money.
[Random Cool] You Have To See This Shocking Porn Casting Call!
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Created by My Duck’s Vision , Bloody Disgusting reader ‘Jian R.’ sent us this awesome viral video that requires a bit of patience.
In the below, a Russian girl is being auditioned in what appears to be a porn video. If you get bored, skim ahead to the final minute where you’ll get to see some awesome gore and even better visual effects work.
I wish we could get these guys for a V/H/S sequel!
Horror movie fanatic who co-founded Bloody Disgusting in 2001. Producer on Southbound, V/H/S/2/3/94, SiREN, Under the Bed, and A Horrible Way to Die. Chicago-based. Horror, pizza and basketball connoisseur. Taco Bell daily. Franchise favs: Hellraiser, Child's Play, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Scream and Friday the 13th. Horror 365 days a year.
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Sheets of rain blanket the 1978 New York skyline as a marquis comes into view, touting its message in bright, pink letters: Madeline Ashton in Songbird! Rather than flocking in, however, the theater’s patrons seem to be flooding out, stepping on water logged playbills sporting Ms. Ashton’s smiling face as they grumble their dissatisfaction. Still, inside, amidst the remaining audience members, at least one man stares captivated at the ingenue on stage as she launches into a number extolling her own virtues.
He is Dr. Ernest Menville and beside him is his date, Helen Sharp. Her apprehensive gaze is not on the stage but Ernest, clocking the hungry look in his eye as he follows each flamboyant movement of the actress before him. A standing ovation, a friendly encounter in the dressing room and a wedding later, Helen finds herself alone in her apartment seven years removed, with nothing but her cats, the television and her hatred of her former friend Madeline Ashton to keep her company.
There is a wickedness that pervades even the lightest hearted genre pictures, a playful mean streak that goes with the territory of the otherworldly. From its opening moments, Death Becomes Her (1992) straddles that line, lumbering backwards in high heels as it navigates the immortal, warring, undead divas its runtime so concerns. Like the concurrently running Tales From the Crypt television series the film’s director Robert Zemeckis was also Executive Producing, this was a tale of revenge and comeuppance rooted in the twisted irreverence of all the pulpy anthology horror that had come before it.
While there has been anthology horror in film and print for as long as the mediums have existed, much of its modern influence can be traced back to the pages of 1950’s era EC Comics with series like Tales From the Crypt , The Haunt of Fear and The Vault of Horror . Eventually the page gave way to the screen with adaptations like Tales From the Crypt (1972) and The Vault of Horror (1973), even spawning original interpretations from titans of genre storytelling with Stephen King and George A. Romero’s collaboration on Creepshow (1982).
Beyond the television adaptation, Zemeckis was so fascinated by the comics and the original 1972 movie, that he set out to create a sequel to the Tales From the Crypt film. At the same time, screenwriter David Koepp had just inked a deal with Universal which included a script he had written with Martin Donovan . A dark comedy infused with Koepp’s revulsion concerning Beverly Hills’ culture of vanity, the script, which had begun as an anthology itself, had been pared down to only one tale.
The screenplay concerned a man who attempts to kill his wife to no avail, discovering in the process that she is a witch and cannot die. It was not long before the script fell into Zemeckis’ hands. It was clear to him from the start that the macabre tale of amusement, horror and biting satire fit the Tales From the Crypt formula perfectly. Similar to the show, Zemeckis wanted to bring a modern gothic feel to the proceedings, a glamorous sense of wealth, excess and beauty that was deliciously soured by its protagonists’ obtuse and obsessive selfishness.
While rewrites and narrative reworking ultimately steered the movie away from being either a sequel to 1972’s Tales From the Crypt or even the first theatrical feature representing the TV series (an honor that would later go to Tales From the Crypt: Demon Knight (1995)), what emerged was still infused with the anthology’s DNA. Bringing with him the knowledge and state of the art technology he had employed when creating Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988) just a few years before and collaborating with Industrial Light and Magic, Zemeckis set out to make a movie as visually dazzling and bizarre as the starkly witty, morbid and altogether entertaining script demanded.
The story follows three players, Madeline, Helen and Ernest, their destinies intertwined by the lifelong rivalry shared between the two women. Both victims of and subscribers to the debilitating expectations of beauty, femininity and competitive self worth in society at large, they spend the film’s runtime vying for the attention of Ernest, a once celebrated surgeon fallen to alcoholism and mortuary work. Neither desires the man, rather the victory, as both hold little but disdain for the weak willed shell of a person who’s so easily manipulated for the vast majority of the film.
Seven years removed from her marriage to Ernest, Madeline has grown to resent him. Be it his professional failings, his penchant for the drink or simply the fact that she never loved him in the first place, she spends her time in the arms of another man and dreaming of her lost youth. Desperate for a solution to her waning relevance in a world so obsessed with beauty, she finds her way to Lisle von Rothman ( Isabella Rossellini ), the keeper of a serum which promises eternal youth. What Madeline doesn’t know is that Helen has already met with Lisle and is in route to take revenge for the life that Madeline once stole from her.
After Helen convinces Ernest to kill Madeline through careful and measured means, Madeline returns home only to further quarrel with Ernest. He loses control and attacks, strangling her and dropping her down the stairs, breaking her neck. On the phone with Helen for advice, he discovers that Madeline is anything but dead. He rushes her to the hospital where a doctor finds no sign of life, despite her conscious state. Once back home, Madeline and Helen have it out, climaxing in Madeline’s decision to target a shotgun blast through Helen’s stomach. It’s then that Ernest is tasked with performing the ongoing maintenance the two undead women’s damaged and rotting bodies will require.
Enhancing the proceedings is the groundbreaking, and Oscar winning, visual effects. Combining practical effects, animatronics and CGI that, for the first time, was applied to create photorealistic human skin, ILM and the creative team bring every grotesque moment of the two immortal women’s battle to startling life. Be it a gaping hole in Helen’s chest from a shotgun blast or Madeline’s contorted neck, providing her a rear view that no human eyes should have, the effects further foster the disturbing yet cartoonish reality that Death Becomes Her so charmingly occupies.
Striking visual effects aside, it’s the remarkable cast that stands as the best effect in Zemeckis’ impressive arsenal. Meryl Streep plays Madeline with gaudy aplomb, wearing her insecurities plainly through even the thickest veil of confidence. Goldie Hawn appears as Helen, beginning as a sheepish introvert and transforming so effectively into a gregarious exhibitionist that the two hardly feel like the same person. Bruce Willis rounds out the trio as the put upon Dr. Ernest Menville, a pathetic, broken drunk that finds the will to live when faced with not the promise of death but the guarantee that his misery might not ever come to an end.
Each character is stuck, unhappy and determined to escape or curb their perceived fate. Like the best anthology entries, it moves with energy and purpose, allowing its characters to be as larger than life as its elaborate sets and outrageous story. Still, regardless of the murky moralities at play beneath Ernest, Helen and Madeline’s projected facades, there is a clear right and wrong, a condemning truth that those attempting to play the creator will have to face.
Deciding that they will need Ernest by their side for their chosen eternities, Madeline and Helen arrange for Ernest to meet with Lisle. At a “Spring” party occupied by familiar faces of supposedly dead celebrities, such as Elvis, Andy Warhol and Marilyn Monroe, Ernest must face the choice of eternal youth and restoration. He’s confronted with the overwhelming allure of distilled beauty. The choice reminds of the glitz and glamor of Madeline Ashton at the beginning of the film, her celebrity as compared to his then mundane girlfriend, each more of an idea than a person. It would seem that Ernest’s decisions were driven by the same motivations as his counterparts, regardless of the authenticity he convinced himself he was operating under.
The film climaxes and concludes with Ernest’s decision to embrace his true self, his faults, his failings and his future, choosing to seek solace in finding purpose in the time he has left. Madeline and Helen are left together, trapped eternally in the bodies they so craved which, as with all things, are subject to the cruel frailties
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