A film about debauchery, deception, and double dealing
by Missy Jubilee
Me: “You greatly overestimate my self-control”
Him: “I’m not looking for self-control”
Film background
If I were to describe a sociopathic, self-absorbed artist who uses their art as a makeshift diary to understand every mundane moment of their existence, you might think I was talking about Andy Warhol.
But I’m not
Andy Warhol was born on 6 August 1928.
I was born on 9 July 1981
There is no correlation between those two dates
Except that we were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday.
On the 9th of July 1995, I had a birthday
I turned 14
On that day, I realised that I couldn’t hide from the bad things that happened in that first decade,
Or the things that caused the acting out,
while pretending the acting out didn’t exist
That would condemn me to live in a dream world.
And since dreams are personal mythology, dreamworlds eventually collapse inwards on themselves.
I had to face the truth
I was a dumb kid surrounded by thick books
But I had to decide what I wanted.
And what I wanted was not what existed
Today I’m gonna spaz
My childhood was a bunch of broken fragments baked with bits of nightmare
It was like throwing a 12 foot rope to someone 15 feet away.
It was a disconnected dream that had no continuity
I ate insecurity & dreamt of shame.
In 1995, I realised I was cracking up from the inside and slowly falling to pieces.
It’s not like I planned it.
I never woke up from some rosy dream and said, “Okay, world, today I’m gonna spaz”
The doctors gave me an inward prophecy when they told my parents that I was crazy.
But the truth is, it was the voices in my head who were crazy, not me
It was only vanity and discouragement that made me feel alone
Expectations
I lived my youth in dreams of others.
And I couldn’t manage a single clear independent thought
When you have constructed your parents out of your limited hopes, anything real is bound to disappoint you
My early teens were a relentless forced expulsion from where I came from, as I attempted to deport myself to alien realms
9th July 2002
What exactly was I trying to do that day?
What was it that I wanted to prove?
I didn’t know.
But, after this incident, I had this irritating sound stuck in my head
What was it?
This sound…
Ohh… I know what it was
It was…the sound of emptiness.
I suppose I loved this emptiness, in spite of my clenched fist.
The man with no face, or name
But a question kept nagging me
Who was the naked man with no face?
So I asked the butterfly
‘Mr Butterfly, is there a word for forgetting the name of someone when you want to introduce them in the narrative at the same time you realize you’ve never known the name of the person you’re introducing?’
“No.” he said flatly
“So why are you in my dream?”
“Good question” he replied “Weird. Isn’t it”
“You are infuriating!”
“Yep,” he agreed “That has been said about butterflies”
I’m going to miss you when I wake up.
‘Then don’t wake up’ he replied
“Careful” I warned “You might accidentally make some sense. And ruin your reputation”
The Butterfly Effect
Can I give you some advice? the butterfly said
Without waiting for an answer, Mr Butterfly gave me his insights into my condition
“With this film, create something brutally honest. Something beautiful and full of monsters”
“Full of monsters?” I asked
“All the best stories have them” he replied
Why?
Because monsters understand the fears of their victim better than the victim does herself
And when you live in the shadow of insanity,
the appearance of a monster that thinks and acts like you do
is something close to a blessed event.
This film is about 3 monsters, and that blessed event that occurred on 9th July 2002
Seduction
Living a seductive lifestyle is all about mastering the art of creating more flavours than can ever be tasted
Seduction is manipulation, and manipulation is half of argument, and therefore many of us shy from it.
But seduction offers more than just consensual sex.
Logic alone will rarely get people to do anything. They have no desire to act.
You may not like seduction’s manipulative aspects; still, it beats fighting, which is what we usually mistake for love.
Seduction for a woman consists in sliding into an empty place, where her ideal form is already traced out by all those of her sex who have preceded her.
For a woman, seducing is the act of an animal species, and all women are accomplices in the tiniest such venture undertaken by one of their number.
The game is an unequal one
A woman always keeps the captivating part of seduction for herself – the temptress, whereas the man has always ended up with the faintly ridiculous part of the seducer.
Here’s the difference between seducing someone, and being as lewd as possible in their general direction
It’s in the eyes.
Eyes on the Prize
Eyes reveal the unsaid things. The innocence. The flirtations. The naughtiness.
They all emanate from the eyes.
Seduction is the arrest of the eyes attention in the midst of distraction
It also involves bending the will of another person in order to make our ends meet our means
Every interaction is a game.
When you stop playing, you are being played.
The psychology of butterflies
Some things, when they change, never do return to the way they once were. Butterflies for instance, and women who’ve been in love with the wrong man too often
When I was a girl I would look out my bedroom window at the caterpillars; I envied them so much. No matter what they were before, no matter what happened to them, they could just hide away and turn into these beautiful creatures that could fly away completely untouched.
Like a butterfly stuck in a chrysalis waiting for the perfect moment, I was waiting for the day I could burst forth and fly away.
I would come to this garden every day, say hello to the butterflies, and talk about things with them.
When the time came though, they just quietly went off and disappeared.
I’m sure it meant that they had died, but I could never find their bodies.
They didn’t leave any trace behind. It’s like they’d been absorbed by the air.
They’re dainty little creatures that hardly exist at all: they come out of nowhere, search quietly for a few, limited things, and disappear into nothingness again, perhaps to some other world
Possibly this describes me as well
The main character
The naked man with no face was my rainbow.
He came unexpectedly into my life, as rainbows do
I’ve found seduction and attraction can take many forms.
And if one is open to unexpected possibilities, there are no boundaries.
This was one of those occasions
His skin, kissed by warmth and shadow, gleamed with a luster that made every curve and dip of his body arresting, each droplet accentuating the depth of his complexion
He made me trip over my own feet.
I needed a license for my roving eyes, and he had a smile that Ctrl+Alt+Deleted my brain
The supercollider of seduction
The whole thing seemed to work on a similar principle to a supercollider.
Two streams of opposingly charged particles accelerating till they’re just under the speed of light, and then nakedly crashing into each other
I knew exactly how he was feeling, because experience had taught me that the kind of excitement I was feeling at that moment was never, ever one-sided.
It may be Nature’s provision for maintaining the propagation of the species
I glanced again. He was still watching me.
He looked like a deity – the perfect balance of danger and charm
He was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of his demonstrated flawlessness, and possessing such strength of character that he was utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way.
Saying goodbye
When I looked into his eyes, I knew.
He was either going to be the death of me . . . or he was going to be the one who finally brought me back to life.
His smile turned seductive, all shameless curves, and immoral promises
“Goodbye sweet. It’s been a pleasure. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow”
Maybe
On which he walked away, arse-naked
I lay back on my towel and stared at the sky while I inhaled breaths I had tucked away, hidden in secret places, just for moments like these.
This art of provocation
“What does Éloa mean?” I pointed to one of his tattoos
He narrowed his gaze. “It’s the name of an angel.”
“I’ve never heard of her. Was she a fallen angel?”
“She was, yes.” He hesitated, not wanting to tell me the story, but unable to stop himself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.”
“Tricked her how?”
He met my gaze. “She fell in love with him.”
My eyes widened. “Did he love her?”
*Like an addict loves his addiction. The only way he knew how.”
Curious, I enquired, “How did he trick her?”
“He never told her his name.”
Next film
Missy Jubilee 228 DISGRACELAND
Release date
1st September 2025