So I’ve been watching these parkour videos.
Storror’s the name of the group, a portmanteau of “style” and “horror” — like “steezin” — I assumed. Cool!
But nope — it’s just the middle name of two of the members. There are seven of them in total, plus a few satellite members and camera people. Brits, all — and total lads. Benj, Max, Toby, Sacha, Callum, Josh, Drew — together, they’re best friends and a team. A squad? Their fans are their army: Storror Army, as in, “Big ups, Storror Army.” They’re talking to me; I’ve enlisted.
I’ve been gradually re-watching Wes Anderson’s catalog this quarantine, and to gradually re-watch Wes Anderson’s catalog is to submit yourself to a flip-book of exquisitely rendered frames. Even just his most recent films (Isle of Dogs, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Moonrise Kingdom), contain a barrage of immaculately staged stills, any number of which are worth analyzing in their own right.
It may seem counterintuitive, then, to focus on a relatively uncharacteristic shot from Anderson’s vast collection. Towards the middle of his fourth film, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Pelé dos Santos — a Zissou crewmember with undefined responsibilities outside…
Your pretty standard Plano-to-NY boi, writing through it