About two weeks ago I started watching another show, as I am wont to do, mostly because my schoolwork was piling up and I needed a reason not to do it. The show was CBS’s 2 Broke Girls, and after catching up on the first eight episodes I was linked to this article via a review on the A.V. Club’s TV Club.
The article discusses 1/2 of the show’s creative duo Michael Patrick King, who was an executive producer on Sex in the City, and his reasons for disregarding critics who are calling him out on perpetuating racial stereotypes. I’m going to present his quote first, then the alleged racist portrayals.
“I’m not going to change. No, absolutely not.”
“I believe that anybody, when you see them for the first time, you judge them based on the surface.”
First (and foremost) on the docket is Asian-American actor Matthew Moy, who plays Han (Bryce) Lee, the owner of the diner where the two leading ladies work. To be fair to King and CBS, a lot of the racial idiosyncrasies described here in the casting sides were toned down a lot in the actual airing of the show. Yes, Han still speaks terrible English, has a very poor understanding of holidays and anything else American (“And the Very Christmas Thanksgiving”), and makes an obvious reference to William Hung (“And the Rich People Problems), but it’s all in good fun.
The following are two clips. The first from Moy’s appearance on Criminal Minds, and the second of his character on 2 Broke Girls.
Well, you may be asking, has the show deepened Moy’s character? Maybe all we’re seeing is this surface King was describing. To answer your question, not really. Moy continues to speak hilariously broken English, but has since become more of a nerdy stereotype than anything. His accent has become distracting at best, and continues to baffle me since Koreans are good at English. It’s like Han was raised in a remote village or much further North.
I’m going to list off the other racial stereotypes in a huge list, because going through them one at a time would be exhausting: the in-your-face Puerto Rican (“And Strokes of Goodwill”), the obnoxious Italian women (“And the Pretty Problem), the Mexican men who help with manual labour (“And the Disappearing Bed”), the wealthy, Middle Eastern women speaking very heavily accented English (“And the Pop-Up Sale”). All of these appear only once, and don’t include principal cast members Oleg, the salacious Russian fry cook, and Earl, the aging African-American hepcat.With the exceptions of Han, Oleg, and Earl, none of these other characters have a chance to redeem themselves, to give you a chance to do anything but “judge them based on the surface.” The three aforementioned characters, however, have been resigned to the sidelines, not really moving forward at all.Michael Patrick King also said in the article that “Anyone who’s ever lived in New York has walked through an enormous melting pot of people. So for me, to do a show where you’re not exploring race would be absurd in Brooklyn, N.Y.” I can agree with the statement, but believe that only half applies to King. This is a man who has “walked through an enormous melting pot of people,” and gleaned what little he could from short glimpses as he passed them by.
The reason I didn’t want to talk about donating to charity, especially during the Christmas season, is because it’s so often portrayed and spoken of as a thought-free, morally spotless, warm-fuzzy inducing act. A no-brainer. Nothing to fret over. It’s also often one of those things we try to exchange for middle-class guilt; we donate $50 to charity in order to feel free to spend hundreds (thousands) on ourselves and our family and friends without qualms.
The act of donating to charity is a pit of postmodern angst: it’s cliché, it breeds self-righteousness, it can make a student go crazy with self-consciousness and infinite reevaluations of our “real motivations,” and it can instill in us (alternately) a false sense of optimism or a nihilistic feeling of despair and ultimate uselessness (when the realization of the ratio between our donations and our own frivolous personal expenses sets in). It is not, by any means, a no-brainer.
Another problem with donating is that charities are confusing and sometimes we don’t agree with how they operate. We can look up budget reports all day and still not ever really know how charities and government organizations decide which families get turkeys. Also, religious NGOs may direct finances towards pro-life or anti-gay-rights legislation; secular charitable organizations might fund birth control distribution, military support, or homosexual rights. Odds are, you’re going to disagree with some practice of whatever organization you choose.
What I’m worried about is when the confusing details and qualms prevent or inhibit action; we discuss donating to charities, argue about different ones, donate less than we could, and then feel guilty about our own prosperity – the whole process becomes so unpleasantly self-conscious that we begin to avoid it. A lot of us went through a period as children when we got excited about giving money to the poor; then we realized that the hole we’re trying to fill is bottomless. And yeah: social service is like that. It’s bottomless. Need is never ending. Because of this, if we donate to charity with the idea of fixing things permanently, or to assuage some sense of guilt, our worry and shame in this case will only compound upon themselves. And the poor can’t fill their children’s stockings with middle-class guilt.
But seriously. Yes, it feels stupid to think that your two dollars will “make a difference in someone’s life”. Yes, even the bother of donating something is enough to keep our money in our pockets. Yes, it’s a little paralyzing to think of how much we’re giving versus how much we’re keeping and receiving. But seriously. Seriously – just stop analyzing your intentions and donate something. Suck up your self-conscious selves, do some research and deposit some money into your community. Something is better than nothing, but nothing will ever be enough, so don’t feel useless for donating a small amount and don’t feel too satisfied for donating a large amount. And don’t think you have to defend your decision not to donate anything, or fear that you donated less than you think other people think you could or should have, or avoid donating because of your qualms about your possibly selfish motivations — either write a check or don’t, and stop fretting about it so much.The reason I didn’t want to talk about donating to charity, especially during the Christmas season, is because it’s so often portrayed and spoken of as a thought-free, morally spotless, warm-fuzzy inducing act. A no-brainer. Nothing to fret over. It’s also often one of those things we try to exchange for middle-class guilt; we donate $50 to charity in order to feel free to spend hundreds (thousands) on ourselves and our family and friends without qualms.
The act of donating to charity is a pit of postmodern angst: it’s cliché, it breeds self-righteousness, it can make a student go crazy with self-consciousness and infinite reevaluations of our “real motivations,” and it can instill in us (alternately) a false sense of optimism or a nihilistic feeling of despair and ultimate uselessness (when the realization of the ratio between our donations and our own frivolous personal expenses sets in). It is not, by any means, a no-brainer.
Another problem with donating is that charities are confusing and sometimes we don’t agree with how they operate. We can look up budget reports all day and still not ever really know how charities and government organizations decide which families get turkeys. Also, religious NGOs may direct finances towards pro-life or anti-gay-rights legislation; secular charitable organizations might fund birth control distribution, military support, or homosexual rights. Odds are, you’re going to disagree with some practice of whatever organization you choose.
What I’m worried about is when the confusing details and qualms prevent or inhibit action; we discuss donating to charities, argue about different ones, donate less than we could, and then feel guilty about our own prosperity – the whole process becomes so unpleasantly self-conscious that we begin to avoid it. A lot of us went through a period as children when we got excited about giving money to the poor; then we realized that the hole we’re trying to fill is bottomless. And yeah: social service is like that. It’s bottomless. Need is never ending. Because of this, if we donate to charity with the idea of fixing things permanently, or to assuage some sense of guilt, our worry and shame in this case will only compound upon themselves. And the poor can’t fill their children’s stockings with middle-class guilt.
But seriously. Yes, it feels stupid to think that your two dollars will “make a difference in someone’s life”. Yes, even the bother of donating something is enough to keep our money in our pockets. Yes, it’s a little paralyzing to think of how much we’re giving versus how much we’re keeping and receiving. But seriously. Seriously – just stop analyzing your intentions and donate something. Suck up your self-conscious selves, do some research and deposit some money into your community. Something is better than nothing, but nothing will ever be enough, so don’t feel useless for donating a small amount and don’t feel too satisfied for donating a large amount. And don’t think you have to defend your decision not to donate anything, or fear that you donated less than you think other people think you could or should have, or avoid donating because of your qualms about your possibly selfish motivations — either write a check or don’t, and stop fretting about it so much.
Cue gasps of disbelief, wide-eyed incredulity, readers swooning in their seats. You read that right, this is a post that has the audacity to imply that there are aspects of the show Community that could be improved.
Before I begin, I sincerely hope that there are at least a few die-hard fans reading this. I realize that the show not being slotted for next year definitely has you in more sensitive a state than you normally would be, especially when shows of lesser quality (we’re all looking at you, Big Bang Theory) continue to stay on the air. I believe, however, that just because Community is a good show does not mean that it couldn’t be better (Dan Harmon forgive me).
A friend and I have been discussing the present season (which we are enjoying), and the news that NBC has announced about the show’s future has gotten us talking about what could make a good show even better. The list is as follows:
1)Bring Them Back to School
Let me be the first to say that I loved “Remedial Chaos Theory,” the episode with the seven alternate timelines. That being said, it also served as the third season’s segue to bring the study group out of Greendale.
Since then the episodes have been, at most, only loosely set at the college. “Horror Fiction In Seven Spooky Steps” had them telling tales à la The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror, the episode taking place more in their stories than in the study room they were actually in. “Advanced Gay” did a better job with Troy in the cafeteria and later in the bathroom with Jerry, the plumber, as well as having Pierce’s “Gay Bash” take place in the auditorium. “Documentary Filmmaking: Redux” is the Dean’s story, so while it took place in the college, it wasn’t ultimately about the group.
Of the nine episodes I’ve seen so far (being posted this morning, I haven’t yet seen tonight’s) a third of them take place largely outside of Greendale. Of the other six, there’s surprisingly little time devoted to actual schoolwork, which leads me to my next point:
2) Have a Little Class
As a college student I may have a slight bias towards the show to begin with. The show taking place in a college, and having its cast deal with assignments and projects and so on creates a lot of relatability which I’ve really appreciated in the past. “Remedial Chaos Theory” may have been my favourite episode, but by taking the study group out of the college it lost of of that familiarity I had with their lives.
Season 1 of Community is notable for Spanish 101, and the mystery and inscrutability of its Chinese professor, Señor Chang. Season 2 brought in Betty White as the Anthropology 101 professor (name on the show not included since no one remembers/cares). Both seasons had the characters being active within their respective classes well the halfway mark.
Season 3 didn’t beat around the bush and got right to it with “Biology 101,” introducing Michael K. Williams as Professor Marshall Kane. His being an ex-convict makes him a teacher who don’t take none, and it means Biology is a big contrast to classes the group has taken in the past.
Also, he’s really, really funny.
Ever since “Competitive Ecology,” the second episode of the season, we haven’t seen him, or his class again. If Community wants to introduce a new character (and one that has so much potential) it would be great to see them appear past the first two episodes.
3) Have Mercy on Ben Chang
For the majority of season 2 Community floundered with what exactly to do with Ben, no longer “señor,” Chang. He had sex with Shirley, squatted at Jeff’s apartment for a little while, and eventually began living at the college. Oh, and he was trying so, so hard to join the study group.
This season has him acting as a college security guard and, well, that’s about it. “Geography of Global Conflict” and “Competitive Ecology” are where we see him own his role as security enforcer, but after the second and third seasons he’s been making courtesy appearances at most.
I don’t know whether the show has gotten to the point where they can’t afford Ken Jeong any more, since he was in a few movies this year and maybe his pay rate rose a little. The fact is that he went from “What’s the show doing with him?” to “Where is he?” this season, and I think most Community members think back and miss the time when he was in a position of power above the group, and the ways he abused that power.
4) Where Are We Going?
Season 1 was about Jeff. He was the ex-lawyer and the tenuous glue of the group and we all knew him and Britta were going to shack up eventually. Season 2 had a pregnant Shirley and a strangely Bond-villainous Pierce.
Season 3, thus far, is about them moving out (and, consequently, on). Troy and Abed’s apartment has taken up two solid episodes (and a half) of this season, and while we all knew that if Community passed Season 4 that would be it for Greendale, I personally didn’t think this transition period would be so quick in coming. Dan Harmon has plans for the show post-college, but he’s moving his characters out a little too quickly. It would be nice if they could slow down a little, and explore the dark recesses of their campus before escaping into the real world.
Beyond that, I’m not really sure what this season is going for. There hasn’t really been a focus on any one character (though Troy’s plot between the forces of plumbing and air conditioner repair is riveting, to say the least). I love that the study group spends time together both in and out of campus, but we’re lacking that conflict that seemed pretty apparent in the past couple of seasons.
5) We Should See Other People
There’s a bit of overlap here with my first and second points, but here goes. The show has given us characters like Fat Neil, Vicky, Quendra, Leonard, Britta’s boyfriend with the tiny nipples, and, of course, Starburns. While they’ve been relegated to the backseat of the show for the most part, they’re a familiar cast in their own right and always a treat when given a bit of screentime.
The study group is what’s endeared us to Community, but their supporting cast is what’s added that extra dose of absurdity to their world, adding that surrealism that’s so characteristic of the show.
Closing Points
Community is a fantastic show, and easily one of my favourites on TV, NBC or otherwise. My worry is that the show is moving too quickly out of the college when there’s so much, still, that could be done. I’m as afraid of it not getting to its fourth season as anyone, but I don’t think that means it should be treating this season like its last.
Keep calm and carry on, is what I’d tell the writers. We’re all in it for the long haul, even if most of America isn’t. Give us the Season 3 you’d planned and live in the moment. I’d rather the perfect third season than one that steps around awkwardly, unsure if and when it’s getting pulled off the air.
LES MIS – it’s one of those things about which people who are familiar with it are very excited, and the rest of the world has no idea what it is or what is going on.
Info has been trickling into the internet for the past few months, and with any movie like this, people almost immediately get pretty rabid about the casting, so let’s muse over that for a while.
Hugh Jackman and Russel Crowe are to play Jean Valjean and Javert, respectively. This is so perfect that I have no snarky comment to make about it. I am so excited it makes me feel ill.
Geoffrey Rush will play Thenardier in the new Les Mis movie. Bizarrely, both of these pictures are of him.
Another illness-level-of-excitement-inducing thing: Geoffrey Rush will play Thenardier and will be terrifyingly perfect for the role. Rush was actually already in the crappily adapted 1998 movie(the one with Liam Neeson and Uma Thurman) as Javert, and he did a fine job (as he is a fine actor), but will be more impressive in a borderline caricature role like Thenardier, I think.
Mme. Thenardier will be played by Helena Bonham Carter. All right. Obviously. There is the risk that her in the role will be too similar to her Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd.
Helena Bonham Carter: beautiful enough for Hollywood, strange-looking enough for caricatures.
It already seems like all her as Mrs. Lovett would need to become Mme. Thenardier is a little less goth and worse teeth. She will be terrifying and beautiful, to be sure, but I don’t know if that’ll be super interesting at this point, weirdly. Helena Bonham Carter in The King’s Speech interests me more than another Helena Bonham Carter with eyeshadow sinking her cheekbones.
Anne Hathaway will be Fantine. This will make some people mad – especially considering the unexcited response to Alice in Wonderland. Amy Adams was purportedly also considered for the role, and it’s sort of surprising that she didn’t get it – she seems to be the new Anne Hathaway-type character, with more popular movies (to the younger crowd) lately. This could be good for Hathaway. It could also be bad for the movie. Maybe that’s just because I still define Anne Hathaway by The Princess Diaries.
A shortlist for the role of Eponine has been released, which includes Scarlett Johansson, Taylor Swift, Evan Rachel Wood, and Lea Michele. This is mildly worrisome – some of my reasons might be petty but still, worrisome. Eponine is about 15; Scarlett Johansson is 27 – and wouldn’t easily or believably look much younger (she’s usually made to look older than she is) (look at the woman’s body, for goodness’ sake). At the thought of Taylor Swift, a blonde country singer, being cast as the neglected and not-as-pretty-as-Cosette Eponine, rabid teenage musical theater buffs will gnash their teeth. Lea Michele reportedly “knocked it out of the park” at her audition – but I can’t see how Lea Michele could escape her role as the obnoxious and talented belting alto from Glee. Eponine being such a classic role does nothing to help that – it’s a role that Rachel from Glee would play. I do prefer Lea Michele in terms of her capability for annoyingness over the other 3; Eponine’s role is supposed to be tragic and self-pitying, not demure and victimized.
Eddie Redmayne in The Pillars of the Earth miniseries
Eddie Redmayne (Jack in the Pillars of the Earth Series) will be Marius; he will be appropriately annoyingly earnest and attractive.
They’re actually holding an open casting call for the role of Cosette in NYC. In the context of the rest of the cast, this obviously indicates the young, ingenue quality that the casting directors are looking for – an unknown talent (a la Robin Wright in The Princess Bride) in between Russell Crowe and Geoffrey Rush. It’s a pretty common take on Cosette – it might idealize the character a little too much, but that’s a large part of the novel itself.
Theater geeks are on the prowl as information comes out. There are rumors that the movie might be released in 2013, not 2012, as filming is expected to last through the summer.
What I’m nerdily looking forward to is seeing what they’re going to do with the accents – even though the film is set in France, the theater community is kind of used to hearing everything in cockney (as they all have the original London cast CD) – will they speak with an American accent? With a French accent (like the Russians speaking English with a Russian accent in K-19)? Or will they just throw some British accents in there to make it more foreign-seeming (like in the 1998 Les Miserables, The Prince of Persia, all of the Star Wars movies, Gladiator…)? So we’ll see what choice they make with that. One just hopes the singing will be good.
Film franchise reboots are certainly nothing new, and next summer’s The Amazing Spider-Man is sure to bring with it a certain amount of new flair to a familiar super-hero. More than just showing us a different kid in red and blue tights, this film is also an opportunity for us to see yet another (less well-known) Spidey villain: The Lizard.
Way back in July of this year io9 reported on a surprise viewing of the first Lizard clip, describing the character they saw:
…a giant beast, green with oversized arms, and a proportionally smaller head and enormous yellow eyes. He doesn’t have a crocodile head — more of a cross between a lizard and a human’s, with a flat nose, but a grotesque curled mouth.
This instantly drew criticism, and created the unanimous viewpoint that this sounded much more like a Goomba from the 1993 film Super Mario Bros. Yet another observation was that the design was much more reminiscent of the Batman villain Killer Croc.
As you can see in the image above, The Lizard has always had a more pointed snout, and looked generally more like, well, a lizard. The torn lab coat is also a trademark for the character, as well as purple pants [apparently he and The Hulk buy their clothes at the same place].
Yesterday the website spiderman.ru released concept art of the film’s Lizard, creating an uproar in internet comic circles. This is not at all what fans were expecting (even after the aforementioned description of the clip), and debates were sparked between Lizard apologists and Lizard die-hards.
I began sifting through the comments sections of blogs, as I am wont to do, and found an interesting disputation between two commenters on this article, with one commenter, Kitradu, stressing that actors wearing masks “should be able to act THROUGH their limitations, physical or mental.” He referenced Willem Defoe’s performance as the Green Goblin in the first Spider-Man movie as being captivating in spite of the helmet he wore which fully obscured his face.
His opponent, storymark, began the debate with the comment:
One of the big complaints about the Raimi movies, the first in particular, was that all the masks prevented any emoting. And very few actors would be interested in a role where their actual performance is obscured.
Personally, I think an expressionless face is boring as hell.
As far as evidence goes, I tend to side with Kitradu. He references V from V for Vendetta as well as Darth Vader in the original Star Wars films as characters that held our attention without us ever seeing their faces (save for that one scene in Return of the Jedi). Emotion is more easily portrayed through a humanoid face, but what does the design change mean as far as the abilities of the actor and our viewing abilities as an audience?
To be fair to storymark, The Lizard is a very different character from either of the examples he provided. He’s far more bestial, and, from what I remember, not particularly articulate. The motion capture that Rhys Ifans is doing may not allow him the freedom Hugo Weaving had behind the Guy Fawkes mask. Though, to refute my own point, this is something Andy Serkis had no problem doing in King Kong, or Rise of the Planet of the Apes. To counter that point, both Kong and Caesar have faces more similar to humans than reptiles.
All debate aside, it should be noted, as a potential last point for this post, that the character design for The Lizard is extremely similar to his original design by Steve Ditko. But maybe there’s a reason his look has changed in the comics we read today.
Hugo was another demonstration that a large part of Scorsese is dedicated to documentary. His movie plots rarely rely only on a simple story structure, but draw at truth about some world or society or person – in The Aviator, it was the telling of the life of Howard Hughes; in Kundun it was the exile of Dalai Lama Tenzin Gyatzo from India; In Shutter Island it was the mechanics of early 20th century mental health treatment. Scorsese has also made a fair share of documentaries, on topics like Italian cinema, The Rolling Stones, and Bob Dylan.
The film tells the story of early and revolutionary filmmaker Georges Melies
In Hugo, Scorsese tells the story of Georges Méliès and the beginning of filmmaking in general. At points the movie goes very far into documentary-land, like in the flashback/exposition which serves as the emotional denoument of the story, which rather adorably self-consciously begins with a full-on direct shot of Ben Kingsley’s face, and involves long clips of Méliès’ original film.
Scorsese uses archetype expertly well, wielding it like a tool and using structure as a support, not a creative hindrance. The plot devices are intentional, elegant, and familiar enough to be pleasant but done well enough to avoid the negative aspects of cliche: the plucky, adorable girl, the awkward side love story, the child-who-is-the-exception-to-the-rule, and the ultimately relatable and flawed authority figure whose villiany is centered on the fact that he does not notice that the child is the exception-to-the-rule [complete with semi-frightening animal companion, physical deformity, past pain, awkward love interest…].
Hugo and his father, who is briefly and attractively played by Jude Law
The aesthetic themes of the film, too, are constructed elegantly. Hugo is a boy who only sees the world through cracks and holes – through the numbers in the station clocks, through the holes in the vent windows, and through the metal grid of the automaton’s chest. He ultimately enters the world through these cracks, too, when he slips out of the vents or climbs out of the clock face to hang outside. Hugo’s relation to cracks and holes and small spaces mirrors Méliès’ relationship with the camera lens: he sees the world through a lens and ultimately enters it through the lens as well.
The film uses as sort of wheel spokes Hugo’s various relationships with the people surrounding him. The most obvious one is his father, and the automaton which connects them. There’s also, however, the fact that in a fit of frustration he flings himself into his degenerate uncle’s armchair; there’s the moment when the previously hostile bookseller (given gravitas by being played by Saruman) lends Hugo Robin Hood, and there’s Hugo’s emotional infiltration to Georges via Isabelle and Georges’ wife.
The film is ultimately a demonstration of developed connections and necessary maintenances, without which the characters would remain inoperable, like the broken automaton. The relationship aspect of Hugo includes Scorsese’s relationship with the film itself, and the thing reads like a love letter to filmmaking in general.
Worth noting:
Sacha Baron Cohen in Hugo
Sacha Baron Cohen is absolutely brilliant in his complex portrayal of a character which could very easily be buffooned.His stuttering speech is not quite ridiculous enough for us to laugh at, and it complements the familiar crippling self-consciousness that sort of oozes out of his character’s dialogue. He is a fool, but in a relatable sense. He is terribly awkward, but we cringe instead of laugh at his misfortunes. His air of self-confidence is quite transparent and allows us to see the very real human being underneath. Sacha Baron Cohen does excellently.
It seems kind of moot to point out that Ben Kingsley also does a tremendous job. The part spans a huge amount of time and character development, demanding that Kingsley not just play the secretive, intelligent, and broken older Méliès, but also the pre-war inspired artist, delivering platitudes to young boys while wearing a lobster costume. In Hugo, Ben Kingsley is everything that his part should be.
The aesthetics are another solid part of the film. Hugo is (and it does this wonderfully) a war-era film glazed in steam punk. The aesthetic is wrapped in gears, trains, skeleton keys, and old video cameras, and topped with flower sellers in berets and a reassuring sense of the fantastic – lovers of flim noir, steam punk, cyber punk and any aesthetically-intentional style may drool a little. I am unsure about how I feel about 3D – I am too poor and not interested enough to see the more expensive version of the movie – but the fact that directors like Scorsese and Jackson are using it is making me consider itmore carefully. I can at least see how the aesthetic would work well with the round, polished dimension that 3D movies have.
Hugo is a story and, if you Wikipedia Georges Méliès, a true one at that. Its comments on the changing public reception to fantasy and story telling are especially pertinent: the generation that grew up on ultra-ironic media like Shrek, The Office, and SNL are more often receiving stories told unapologetically, like Hugo and Avatar and Harry Potter, and it is interesting to see how we’ll react.
A 
Hugo was another demonstration that a large part of Scorsese is dedicated to documentary. His movie plots rarely rely only on a simple story structure, but draw at truth about some world or society or person – in The Aviator, it was the telling of the life of Howard Hughes; in Kundun it was the exile of Dalai Lama Tenzin Gyatzo from India; In Shutter Island it was the mechanics of early 20th century mental health treatment. Scorsese has also made a fair share of documentaries, on topics like 
reassuring sense of the fantastic – lovers of flim noir, steam punk, cyber punk and any aesthetically-intentional style may drool a little. I am unsure about how I feel about 3D – I am too poor and not interested enough to see the more expensive version of the movie – but the fact that directors like Scorsese and Jackson are using it is making me consider itmore carefully. I can at least see how the aesthetic would work well with the round, polished dimension that 3D movies have.
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