The stage is a battleground. Four women and four men, swirling like wind-driven flames, embody the primal pull of sacrifice. Sophie Poulain, in her first season with the Atlanta Ballet, stands among them. On Feb. 7, at the Cobb Performing Arts Center, the audience watched Poulain — who spoke with the Technique a week earlier — fight through a role that demands not just technical mastery, but absolute surrender.

“The choreography itself is very physical,” she told the Technique. “I couldn’t do it halfway. You have to be 100% in to do it.” There is no half-measure in “The Rite of Spring.” It is a ballet of extremity, of exhaustion, of limbs flung beyond reason. Stravinsky’s score does not dance so much as convulse, and the bodies on stage responded in kind.

Poulain prepared for two roles — Woman 4 and the Sacrifice. “[It was] very interesting and challenging in a good way to be learning both roles,” she said. The Atlanta Ballet’s interpretation departs from the original: the Sacrifice does not submit. “She’s not going to go willingly,” Poulain explained. “She’s fighting it the whole time until the very, very end.” And the audience  saw it — the refusal, the struggle, the inevitable collapse.

Three to five hours of rehearsal each day carved this role into her body, but endurance alone does not make a dancer. Poulain carries a deep relationship with music. “For me, to know the music inside and out is the way that I can be most comfortable on stage. It’s like an anchor for me.” As a child, she played six different instruments. Now, that understanding manifests in movement, in the way she lets the music seep through her limbs, guiding her even when choreography demands she surrender to chaos.

Her journey to this stage began at 13 when she moved to Toronto to train at Canada’s National Ballet School, an institution as rigorous as it sounds. “Instead of just changing myself to fit in a box, it was more like finding how things can work in my own way,” she reflected. The ballet world is a paradox: it demands uniformity, yet its greatest artists carve out something singular.

She credits much of her development to her coach, Magaly Suarez. “I met her when I was 14 or 15, and she sort of took me under her wing and taught me everything that I know today.” Even during COVID, when Poulain was in Amsterdam and forced to return home, she trained with Suarez over Zoom for six hours a day. “We call it the Magaly magic,” she said. “She understands people so well and cares about them so much. She just has a way of telling them exactly what they need to hear to help them grow and develop as dancers and artists.”

Ballet relies on foundations as much as it does on flight. Poulain, aware of this, offered advice to young dancers: “Find a coach and teacher who has a good track record, someone who has trained students that have gone on to have success. Because when you’re a student, building a strong foundation in technique is so important.” But beyond technique, she emphasized the need for a mentor who sees the dancer as an individual. “That makes all the difference, especially when you’re young and maybe not so sure of yourself. It’s so important to have a teacher that believes in you and wants to bring out the best in you.”

The Atlanta Ballet has given her that same sense of belonging. “It’s my first season, and I think there’s a really good company culture here, especially among the dancers. There’s a lot of camaraderie, and I think people are pretty open as well. That camaraderie among dancers in a company can make or break a company, really, in my experience.”

As the final notes of Stravinsky’s score crashed into silence, Poulain and her fellow dancers stood panting in the aftershock. The Sacrifice had been made, but she had not gone quietly. She had fought, flailed, resisted — and ultimately, she had given everything.

Later, reflecting on why she endures this grueling art, she said simply, “I think that when you are doing something that you love so much, like I am really so passionate about what I do, it’s rewarding every day in a new way, which is cool.” Passion is often mistaken for ease. But as the audience watched Sophie Poulain on that stage, they saw what it truly is: a battle, a devotion, a relentless, exquisite sacrifice.

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On Jan. 31, Tech’s campus pulsed with the energy of tradition and renewal as students gathered to celebrate Lunar New Year. The holiday, observed by millions worldwide, is more than a date on the calendar — it is a passage, a reminder that time does not simply march forward but folds over itself in cycles. This year, the cycle ushered in the Year of the Snake, a symbol of intelligence, transformation and resilience.

At the Exhibition Hall, the Society of Asian Scientists and Engineers (SASE) hosted an early evening celebration where students tried their hands at Chinese calligraphy, savoring the careful brushstrokes that have carried meaning for centuries. They played traditional games, tasted symbolic dishes and, perhaps without realizing it, engaged in something essential: the act of learning through experience. For those unfamiliar with Lunar New Year customs, the event was an invitation to step into a history that, while not their own, was generously shared.

Later, the Chinese Students and Scholars Association (CSSA) filled the Ferst Center for the Arts with music, movement and a sense of home. Their Spring Festival Gala unfolded in a series of performances — from crosstalk comedy to intricate dance routines — each one a thread in the fabric of cultural storytelling. The night’s performances were steeped in tradition, from comedic crosstalk to elegantly choreographed dances. As the event concluded, attendees received complimentary milk tea, a gesture that rounded out the evening with a taste of familiarity and comfort.

Lunar New Year is not a holiday of nostalgia; it is one of renewal. Rooted in the lunisolar calendar, it follows the cycles of the moon, marking a time to honor ancestors, cast out misfortune, and welcome prosperity. It is a moment of transition when red envelopes, carrying gifts of money, change hands, and homes are adorned with banners of calligraphed blessings. The Year of the Snake, characterized by wisdom and calculated action, aligns fittingly with Tech students, who understand the weight of strategy, the necessity of adaptation and the quiet resilience it takes to move forward. The snake, in Chinese mythology, is neither villain nor victim — it is a creature of intellect, patience, and stealth. Those born under its sign are said to possess a keen analytical mind, qualities that feel at home at Tech, where innovation thrives in the shadows of deep thinking and quiet problem-solving.

Multicultural events like these are more than celebrations; they are acts of recognition. At Tech, where innovation is paramount, it is easy to believe that progress is built only on new ideas. But culture, history and tradition remind us that the past is not something to be discarded — it is something to be understood. In acknowledging the Lunar New Year, Tech recognizes that progress does not happen in isolation. It happens in dialogue, in shared experiences, in moments where history and future collide in a room filled with music, laughter and the scent of something familiar.

As students filtered out of the Ferst Center, the night lingered — not just in memory, but in something deeper. For some, it was a reminder of home, of family celebrations an ocean away. For others, it was a newfound appreciation for a tradition they had only known from the periphery. And for all, it was a testament to the ways in which Tech does not simply house a diverse student body but allows its cultures to breathe and be seen.

For those who attended, the night was not just about spectacle but about connection. And as the Year of the Snake unfolds, perhaps its greatest lesson is this: transformation is never abrupt. It is a slow, deliberate process, one that values both the past and the future, understanding that one cannot exist without the other. And in that understanding, there is something powerful — a recognition that the strongest bridges are built not just between disciplines and innovations but between people, between cultures, between histories that, at first glance, may seem separate but, upon closer look, are intertwined.

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If “Heart Eyes” were a Valentine’s Day card, it would be scrawled in jagged black ink with a deep red smear in the corner. It’s as though someone took a rom-com, gutted it, and left the viscera on full display for the viewer to admire. Produced by the team behind “Scream,” the film masterfully treads the thin line between laughter and dread, pulling the viewer into a whirlwind of uncomfortable romantic tension, bloodied jump scares and razor-sharp wit.

“A comical yet mostly horrifying film,” says Nicole Botha, an Emory student, summing up the unpredictable essence of “Heart Eyes” in one perfect sentence. The film delivers both biting humor and heart-pounding thrills, while also making the viewer uneasy with its unrelenting mix of romance and terror. If you can imagine “Mr. & Mrs. Smith” injected with a healthy dose of “Scream” self-aware slasher energy, you might have a rough idea of what’s in store.

At its core, “Heart Eyes” is a horror movie about a killer who hunts couples on Valentine’s Day, placing it squarely in the niche subgenre of holiday-themed horror. The plot follows Ally (Olivia Holt) and Jay (Theo James), two marketing employees forced to work together on a Valentine’s Day project. What begins as a forced dinner meeting quickly escalates into a deadly game of survival when they realize the masked killer is targeting couples — and they’re next on the list.

Olivia Holt, best known for her Disney Channel past, steps away from her squeaky-clean roles with a performance that will make you reconsider her range. Her portrayal of Ally is a revelation: sophisticated, tense and unafraid to confront her character’s emotional vulnerability. This is a far cry from her past on-screen personas, yet she handles the switch with alarming ease. She’s not just a terrified woman running for her life; she’s a woman discovering her own strength and resilience in the face of absolute horror.

Theo James, playing the level-headed Jay, complements her perfectly. His presence is grounded, offering stability against the chaos surrounding them. But as the night spirals further into madness, the chemistry between them shifts from awkward forced collaboration to something darker, more complex. This transition is not only central to the film’s tension but also forms the heart of the story.

Jordana Brewster shines in a smaller yet significant role as Madison, a character with ties to the killer’s past who may prove to be an ally — or another threat. Brewster’s portrayal recalls her role in “D.E.B.S.,” where she balanced sweetness and danger with precision. She does the same here, keeping the audience on edge as they question whether Madison can be trusted or if her motives lie somewhere more sinister.

What makes “Heart Eyes” so striking is its ability to balance both horror and romance, often with a wicked sense of humor that catches you off guard. The killers’ motives — while tied to the predictable trope of holiday murders — are layered with more complexity than expected. The film’s genre-bending approach lets it seamlessly transition from lighthearted moments to spine-chilling scenes of terror, often in the same breath. Director Jennifer Reeder, known for her work on “The Scary of Sixty-First,” injects the film with a distinctive style that plays with genre conventions while crafting a unique atmosphere of discomfort. “Heart Eyes” dares you to laugh and recoil simultaneously, a feat few films can achieve.

As the story progresses, “Heart Eyes” forces its characters — and the audience — to confront the darker edges of desire and attachment. In a film where love and violence exist on the same spectrum, it makes you question the very nature of both. Reeder doesn’t just deliver on the expected scares; she digs deeper, exploring how attraction, manipulation and fear can entwine in the most unexpected ways.

The pacing of “Heart Eyes” is swift, never allowing the tension to ease. Every twist, every jump scare, feels earned. The horror elements are familiar — masked killers, ominous phone calls and blood-soaked confrontations — but it’s the way the film plays with these tropes that keeps the audience on their toes. The script knows when to pause for humor and when to inject sheer terror, maintaining a frenetic balance that leaves you breathless.

Perhaps the film’s most shocking success is how it fuses humor and horror without ever feeling forced. The dark comedic moments come with the kind of dry delivery that feels earned, not gratuitous. The characters mock their dire circumstances, but the laughter never quite takes away from the fear. As Ally and Jay are chased through the night, evading death, the film pulls back from the horror just long enough for us to catch our breath — before plunging us back into the chaos.

In the end, “Heart Eyes” is an intoxicating blend of blood, laughter and romance. It’s both absurd and deeply unsettling, a film that challenges its audience to reconcile the unspoken horror hiding behind a holiday of love.

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070 Shake’s postponed concert had the potential to fizzle out before it even began. January’s weather had iced over the original date, and with it, the chance for a seamless night of music. Yet, as fans crammed into the Eastern on Jan. 22, the air felt sharper, hungrier: like a collective exhale was finally due.

Opening the night, Johan Lenox set the tone with an avant-garde blend of live strings and electronic loops. A violinist and cellist sight-read his compositions onstage, their unfamiliarity lending the performance an edge of spontaneity. Lenox’s use of a loop pedal to build soundscapes was hypnotic — layer upon layer creating something fragile but determined. His set could have been chaotic, but instead, it was an act of balance, each sound woven with intent and reminiscent of the loop pedals used by Billie Eilish. 

Following Lenox, Bryant Barnes took the stage, his energy a stark contrast to the opener’s introspection. With a kinetic performance that demanded attention, Barnes infused the room with rhythm, sending the crowd into a collective sway. His grooves felt like a heartbeat pushing the night forward, an irresistible momentum that bridged the space between anticipation and arrival.

When 070 Shake finally emerged, the crowd’s energy remained focused. Clad in muted earth tones, she commanded attention with a subtlety that proved more powerful than theatrics. Opening with “Elephant,” she didn’t ease into the performance — she pulled the audience in immediately, her voice cutting through the space with an aching clarity.

Shake’s performance was not just a concert but a study in contrast. Tracks like “Cocoon” held the audience in a vulnerable stillness, while fan favorites like “Guilty Conscience” erupted with communal catharsis. Her seamless transitions between genres — rap, electronic and the deeply introspective — felt like conversations between polarities: grit and grace, doubt and defiance.

“Glitter” shimmered with a hypnotic pulse, its electronic undercurrents anchoring her ethereal vocals. “Winter Baby/New Jersey Blues” carried a wistful intimacy; the crowd collectively sang with reverence, her music transcending entertainment to touch something more visceral, more human.

By the time she reached “Battlefield,” the energy was electric. The room pulsed, bodies jumping up and down as if caught in the same rhythm. And when the final notes of “Violent Crimes” echoed through the venue, it wasn’t just applause that followed — it was a collective silence, the kind that lingers when something extraordinary has ended.

070 Shake doesn’t simply perform; she excavates. Her music asks questions that resist answers, offering moments of clarity only to twist them into something more complicated. At the Eastern, she turned the stage into a space for intimacy, experimentation and release. Concertgoers came looking for a show but left with something closer to communion. In the end, the vibe of the room shifted from infrequent listeners to dedicated fans.

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On Tuesday, Nov. 5, something unusual happened — I felt an itch of curiosity to click on a Facebook ad. Typically, I scroll past these things, wary of their intentions. I wouldn’t put it past me to fall for a pyramid scheme, honestly. But something about this ad felt different — it advertised “Poetic License,” a film directed by Maude Apatow, starring Leslie Mann and Andrew Barth Feldman. If those names don’t ring bells, just know this: each of them holds their own in Hollywood, bringing talent and passion to the work.

Two days after applying, a text pinged my phone at 8 a.m., asking for a “rush call.” With just two hours to get to Agnes Scott College, I faced a decision: skip my classes to play the role of a college student or stick to my routine. It took less than a second to choose the adventure, and I stepped onto the set without regret.

Being on set with Maude Apatow felt surreal. Apatow played Lexi in “Euphoria,” a show that, in my view, stands as one of the most visually compelling productions on television. I even wrote my senior thesis on it in high school, analyzing the program’s layers of artistry and meaning. Watching Apatow direct scenes up close felt like seeing my thesis come to life, as I connected with someone whose work I had long admired. “Euphoria’s” layered characters, haunting cinematography and unique aesthetic sparked something in me, showing me the ways media can shape us. To see Apatow — who once brought Lexi’s intricate character to life — now directing her own creative vision added a powerful and personal connection to my experience.

With zero acting experience, I didn’t expect the level of precision that goes into “extra” work. I assumed extras just blended into the background without much thought. Yet, in every scene, each extra received guidance — gestures, cues, placements — that felt surprisingly intentional. We served not as faceless fillers but as part of the visual rhythm, enhancing the leads’ performances. When I brushed past Andrew Barth Feldman in a scene, excitement flooded me, and I admit, I caught myself staring more than once as Apatow fine-tuned the shots, bringing “Poetic License” to life, frame by frame.

The people I met among the extras quickly made the day unique. Professional actors, students from Tech, Georgia State and Agnes Scott, models with perfectly smudged makeup and distinct poise, and even a tech worker on a whim — all brought creative energy to our group. We swapped stories, ambitions and bits of advice, creating camaraderie that made the long hours feel light. I had expected to play a small role in the film’s backdrop, but I found myself surrounded by individuals who reminded me why art in all forms pulls people together. The diversity of their stories, talents and dreams was a revelation in itself.

A small role, after all, can lead to unexpected places. Matthew McConaughey, one of Hollywood’s most recognizable actors, started as a film extra. He caught the attention of a casting director, which led to his breakout in “Dazed and Confused.” “Alright, alright, alright” was born, and the rest is history. You never know who might notice you, even if you’re at the edge of the scene. While I may not aspire to fame, the idea that a chance encounter could change everything — even for an extra — adds an element of possibility that makes these experiences more than worth it.

Watching the actors and crew work together, I thought about my own aspirations. In the future, I hope to work with creatives, perhaps as an entertainment lawyer representing actors, musicians and authors, or by working directly in the industry myself. Seeing the collaborative effort behind each scene fueled that desire. The film industry — like any artistic field — depends on a blend of vision and expertise, spontaneity and planning. Every lighting adjustment, camera angle and actor’s gesture worked in harmony, each person giving their best to create something larger than any one role.

Being on set taught me the intricate dance of film production. I watched the crew tweaking every detail with a blend of rigor and artistry, each person focused yet fluid. The hours passed slowly, one detail blurring into the next, yet I felt present in a way that transcended routine. I began to notice how each element served a purpose, shaping our scenes into something that would later seem effortless. I realized that even if I never work on a film set again, the experience offered a perspective that transcends the screen. It showed me the world of those who create, collaborate and labor behind the scenes, in the often-unseen realms of art and storytelling.

To anyone considering a leap into the film world, even for just a day, I say take it. Playing a film extra won’t make you famous. But it will give you access to a world of collective creativity. You’ll gain something too few college experiences offer: the chance to be both visible and invisible in a work of art, to step outside your own narrative and into something larger.

The post Contributing to cinema: my role as a movie extra appeared first on Technique.

Tech’s women’s basketball team set an electrifying tone for the season, overwhelming the Winthrop Eagles with an 85-39 victory in their home opener. In front of an energetic crowd at McCamish Pavilion, the Jackets displayed a harmonious blend of sharp offense, relentless defense and exceptional teamwork, offering a glimpse into the team’s potential this season.

Right from the tip-off, freshman guard Tonie Morgan wasted no time getting Tech on the scoreboard, laying it up with an assist from junior guard Kara Dunn just seconds into the game. This opening play marked the start of what would become an unstoppable 8-0 run, with Morgan scoring twice in the first minute and a half, and sophomore guard Inés Noguero seizing back-to-back steals, further emphasizing the team’s defensive tenacity.

In an action-packed first quarter, Tech’s swift and seamless ball movement allowed players to capitalize on Winthrop’s early turnovers. Noguero added a layup after a steal at 8:58, highlighting her agility and quick decision-making, while Morgan continued to control the tempo, adding another layup less than a minute later. Winthrop struggled to find a response, scoring only sporadically throughout the quarter.

The dynamic play from sophomore center Ariadna Termis and Dunn fortified the Jackets’ early lead. Termis grabbed a crucial offensive rebound and quickly put it back with a jumper, bringing the score to 10-2. Winthrop’s efforts to catch up were stymied by relentless defensive pressure. Fifth-year guard Zoesha Smith made her presence felt on the defensive end with a steal that led to a three-pointer from freshman guard Chazadi Wright at 6:45, bringing the Tech lead to 13-4.

By the end of the quarter, the Jackets had amassed a solid 26-12 lead, showcasing versatility in scoring and a defense that denied Winthrop any consistent offensive rhythm. This play-by-play dominance reflected Coach Nell Fortner’s preparation, as Tech’s players seemed to operate as extensions of one another, intuitively moving into position to assist, rebound, or steal as needed.

Throughout the game, freshman guard Dani Carnegie emerged as a key player, totaling a team-high 17 points. Her prowess from beyond the arc was particularly crucial, especially during Tech’s 15-0 third-quarter run, which essentially sealed the game. Morgan, who contributed 15 points, shined not only as a scorer but also as a playmaker. She provided multiple assists, often setting up Termis and Carnegie in critical moments. Tech’s 25 assists on 35 field goals underscored the team’s selflessness and commitment to finding the best shot possible, which kept Winthrop’s defense perpetually off-balance.

The second half only magnified the Jackets’ control, as they extended their lead through consistent outside shooting and powerful inside play. Tech hit 53.8% from the field, a testament to their efficiency, while holding Winthrop to a stifling 34% shooting. This defensive lock forced Winthrop to rely on low-percentage shots and, notably, they missed all ten of their attempts from beyond the arc. The Jackets’ complete shutout from three-point range was an impressive feat, reflecting their tight rotations and perimeter pressure.

The Jackets’ success extended beyond shooting stats and scoring runs. Their rebounding was equally impressive, outpacing Winthrop 38-23, and securing crucial second-chance points. Both Termis and Noguero stepped up in this regard, with Termis delivering key rebounds that fueled fast-break opportunities. Every loose ball and rebound seemed to find its way into the hands of a Jacket, providing a steady rhythm that Winthrop struggled to disrupt.

The impact of Tech’s defensive pressure became increasingly apparent as they turned 22 Winthrop turnovers into 25 points. Each misstep by Winthrop quickly morphed into a scoring opportunity for the Jackets, often with Morgan or Noguero on the receiving end. As Winthrop’s frustration mounted, Tech’s composure only strengthened, with the Jackets capitalizing on every opportunity to extend their lead.

In the final moments, the crowd’s cheers reached a crescendo as Fortner’s team continued to outscore their opponent. When Carnegie and Morgan buried consecutive three-pointers in the third period, the Jackets’ lead ballooned, and the outcome became undeniable.

This dominant season opener signals a promising trajectory for Georgia Tech women’s basketball. Fortner’s lineup, brimming with talent and discipline, offers a blend of seasoned players and promising newcomers. The cohesion between players like Carnegie, Morgan and Noguero speaks to a chemistry rarely seen this early in a season. The Jackets look poised not only to contend within the ACC but to redefine the pace and power of women’s basketball at Tech.

As they prepare for the next set of challenges, the Jackets have already made a statement: they are a team to watch, a team ready to redefine success through the strength of their unity, precision, and grit. And while this win was impressive in itself, it may well be the foundation of a remarkable season ahead.

The post Georgia Tech Women’s Basketball Opens Season with Commanding Win appeared first on Technique.

There’s a quiet magic in befriending a freshman, where their uncharted journey can breathe new life into your own college experience. There is something valuable about connecting with people at the beginning of a new chapter in life, whether it is starting a sport, a job, or, in this case, college. Freshmen walk on campus with unclouded eyes, free from the weight of expectations. As a sophomore, I find meaning in bridging the gap between what they are about to experience and what I have already learned.

It all began in Aug. 2024 at the start of the fall semester. I hosted a small birthday party with friends from high school and college at my apartment. Everything felt preordained, the night moved along familiar currents, until two strangers entered, uninvited yet welcomed. Freshmen, friends of a friend, were not part of the plan but became woven into it nonetheless. My freshman friend from high school brought along her new college friends, and none of us could have predicted how much they would become a part of our lives.

This marked the beginning of a relationship with whom we now call our “adopted freshmen.” My high school friend, who was in computer science with my roommate, began visiting more frequently. What started as study sessions turned into something more — something we began to anticipate. It was not just casual hangouts anymore; it felt more like family.

Soon after, we established weekly “freshman dinners.” These gatherings became a tradition, giving the freshmen a chance to enjoy home-cooked meals and relax outside their dorms. It was not just about the food; it was about creating a space where they felt welcomed, a place that offered comfort and conversation outside the usual stress of college life. Something as simple as preparing a meal together made our apartment feel like home.

Freshmen bring a certain energy with them. Everything is new — classes, living independently and navigating adulthood. It is easy to forget how overwhelming that can be. I remember my freshman year, full of nerves and uncertainty but also bursting with the excitement of endless possibilities. I was fortunate enough to have upperclassmen who helped me through those early days, offering advice, reassurance and friendship.

Now, I find myself in their shoes. But it is not about dispensing wisdom from a higher position. It is about walking alongside these freshmen, sharing in their confusion, excitement and discovery. Freshmen remind me to look at college with fresh eyes again, to see the wonder in the little things I may have grown accustomed to.

In return, we offer them pieces of ourselves. We share stories about the classes that nearly broke us, the friendships that came and went, and the nights spent worrying over things that seem insignificant now. They listen intently; sometimes, they carry those stories with them, using them as they navigate their own paths. But the real value lies in listening to their stories and witnessing their growth.

The freshmen I met that night, wide-eyed and uncertain, now walk into our apartment with confidence and their own stories to tell. They no longer need us the way they once did, and that is how it should be. We served as a bridge for them, and now they are finding their way on their own. There is a quiet pride in knowing that we played a small role in their journey.

But what do sophomores gain from this experience? The answer is simple: we grow too. We learn to listen more carefully, to offer support without overshadowing and to guide without expecting anything in return. In helping freshmen find their way, we rediscover pieces of ourselves that we may have lost in the routine of college life.

Adopting a freshman is not just about helping them through their first year. It is a way for us to rediscover our own path by seeing the world through their eyes. College can feel stressful and chaotic, but freshmen remind us of the excitement and potential that drew us here in the first place.

If the opportunity arises to “adopt” a freshman, seize it. Not just for them, but for yourself. In their journey, you may find a reflection of who you once were, and perhaps a glimpse of who you still aspire to be.

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The portrayal of lesbian and gay relationships in cinema often reveals deep-rooted societal perceptions and biases that extend beyond mere storytelling. Films featuring lesbian characters frequently navigate a landscape where their identities are fetishized or sensationalized, reducing complex individuals to mere spectacles for the male gaze. The representation in films such as “But I’m a Cheerleader” and “D.E.B.S.” flirts with playful tones, but this levity often disguises a troubling implication: the insistence on lesbian relationships existing primarily for the titillation of others. The notion that these films can treat such relationships as lighthearted adventures risks diminishing the genuine emotional and personal struggles involved in self-discovery and societal acceptance.

Conversely, gay films like “Moonlight” and “Brokeback Mountain” grapple with the intricacies of masculinity and societal expectations, often presenting male relationships as poignant yet tragic narratives. While these films do delve into the emotional turmoil faced by their protagonists, there exists an almost sentimental softness that can lead to the perception of gay men as “teddy bear” figures — approachable, non-threatening, and inherently sympathetic. While often intended to evoke compassion, such portrayals can inadvertently flatten the complexities of male intimacy, framing it within a narrow spectrum of acceptable emotionality.

My favorite lesbian film, “Portrait of a Lady on Fire,” offers a profound exploration of love that transcends the constraints of time and space. Set against the backdrop of an 18th-century castle, the film employs lighting techniques that reflect the emotional states of its characters, enhancing its visual poetry. However, a closer examination reveals gaps in the portrayal of intimacy. Audiences must consider whether the emotional depth depicted resonates authentically or mainly serves to enhance the film’s aesthetic appeal to viewers who may not share the same experiences. While the relationship is undeniably passionate and transformative, it unfolds within a historical context that tends to commodify the female experience through societal expectations of romance. By framing the love story this way, the film invites viewers — especially those from traditional backgrounds — to engage with the characters’ longing and connection. Yet, this framing risks reducing their experiences to romanticized ideals, ultimately overshadowing the authenticity of their love.

When I was younger, desperately seeking representation that spoke to me in some form or fashion, I remember gaining a fascination with “Pretty Little Liars.” Emily Fields, a lesbian character, takes viewers through a plausible journey (or at least a journey similar to mine) of coming to terms with her sexuality and identity. Although the series is entirely fictional, I had no real-life queer mentors to get advice from when going through my journey. I felt that Emily was the representation and example I needed to figure out who I was and grow as a person. Much like me, she carried apprehension when coming out to herself and her family, uncertain of the outcome of her actions. However, as the series progresses, she develops into a confident, strong woman secure in her identity and self. I looked up to her for these reasons and applaud the series writers for this work. 

The idealization of celebrities, films, songs and even people in our lives is something we need to sit with and reflect upon. The above films are my personal favorites, and I have found a connection to the protagonists’ stories. However, narratives seen in the media proliferate into how we behave and think in real life. As audiences engage with these narratives, it is essential to approach them with a critical eye, questioning the underlying messages and representations. While sentimentality can enrich a story, it must not overshadow the realities of the individuals and communities depicted. 

The journey toward genuine understanding and representation demands a conscientious effort to highlight the lived experiences behind the screen — experiences filled with struggle, resilience, love, and a sense of belonging. It requires a commitment to portraying not just the triumphs but also the hardships faced by LGBTQ+ individuals in a way that respects their authenticity and complexity. Unfortunately, this is an effort that today’s filmmaking industry often lacks, with many narratives still reduced to stereotypes or shaped by external expectations instead of presenting the full spectrum of humanity that these stories deserve.

The post The Double-Edged Sword of LGBTQ+ Film appeared first on Technique.

For my grandparents, it’s a picture show, to my parents, the theater, and to me, just the movies. These terms reflect not just a place but a shared experience that has shaped the understanding of storytelling and cultural immersion for generations. Despite claims that streaming services like Netflix, Hulu, Max and Amazon Prime Video are sounding the death knell for cinema, I find myself drawn to a different perspective — viewing these platforms as catalysts for evolution rather than agents of decline.

Take, for example, “Euphoria” and “Marriage Story” — two standout productions that exemplify the transformative potential of streaming platforms. With its bold cinematography and narrative experimentation under showrunner Sam Levinson, “Euphoria” challenges traditional storytelling norms. It boasts longer narrative arcs that delve deeper into character development, giving viewers a holistic view of characters. I remember feeling sympathy for and aversion towards characters all at once because of how well-developed the storyline is. 

Scarlet Johansson and Adam Driver’s performances in “Marriage Story” similarly showcase the emotional depth and intimacy that streaming platforms can foster. I don’t know how these actors could create a movie that is hilarious, soul-piercing, and frustrating at once. These are not just films; they are experiences that linger in the mind, sparking conversations and reflections long after the screen goes dark.

Beyond individual successes, streaming services play a pivotal role in diversifying cinematic offerings. They provide a platform for stories that might otherwise struggle to find an audience in the competitive world of traditional theaters. Think of the docuseries that brought attention to topics not covered in box office movies: “Don’t F**k with Cats,” “Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes” and “Jeffrey Epstein: Filthy Rich.” 

This democratization of access ensures that diverse narratives, from indie gems to international sensations, can flourish and find their audience without the constraints of box office expectations.Moreover, streaming platforms serve as incubators for emerging filmmakers and voices. They offer a supportive environment where creativity thrives, free from the pressures of traditional studio gatekeeping. This nurturing ecosystem encourages risk-taking and innovation, pushing the boundaries of what cinema can achieve. It is a space where new talents can bloom, enriching the artistic landscape with fresh perspectives and untold stories.

Critics of streaming often lament the decline in theater attendance and box office revenues. While these concerns are valid, they overlook the broader cultural impact and viewer engagement facilitated by streaming services. Interactive features, behind-the-scenes content, and instant accessibility enhance the viewing experience, transforming passive consumption into active participation. Streaming platforms foster a dynamic dialogue between creators and audiences, enriching the cultural discourse surrounding film.

As I reflect on my cinematic journey, from childhood outings to the movie theater to evenings spent streaming movies at home, I recognize that cinema is not dying — it is evolving. The rise of streaming services has expanded the canvas on which stories are told, inviting viewers into a world of limitless possibilities. Whether experienced in a darkened theater or a cozy living room, cinema continues to captivate and inspire, bridging generations and cultures through the universal language of storytelling.

Streaming services also redefine the concept of film accessibility. No longer confined to scheduled showtimes or limited screenings, audiences now have the freedom to explore a vast library of content at their convenience. This accessibility broadens the audience base and encourages the exploration of genres and styles that may have been overlooked in traditional theatrical releases. It empowers viewers to curate their own cinematic experiences. 

The streaming era encourages experimentation and risk-taking among filmmakers. With fewer financial barriers and greater creative freedom, directors and writers are encouraged to explore unconventional narratives and cinematic techniques. This creative liberation fosters innovation, pushing the boundaries of visual storytelling and challenging audiences to engage with narratives in new and unexpected ways.

Despite these advancements, the debate over streaming versus traditional cinema often centers on the theatrical experience. The communal aspect of watching a film in a theater, surrounded by fellow moviegoers, enveloped in larger-than-life visuals, and immersed in collective reactions, is a unique and irreplaceable experience. Streaming services, however, complement rather than compete with this experience. They offer alternatives for viewers who may prefer the comfort and convenience of home viewing without diminishing the allure
of the cinematic spectacle.

In essence, the evolution of cinema through streaming services is a testament to its resilience and adaptability. It thrives not by erasing the past but by embracing new technologies and viewer behaviors. As we navigate this transformative era, one thing remains clear: cinema, in all its forms, continues to captivate and inspire, resonating deeply with audiences across the globe. Cinema’s essence lies not in where it’s viewed but in the power of the stories it tells and the emotions it evokes. Embrace the evolution, celebrate the diversity, and cherish the magic of cinema in all its forms.

The post Streaming services are revitalizing, not killing cinema appeared first on Technique.

Greek life, a college subculture steeped in collegiate tradition, has historically boasted exclusivity, elitism, and strict adherence to gender norms. While these characteristics may have persisted in the past and still echo at other institutions, I confidently dispel these notions within the Tech community. My sisters in Alpha Chi Omega (AXO) and fellow Collegiate Panhellenic Council (CPC) members embraced my sexuality without hesitation, affirming my identity and place within Greek life.

Let me take you back to formal recruitment week in August 2023. Upon arriving at Tech’s campus and settling into my Towers dorm room, a blend of excitement and trepidation coursed through me. I adamantly believed that the label “sister” would never grace my name. Yet, in a city where unfamiliarity enveloped me, I hungered for connections with fellow first-years, making rush an enticing path.

Gathering with my recruitment group on that first day, I admired the array of girls, each with diverse personalities and backgrounds, yet I hesitated to reveal my true self. Our recruitment counselors (RCs) urged us to “embrace our values,” assuring us that not fitting into a particular house didn’t diminish our worth. I presented myself naturally to these sororities, but I still harbored an air of imposter syndrome. Midway through the week, exhaustion and doubt clouded my spirits. Would these houses accept me if they knew I was queer? I clung to stereotypes of what a sorority girl should embody, grappling with self-doubt until a pivotal moment.

In a quiet conversation with one of my RCs, I disclosed my sexuality. Her response resonated more deeply than she could know, offering a glimmer of acceptance that redirected my college journey. She illuminated the possibility of forging genuine connections through the recruitment process and beyond. Ultimately accepting a bid from Alpha Chi Omega, I now view joining Greek life as one of my most transformative decisions. The bonds I share with my sisters in AXO transcend mere friendship; they are my chosen family.

Attending my first Pride event with my AXO sisters marked a profound shift. Hailing from south Georgia, where Pride was an unfamiliar concept often met with resistance, I had concealed this aspect of myself during high school to avoid judgment. Within months at Tech, my sisters embraced and uplifted me. Witnessing the parade, surrounded by those who not only accepted but celebrated love, was a cathartic experience — an affirmation I longed for but never dared to imagine.

Our events such as semi-formal, formal and date nights welcome people of all genders and backgrounds, which is refreshingly unique. Reflecting on high school, I felt immense pressure to take a man as a date to homecoming and prom. Taking a woman was never an option, and AXO does an excellent job of supporting people like me who do not fit into a heteronormative image. My-Tie, a popular date night event at SEC schools, does not find a place in our sorority’s agenda; many CPC organizations at Tech recognize that this event may reinforce heteronormative standards and detract from supporting all members. I applaud and appreciate Greek life’s movement toward a more inclusive environment.

For LGBTQIA+ individuals navigating or considering Greek life, these stigmas can create a double bind. The tension between personal identity and Greek norms can foster isolation and invisibility, fueling fears of rejection from both Greek peers and LGBTQIA+ communities alike. Despite these challenges, my journey within AXO has revealed a community evolving to embrace diversity and amplify voices once marginalized.

If this article leaves you with anything, let it be this: love loudly and unconditionally, defying boundaries and stereotypes. Through acceptance and celebration, we challenge outdated perceptions and forge a more inclusive future within Greek life and beyond. My experience at Tech and within AXO exemplifies the transformative power of authenticity and community — a reminder to embrace who you are and to seek connections that uplift and empower.

The post Finding Home: How Greek Life Supports and Uplifts Queer Voices appeared first on Technique.