“did chris evans actually jump that high to grab onto that helicopter in civil war?”
friendly reminder that chris vaulted with ease over chris pratt after just telling him less than a minute before that he would be able to clear him if he only put his head down.
I want a Celebrity Obstacle Course show where all the pretty people can show off their hard stunt work for us and also occasionally eat it, because they need to be humbled sometimes. The judges would be career stunt people, to give them visibility, because they work even harder. Shirts optional.
You wouldn’t even finish the phrase “Celebrity Ninja Warrior” before Chris would start jumping up and doing yelling “Me! Me! Pick me!”
Anyone know how to contact Netflix about this?
friendly reminder Chris did most of his stunts bc the stunt guys couldn’t move like him.
“One thing we found, too, is Chris can run very fast. He also has a very unique run. It’s almost a dancer’s run. And when we tried to double him for running, there was nobody who could run like him. They just didn’t have the same dynamics or the way he moves. He had to end up doing most of his running.”
“What we also found, is that we had gymnasts come in to do things, and Chris could do the same stuff that they could do, but it would look like Chris Evans. When the body doubles or the gymnasts or the runners did it, it just didn’t look like him. He has such a unique way of moving, and he could pretty much do all of his own physical stuff that wasn’t dangerous. Like this shot right here, we had a gymnast do this, and Chris actually ended up doing it better. That’s Chris here. He hops up on a tank and over a 12-foot wall. It looks effortless but it’s not that easy!”
“Chris worked his butt off for four months doing gymnastics and stunt training so in a scene like this he could go toe-to-toe with Georges St-Pierre and make it look really credible. Once the helmet comes off, 95% of that is Chris, except obviously for that massive aerial kick that he does.I think he did a fantastic job.”
The really cool thing about Chris Evans is that he’s a super talented, athletic guy. He retains things amazingly well. I mean, I’m blown away. I can show him a 15-punch fight two times, and he’s got it. – Thomas Harper, Stunt Coordinator, CATWS
Buzz began circulating around Rose Christo’s forthcoming memoir from St. Martin’s Press. There seemed to be a lot of genuine excitement about the book as My Immortal is a well loved internet phenomenon, and the book was promoted as detailing Christo’s strange and tumultuous upbringing during the writing of My Immortal. In multiple outlets, it was claimed that Christo wrote the fanfic hoping to capture the attention of enough people online to eventually aid in the search for her missing brother. The problem with this story? Her missing brother surfaced online to announce that he was never missing, Christo has fabricated her entire dramatic backstory, and she was likely never involved with My Immortal at all. St. Martin’s Press has now dropped the book due to Christo failing a round of routine fact checking.
Her brother happens to be a member of this very forum (@DawnDusk ), and his side of the story paints a different picture, not that she lost communication with him while being shuffled through the system, but that she just doesn’t contact him and never was in foster care. He began poking holes in her claims in this thread; https://kiwifarms.net/threads/author-of-my-immortal-possibly-found.33996/
On her Tumblr, she also frequently blogs about the struggle of being Native American/Indian. Problem with that is she’s actually white.
In 1972, she ran away from home. She was gone for several months, and when she got home my grandmother started shaking her and screaming about how someone had told her my mother had no shoes and my grandmother was sure it meant my mom was dead.
She finally calms down, and they piece it together: my grandmother had gotten a phone call from someone who breathed two or three times, said “Cathy’s in bare feet,” and hung up. Except that’s not what they said–my grandmother had written the date in on her calendar, and on that date my mother was in Bare Feet, Arizona. She knew definitively that she was in Bare Feet because on that date she called home to talk to my grandfather, who told her Uncle Jim had died–“got himself shot”–and that she had missed the funeral. Ready for the glitch in the matrix part? Here we go:
–My grandfather had no recollection of the conversation–which would have been a strange conversation indeed, since Uncle Jim was still alive and, in fact, didn’t die until 2009, eight years after my grandfather. However, my mom did miss the funeral, thanks to a delayed flight. Cause of death? Supposedly, it was suicide, but there were enough indications for the family to believe that was a pile of horseshit, not least that shooting himself in the head with the rifle indicated would’ve been near-impossible.
–My mom was going by the name Patricia Danko when she was on the run–she had a fake ID and everything. She hadn’t called herself “Cathy” since leaving home and nobody knew she was traveling under an alias.
–According to my mom, she never gave a name for herself–either Patricia or Cathy–when she was in Bare Feet, and she would’ve had no reason to. Bare Feet had maybe a hundred people in it, and they were just stopping for food and gas.
–This isn’t just an account from my mother–my dad was with her at the time, and he remembers both the phone call and the truckstop.
But that’s not the weirdest nor the creepiest part, which is this:
–I’ve been trying for three years to find Bare Feet, Arizona–on the Internet, on old maps, by talking to old Arizona cowboys, and there was never a Bare Feet, Arizona. My mom convinced my dad to drive “through Bare Feet” on the way back from Texas in 2013 and there was no town anywhere along the highway, not even the abandoned bones of one. I’ve looked for Bare Feet, Barefeet, Bear Feet, Bare Feat, Bare Foot, Barefoot, and Bear Foot. None of these exist.
My mother stopped in a town that doesn’t exist, ate in a restaurant that never was, made a phone call that could not have happened and was apparently answered by a ghost from 40 years in the future, and later that night someone called my grandmother from a number that turned up on her phone bill only as a pay phone in Arizona to say that single sentence, “Cathy’s in Bare Feet.”
I didn’t initially want to reblog things here, but this is just too far up my alley. I think I’ll start collecting stories of incidents like this, weirdling magic at its most potent.
Avelera 