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- Genre - Comedy
- Actors - Rosie Perez
- story - Inside the Rain is a movie starring Rosie Perez, Eric Roberts, and Aaron Fisher. Facing expulsion from college over a misunderstanding, a bipolar student indulges his misery at a strip club where he befriends a gorgeous
- USA
Free watch inside the rain free. Free watch inside the rain lyrics. Neils dad hahahaha. 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙. I miss Kenny more. Lee comes in close second.
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Peter Parker x Reader So this is for the precious, most adorable person @dej-okay because she deserves only good things. Summary: You’d lost count of how many times you’d thought of kissing him. You had never let yourself imagine that maybe, he thought of it, too. “Or how badly I’ve wanted you like this, ” and he didn’t have to explain what he meant…” Warnings: None. Just A LOT OF FLUFF AND CHEDDAR CHEESE. Words: 3. 6k “Parker, ” you cautioned as he not-so-gingerly picked up the beaker that was mostly full of blue liquid that resembled and even smelt a little like Windex, shaky hands bringing it over to your side of the lab table, mixture sloshing around the insides, goggles beginning to steam up around his eyes from how heavily he was breathing, tiny rogue hairs from fallen waves at his forehead fluttering as warm puffs of air escaped from the spaces between funny eye wear. It had taken the two of you nearly half an hour to mix the contents in said beaker just right, waiting for the telltale appearance of that crystal blue to color the glass and signal the correct chemical change. You’d both laughed excitedly as you’d watched with anxious eyes, two pairs of goggles level with the table; forgetting that you were still holding glass tubes and going in for a high five, catching yourself with a sheepish expression just in time. He’d offered an air five instead. “Peter, carefully, ” you urged when the clumsy boy caught a sneakered foot on the corner of the table, neon blue peeking at the edge of its container as it swayed inside, nearly raining down on top of the shiny black below it. “I know, I know, I’ve got this, ” a tiny smirk following his words, and you found yourself believing him despite the sound of glass clanking together as he began pouring that blue liquid into the compound you’d just finished mixing up. The puffs of air fogging up both of your goggles stopped as blue hit green and you held your breaths, the whole feel of him changing when that red precipitate formed in uneven clumps at the bottom of the beaker. Bubbly laughter spilled from his lips in a rush of air as the tension released from his lungs and the smile that lit up the whole of his face kept you from doing the same, kept you from breathing, and you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to bring yourself to draw air into tingling lungs again if he were going to smile like that around you, at you. Because he was looking at you with the sun in his eyes and happiness making up the whole of his features in a way that warmed your heart entirely and made your body feel sluggish and uneven like the mess of chemicals in that beaker. The longer you looked, the more aware you became of how the color of your cheeks must match the color of that clump, and oh, but his eyes were glowing, and you were glowing, and his lips were pink and stretched prettily across white, mostly-even teeth in that charming way that only his lips could. And that was the first time you realized that Peter Parker was someone that you could kiss. Peter Parker was someone you wanted to be kissing. “Look, the nerds got it right, ” Flash’s voice broke through your thoughts, your eyes ripping away from the sun to look at the group gathering around your lab table, every pair holding a various shade of blue or green between them. “Go team nerd, ” and this time your hand met with his, palms and fingers slapping together beneath rubber gloves, bright smiles and fluttery lashes hidden beneath hair and goggles too big for your face as he started filling out the lab sheet in his neat, even handwriting. Peter didn’t notice, but Flash certainly did. And it was strange, to see that the boy who regularly lashed out at him, chose this particular moment, this observation, and you suspected, this shared feeling, to offer you a small, secret smile behind the back of a sweatered Peter Parker. Peter had been blowing up your phone for the past two days, texting you at all hours, constantly checking in on you since you had fallen down the stairs in your rush to get to class. He’d actually been the one to find you at the bottom, tears welling up in your eyes and a tear in your jeans where you’d hit and skid across the tile, twisting your knee and shredding the skin. He’d surprised you with his strength, and then again when he’d delicately tucked you into his chest, lifting you up from the ground with careful arms behind shoulders and a rapidly bruising knee, taking you to the nurse. You’d nearly laughed out loud, laughed at yourself when your body reacted to his closeness even after taking a tumble; the way your body felt pressed into the lines of his, the fluttery tingling you felt between nerves that were burning, how soft his voice had been as he’d uttered feathery words like: “It’s OK, you’re OK, I’ve got you. ” “Please, please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and I don’t have any tissues, so you’ll have to wipe your nose on my sleeve, and it’ll just be one big mess. We can’t have that, can we? ” His face had been inches from yours, concern painting his eyes as he looked down at you. “No, we can’t. No snot for you, ” giving him a watery smile, face tight as you’d tried to get up from the floor; his hands were quick, and warm, and sweet as one wrapped around your shoulder, fingertips brushing at the bare skin of your neck, a calloused thumb hovering over a delicate collar bone, the other tethering your thigh to tile. “No, no, let me, your knee looks bad, it’s already changing colors, ” his brown eyes were asking permission and his cheeks were flushing with color, funny eyebrows raised and waiting for your answer. “Y-yeah, OK, t-thank you, Peter, ” without even thinking your nose had pressed into the crook of his neck as soon as he had you in his arms and off the ground, drawing in the scent of the heated skin there, all sunshine, honey, and musky rain clouds, “I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt like hell. ” “I-I kn-know, ” words stumbling out of him as your breath puffed against fine hairs, tickling, moisture teasing, unbeknownst to you, leaving smatterings of goosebumps over tensing arms and an excited heart, “almost there. ” He’d stayed with you in the office, elbows on his knees and a pointy chin in his hands with caramel-flecked eyes that watched your every move as you lay there, knee propped up on a stack of pillows, pack of ice balancing precariously where it was most swollen. His sweater had come off at the first sign of a shiver from you. “Please? ” His fingertips brushing past yours as he passed it to you. “Thanks, Parker, ” brushing hair out of your eyes, using long, shy lashes as blinds, avoiding what rested beneath his own for fear of giving yourself away. “Yeahyeah, no problem. ” He surprised you again when on the third day of your absence he was there, knocking at your bedroom door and peeking a head covered in messy brown curls past the frame. You moved quickly to cover your legs with your blanket, self-consciousness immediately kicking in at the sight of him so close to the bubble of your safe space, at the thought of him seeing your legs bare, at seeing you in a tank top, at seeing you in your bed in your room where his eyes had never been before. “P-parker, what are you doing here? ” He hadn’t pushed the door open yet, careful eyes scanning your face, eager fingers peeking past the wood. “Can I – Is it OK that I come in? ” You were nodding before your brain had time to process that Peter Parker, the boy who constantly blinded you with dazzling smiles and a heart made of the sun, who was secretly strong but always gentle, was entering your world. It was strange that it felt such a big thing, like it was important, like it should be noted, even though it was happening now with no ceremony, no bells or whistles, just rattling nerves and shaky smiles. “Yeah, yes, enter at your own risk, ” sweaty fingers pointing up at the sign hanging above his head. When he walked past that threshold and into a new world where Peter suddenly existed where you did, and his shoulders shook as he laughed, eyes crinkling and cheeks pushing at baggy, tired puffs of sleeplessness, your heart settled and you released a breath, deciding that this was good and you very much liked him here, with you. Even when he stood in the middle of your room, hands stuffed in pockets, backpack hanging off of one shoulder and messing up the plaid collar peeking from under a grey sweater. Even when those chocolate eyes scanned over the little secret pieces of yourself, secret pieces that weren’t a secret to him anymore, and a lazy smile had found those lips. Even when he finally turned to you and stared, words lost, like perhaps he too was beginning to realize the step he’d just taken. “I like your room, ” he managed, “did you do those? ” He pointed to the push board you had decorated with sketches of flowers, the moon, famous faces, your childhood home, and him. You were praying he hadn’t noticed the one of him. You nodded, trying to rein in the panic and prepare yourself for the embarrassment when he did. If he saw, he was gracious and kind, as he always was and said nothing, “They’re amazing. I had no idea you liked to draw. ” “Sometimes, ” your eyes followed him as he moved to take a seat at the end of your bed, dropping his backpack at his feet, “it’s all about inspiration. ” You didn’t miss the pale pink coloring the tops of his ears as he took your words in. Of course he’d seen. His eyes focused on his hands, tracing the lines of his palms, as seconds turned into a minute, maybe two where you just watched him and he worked studiously to avoid your eyes. His silence was too much, he was too much, pink ears, dark eyelashes, and fidgety fingers were too much, so you broke it. “What are you doing here, Parker? ” Curls jostled, settling over too-big ears and temples as he whipped his head towards you to catch your voice and offer a sheepish smile. “Right, sorry, ” unzipping his bag, he pulled out an old, ratty looking quilt that smelt overwhelmingly of him, passing it over to you with this vulnerable look on his face and in his eyes, “I wanted to bring you this, you-you know, for comfort. To help you, with your knee. It’s mine-well, is mine now. It was my uncle’s before, you know, ” Before you could say anything, before you could tell him in so many words that your heart was now a sopping puddle of adoration full of the heaviness of his gesture, he was already talking again, silence having been broken, he was now a bundle of nerves, an open heart, and a blur of words. “Anyway, here’s all of the homework you’ve missed. I took notes for you, and I thought that I could, um, maybe go over them with you, h-help you with your make-up work and studying, or whatever, ” he was digging in his bag again. Your fingers traced over swirling patterns and faded colors as you watched the way his mouth moved around the sounds, lost in thought, lost in all of the walls crumbling and the feel and smell of this new world you existed in, lost in that feeling you’d had many times since that day in chemistry where you realized how much you wanted his lips to know yours, too. “Oh, and I got you these, ” you looked up to the crinkling plastic of your favorite snack and a nervous smile, “I know you like them. I’ve seen you with a bag almost every day at lun-” you cut him off with a kiss to the cheek, too afraid of what else would change if you’d pressed at his lips instead, if you’d thanked him where your eyes always hovered, lingering, trying your best to convey everything you were feeling through the warmth blossoming where bodies were connected by blushing cheeks and blushing lips. “Oh, ” he whispered, like he’d clued in, like he was smiling, like he was singing. “Thanks, Park-Peter. Peter. ” “Yeahyeah, no, uh, no problem, ” he whispered again, eyes wide and full of the sun. Your fingers were pacing over fabric again. “About this homework -” “Right, right, so in Physics, ” and he was a blushing mess as his fingers shuffled through the papers he’d brought you, smile on his face that brought that feeling right back, lips unsated, lips wanting more now that they’d stepped into that known world of his skin. “You-you’re, ” his answering laugh was uncomfortable, gloved hand rubbing at the back of a masked neck; gesture helping to ground your shocked heart because it was so familiar, “Peter, you’re telling me that you’re the Spider-Man? ” There was doubt in your words where there was none in your heart. Looking at the shape of him and the way he held himself, hearing him, that voice and his laugh, smelling him; that mix of sweetness, spring-time, and musk that was wholly Peter, you knew it was the truth, that maybe, perhaps you’d always known that Peter was more. “That’s what I’m telling you, ” the lines of his jaw and too-big ears hiding beneath red lycra nodding as he took a step closer to where you sat, where he’d told you to sit when he’d shown up at the time and place where he’d wanted you to be, yellow light from the lamp post above your heads casting shadows, accentuating the lines of him that you knew so well even beneath the disguise. “Ok then, Peter, let me see, ” shaky fingers pointing up at his masked head that he was already shaking in response. “I can’t, not here, ” he took a seat next to you, scratchy costumed thighs rubbing against the sides of softer ones as he leaned into you, shoulder burning as his pressed into yours, white reflective eyes peering, pleading with the last bit of disbelief gleaming in them, “but you know, I know you know. ” Hesitantly, he placed a hand on your knee, warmth of him spreading through your limbs from that point, like he knew that touching you would be the punctuation mark you need for the questions you’d had swirling in your mind. He watched as your eyes traced over red fingers and the ways they molded around you. “I do, I know, ” you were looking at him, looking at those hazy white shields that hid chocolate brown eyes, “you’re so good, of course it’s you. ” Warm fingers squeezed and you heard a sigh push past lips, sound muted through tight weaves. “But, Peter, what you’re doing, it’s so-so dangerous. Why? ” You were asking, but in your heart of minds you already knew the answer to that question, the words were still bouncing around your chest: because he is good, strong, gentle, kind, and warm. You remembered that day months ago where he’d picked you up from cold tile and carried you; the ease and grace he’d done it with surprising then, making sense now. “Because I can, so I should, ” the words were simple, but the weight of them pressed down on the red and blue of his back like the moon did the ocean. And suddenly there was that feeling again, only this time you didn’t just want to kiss him for yourself you wanted to do it for all of the times no one had, you wanted to leave hundreds and hundreds of ‘thank yous’ on his skin like craters, for all of the ‘because I cans’ and ‘so I shoulds. ’ Instead, you wrapped your arms around the broadness of his shoulders and curled your hands around the back of his head, pulling him to you and holding as tightly as you could; indebted, giving him all of the worry that no one knew they should be feeling for the boy behind the suit, giving him the warmth and unspoken words of gratitude that no even knew to package and label ‘ Peter Parker. ’ But you knew, so you held him and whispered with your arms and heart. Your lips kissed at where his ear poked through fabric, at his temples, lips spelling out everything for the boy who could, so did. “You have got to stop, ” your hands were linked together behind his neck, a few fingers twirling around loose, toffee curls, forearms resting comfortably on firm jacketed, shoulders. His hands were warm, holding on to your hips, steadying himself as you swayed with him, bodies brushing against each other as you moved. “I have to stop what? ” His eyebrows were furrowed, but the grin on his face told you that he knew. He knew what your heart whispered in that secret space inside your chest. His heart had heard it, had answered many times; had encouraged him to ask you to Homecoming. The last Homecoming. “Saying things, ” forehead leaning against his collar to hide your face, the look of him under the stars, dressed as nicely as he was, with that knowing look in his eye and that stupid smirk on his face too much. “You want me to stop talking? ” “Yes, ” you spoke to the flower pinned at his chest. “So, ” his hands were wrapped fully around your back now, pulling you flush with him, bodies humming and veins swimming with sugar and honey and syrup, “I can’t tell you how pretty you are? ” “Peter, ” you whined, face, neck, and chest as red as the rose on your corsage. “What about, ” he paused, drawing out the sounds of his words to tease you further, your heart hanging on every syllable, “how you make my heart feel like its stopping and starting again all at once? ” Your ear was pressed to his chest and you could hear it, hear what he meant, how that thing in his chest was flying like a bird does on a clear day. One of his hands had worked its way up your back and into your hair, fingertips sculpting warmth where they touched and pulled at your jaw, pulling your face up from the safety of his chest to look at him. You shook your head with fine, delicate brows furrowed and scrunched, a pout on your stained lips. “Or how badly I’ve wanted you like this, ” and he didn’t have to explain what he meant; that he had wanted to touch you, in all ways, to have your lines blurred, to share in breaths and warmth and feelings, worlds and secret pieces. It wasn’t so silly to think that his lips probably begged to be with yours in his own secret place, too. “Peter, ” you whispered, that feeling that was always there now, the one that begged you constantly to just embrace his lips like your heart had all of him, was boiling over and you weren’t entirely sure you could keep yourself from it any longer. Not with those words and this night and the way the little points of light above you in that inky blackness were reflected and dancing in the warm, earthy honey colors of his eyes as they took in the sight of you so wrapped up in every part of him. “I’m going to stop using words now, OK? ” His hands were cradling your face and all of the stars, save for the ones he was made of, disappeared when lips begged no more and instead started to sing. They kept singing for a second, a third, a fourth, and for all times to come as he kept kissing, kept pulling and pushing in all of the ways you’d wanted to for months, years; the shape of his lips changing as he smiled, happiness leeching into happy kisses. Happy kisses full of bright light; of hearts colliding and a new Universe forming blazed through your body, your soul, when his lips finally blended with the world of yours, a new feeling blossoming as his lips and your lips, your lips; two lips now one, embraced and danced together in warmth, across new terrain and unexplored but well-mapped territory in a land with winds that breathed Peter across mountains, rivers, valleys, and oceans of emotion. He was still hovering over wet, swollen lips when he found his words again, “Ok, wow, thank you, ” thin lips stained a shade darker from the way you’d painted his, eyelashes fluttering over rosy cheeks. “Really, what sort of dork says ‘thank you’ after a kiss like that? ” You were laughing at him and taking in his face, the face of Peter stepping into a new world where you and he existed and kissed each other. “Umm, the sort of dork you like? ” And the way he said it warmed you further. “And excuse me, but I wasn’t thanking you. I was thanking the Universe, because I was definitely dying tonight if I didn’t get to do that, ” and the way he said it was magnetic and pulled your lips to his again, the sound of your lips pulling apart new and exciting and a sound you wanted to hear again and again because it was yours. “Peter, you are the Universe. ” He smiled that smile that was made of sunlight, pressing those warm, moist lips to your forehead, lingering in that heat pooling where two points of crackling, sparking souls met and spun. “ You need to stop talking now. ” Let me know what you guys think. Feedback is always appreciated. Tag list: @demigodofthesun @jadeindiamonds @radicalstars @klenasdmitry @dej-okay @spiderling–parker @walkers-imagine @kauffdrop @ironspiderling.
Free Watch Inside the rain man. Free watch inside the rain full. Just wanted to say thank you for both this one and your Harbor Sounds video. Both have helped me a lot. They are wonderful. Free Watch Inside the saints. Enter the characters you see below Sorry, we just need to make sure you're not a robot. For best results, please make sure your browser is accepting cookies. Type the characters you see in this image: Try different image Conditions of Use Privacy Policy © 1996-2014,, Inc. or its affiliates.
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Free Watch Inside thérain. Free watch inside the rain youtube. Free Watch Inside the main story. Free watch inside the rain chords. Free watch inside the rain today. Free watch inside the rain watch. The first thing you notice about Rain Room, the sure blockbuster installation that opened at MoMA on Friday, is the tropical humidity. The second thing is the sound from hundreds of gallons of water pouring from an artificial ceiling. Finally, after your eyes adjust to the darkness, you actually see it: Rain Room, a 1, 000-square-foot space that’s in a state of perpetual downpour. Except you never get wet. Thanks to eight motion sensors installed above the space, the water pouring from the ceiling shivvers to avoid you as you move through the room, leaving you completely dry. The sensation of walking through a wall of water and staying dry is uncanny—and watching how people react is part of the fun. “Rain Room [pushes] people outside their comfort zones, extracting their base auto-responses and playing with intuition, ” explain its creators, the London technology and art collective rAndom International. “Observing how these unpredictable outcomes will manifest themselves, and the experimentation with this world of often barely perceptible behavior and its simulation, is our main driving force. ” The designers at rAndom International have spent the past three years developing the technology that powers the installation. Recreating rain, you see, isn’t as easy as it sounds. Water dropping from twenty feet above feels very different than rain dropping from clouds thousands of feet overhead, for example. And circulating thousands of gallons of water through public space has its own unique sanitation issues. To deal with both hurdles, MoMA’s team built Rain Room its own building, wedged into an empty lot next door to the ill-fated American Folk Art Museum. The artists, for their part, have stayed mum on the specifics of the technology—they argue that it’s all part of the magic. Rain Room is the kind of installation that museums dream of: wonderfully experiential and accessible to almost every sort of audience, with a New Aesthetic street cred to back it up. Like New Museum’s Carsten Holler exhibit, or the Guggenheim’s (conceptual) trampoline, Rain Room is a taste of things to come for MoMA, which (like all museums) is struggling to reach new audiences and make the most of what it has. All of that aside, on a hot Sunday afternoon, Rain Room is hard not to love. Check it out until July 28. [ MoMA].
I have heard the first 50 seconds of this song but i cant put my finger on where. Oo. Free watch inside the rainbow. Free watch inside the rain season. Free Watch Inside the rings. Who's Involved: Aaron Fisher, Rosie Perez, Eric Roberts, Catherine Curtin, George LaVoo, Ellen Toland, Paul Schulze, Donnell Rawlings Rating: N/A Runtime: 1 hr, 30 m Inside the Rain Official stills & photos 9 more Inside the Rain Plot: What's the story? College film student Benjamin Glass has it all: ADHD, OCD, borderline personality. And he’s also bipolar. But Glass is more than his diagnoses – he prefers the term “recklessly extravagant” -- and he’s determined to prove his genius. When a misunderstanding threatens to expel him from college, Glass pushes back; he plans on recreating the incident on video, with the help of a moonlighting porn actress (Ellen Toland), to clear his name. But how will he raise the money for the film, when his parents dismiss the scheme as another manic episode? Poll: Will you see Inside the Rain? Inside the Rain Cast: Who are the actors? Crew and Production Credits: Who's making Inside the Rain? A look at the Inside the Rain behind-the-scenes crew and production team. Inside the Rain Trailers & Videos Production Timeline: When did the Inside the Rain come together? On or about December 23, 2019 • The film was in Completed status. On or about December 23, 2019 • The film was in Completed status. On or about November 12, 2019 • The film was in Post-Production status. Questions: Frequently Asked About Inside the Rain.
This is the best fake trailer. Please more beautiful neighborhood, home and garden scenes like this one! Rain or gentle breezes, bird sounds etc. LOVE this offering. Thank you.
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Opens March 13, 2020 1 hr 30 min Comedy Drama Tell us where you are Looking for movie tickets? Enter your location to see which movie theaters are playing Inside the Rain (2020) near you. ENTER CITY, STATE OR ZIP CODE GO This movie releases on March 13, 2020. Sign up for a FANALERT® and be the first to know when tickets and other exclusives are available in your area. Also sign me up for FanMail to get updates on all things movies: tickets, special offers, screenings + more. Inside the Rain: Trailer 1 1 of 1 Inside the Rain (2020) Synopsis When a misunderstanding threatens to expel him from college, Glass pushes back; he plans on recreating the incident on video, with the help of a moonlighting porn actress, to clear his name. Read Full Synopsis Movie Reviews Presented by Rotten Tomatoes.
Free watch inside the rain cast. Ooooooooo. Fantasy Island gone over the edge. Can't wait. James Bond. WOOF. Free Watch Inside the rain. Free Watch Inside the rainforest. 2:08 we just not gonna talk about this great quote: “This is what God gave me to work with, and Im gonna make it beautiful cause its mine.” Like u go man. Free watch inside the rain online. NEW YORK, Oct. 31, 2019 /PRNewswire/ -- Aaron Fisher's directorial debut " Inside the Rain " has been generating substantial buzz and critical acclaim at sold-out screenings on this year's Fall festival circuit. The film's world premiere was at the Woodstock Film Festival, where it was nominated for Best Feature Narrative. Festival dates for the film include Nashville Film Festival, San Diego International Film Festival, Twin Cities Film Fest as its Centerpiece highlight and the Big Apple Film Festival, where it will be the Opening Night film. The film received a Best Comedy Feature nomination at San Diego. Trailer for Aaron Fisher's "Inside the Rain" Rosie Perez in Aaron Fisher's "Inside the Rain" (PRNewsfoto/Aaron Fisher) "Inside the Rain" has obtained theatrical distribution beginning in March 2020 in U. S. markets including NY and LA. The film stars Aaron Fisher, Ellen Toland, Eric Roberts, Paul Schulze, with Catherine Curtin and Rosie Perez. Donnell Rawlings rounds out the talented cast. "Inside the Rain" was written and directed by Aaron Fisher, produced by George LaVoo and executive produced by Christine Vachon, Danny Fisher and Javier Gonzalez. The director of photography was Josh Fisher. The film is a presentation of Act 13 in association with Killer Films. The film will be theatrically distributed by Sky Island Films. Facing expulsion from college over a misunderstanding, a bipolar student ( Aaron Fisher) indulges his misery at a strip club where he befriends a beautiful and enigmatic sex worker ( Ellen Toland) and they hatch a madcap scheme to prove his innocence. Rosie Perez stars as a tough love shrink, Eric Roberts as an unhinged film producer, and Catherine Curtin and Paul Schulze as the long-suffering parents. The ultimate underdog film and proof that if you believe in yourself, anything is possible. "'Inside the Rain' is an important film that deals honestly with issues of mental health, and manages to be at once humorous and poignant, " said co-star Rosie Perez. "I responded to director Aaron Fisher's script, and enjoyed working with him on our scenes together. " "Inside The Rain" has also attracted many film critics attention. Westwood One states, " Insightful and audacious, with terrific cast…raw and heartfelt emotion. " And Tribune Media Services said, " 'Inside the Rain' is a captivating story where the brush strokes of life and the arts blend together beautifully. " The film was cast by Ellyn Marshall and Maria Nelson of Orpheus Group Casting. Production counsel for the film is Evan Krauss of Eisner, LLP. Produced by Inside the Rain, LLC. CONTACT: Deana Dor, 1-646-449-9614, Click Here For Trailer SOURCE Aaron Fisher.
Free watch inside the rain game. Critics Consensus No consensus yet. Tomatometer Not Yet Available TOMATOMETER Total Count: N/A Coming soon Release date: Mar 13, 2020 Audience Score Ratings: Not yet available Inside the Rain Ratings & Reviews Explanation Inside the Rain Videos Photos Movie Info College film student Benjamin Glass (played by writer-director Aaron Fisher) has it all: ADHD, OCD, borderline personality. And he's also bipolar. But Glass is more than his diagnoses - he prefers the term "recklessly extravagant" - and he's determined to prove his genius. When a misunderstanding threatens to expel him from college, Glass pushes back; he plans on recreating the incident on video, with the help of a moonlighting sex worker (Ellen Toland) to clear his name. But how will he raise the money for the film, when his parents dismiss the scheme as another manic episode? Inside the Rain is a wincingly funny rom-com-drama, anchored by off-kilter performances by co-stars Aaron Fisher and Ellen Toland. The colorful ensemble cast includes Rosie Perez as a tough love shrink, Eric Roberts as an unhinged film producer, and Catherine Curtin and Paul Schulze as the long-suffering parents. The ultimate underdog film and proof that if you believe in yourself, anything is possible. Rating: NR Genre: Directed By: Written By: In Theaters: Mar 13, 2020 limited Runtime: 90 minutes Studio: Act 13 Cast Critic Reviews for Inside the Rain Audience Reviews for Inside the Rain There are no featured reviews for Inside the Rain because the movie has not released yet (Mar 13, 2020). See Movies in Theaters Inside the Rain Quotes Movie & TV guides.
Free Watch Inside the rings online. Project Summary: Facing expulsion from college over bogus accusations, Ben, a bipolar student, indulges his misery at a strip club, where he befriends Emma, a gorgeous, intelligent, outrageous erotic model. Together, they hatch a madcap scheme to prove his innocence. Production Contacts: Cast & Crew: Christine Vachon (Producers) Join FTIA and get full access to 1, 500+ active projects filming near you. Already a member? Login. [Produced by Flame Alkahest] [Intro] [Hook] Smoking blunts inside the rain Backwood to the face and watch the world fade away [Verse] Watch the world fade away, slowly that shit drift from me Reality disappear, I see the world so differently Pineal gland decalcified, I'm mixing lean with alkaline Khalifa Kush inside my blunt, boy I be up up so high My city got that legal weed, so now I'm smoking legally Smoking blunts inside the rain, boy you wish you get like me Rolling up that Dizzy OG, get that shit away from me If it ain't loud, than I don't pay, if she ain't down than I don’t play They hit me up to blow some trees, I'm on my way I got that gas I'm moving fast, like im the flash, I smoke the blunt, and then I dash I leave the SESH, my eyes be bloody, got the giggles, nothing funny Hit the shop I got the munchies, I got crop I feel like Chumlee Pack a bowl of spinach than I smoke it with my metal I'm on another level, balling out like im a Rebel I'm dressed from head to toe in black, they calling me the Devil Now I'm talking with a demon while im smoking on dimethyl Backwood to the face and watch the world fade away.
Free watch inside the rain 2. Free watch inside the rain band. Disclaimer: I have bipolar disorder, and am analyzing this film, about a character with bipolar disorder, through the lens of that illness. Inside the Rain is a quirky little film that defies genre or characterization. It’s probably funnier than anything else, but it has a lot of serious issues at its core. It borders on being a comedic romance between a stripper and a college student struggling with severe mental illness, but never really commits to or solidifies that thread. It’s sort of a desperate “let’s put on a show” caper fueled by manic delusion. More than anything, it’s a film that does not shy away from mental illness, and is willing to explore its messiness, its heartache, and its humor. Like many other marginalized communities, people with mental illness are usually curious and excited to see themselves portrayed in media. Everyone’s experience with mental illness is so different that it’s difficult to label these portrayals as “accurate. ” Several of writer/director/lead actor Aaron Fisher’s moments felt achingly true to me, which makes sense, as he also has bipolar disorder. Some aspects were different enough that I felt I learned something new. And some of it actually felt inaccurate to me, which is odd considering his experience. One thing consistent throughout is his empathy for his hero Ben Glass’s plight, even when he makes mistakes---and he makes a lot of mistakes. The story begins with Ben working with an office for accommodation of disabilities to gain access to a college where he plans to major in film (another commonality I share with the character). He wants to be just like other students, but he can’t pretend he is. Right off the bat, on his first day, one of his classmates makes one of those remarks that is only cringe-worthy to people who struggle with mental illness: “I guess I’m bipolar in terms of my interests. ” “I’m really, literally bipolar, ” Ben says when it comes to his turn. Or, as he prefers to call it, “recklessly extravagant. ” What he means by recklessly extravagant is questioned by his classmate Daisy when they head back to her place after Ben’s awkward plays at a party. Well, Ben explains, he’s like Odysseus---when he sleeps, he sleeps for ten days, and when he fucks, he fucks the greatest sex goddesses. They have sex, he thinks it means more than it does, she asks him to leave, and the next day he becomes despondent. He cannot concentrate or sit through class, so he goes home to take some pills. He texts Daisy that he’s going to take “a lot of pills. ” Then he pours himself a healthy overdose of medication, washes it down with alcohol, and ends up in the ICU. At a point later in the film, Ben recounts that though he regrets it, this has happened to him so many times he’s lost track. As someone grappling with often severe mental illness symptoms, I admit to overdosing almost enough times to lose track, too, and it hit very close to home. Why do we overdose? Because, as many people think, we’re drama queens crying out for attention? Or because we truly want to escape life? Maybe a little of Column A, and a little of Column B, is the real answer. People who have overdosed as many times as Ben know that it doesn’t usually lead to death, just the hospital. And yet we do it anyway. I explained it to a therapist once as hitting the pause button or just turning the world off for awhile---wanting to sleep a long time, maybe not forever. It’s impossible to explain that state, or that compulsion, to someone who doesn’t understand, or who hasn’t been there. It just is what it is. The movie gets this so, so right. And Ben doesn’t seem to be engaging in melodrama---explaining it and apologizing are all done in his typical deadpan style. Unfortunately, his actions have consequences, however, and when Daisy sees Ben measuring out his weekly medication, she gets scared and calls the police, even though this time he is taking it as prescribed. He has lost trust as well as his privilege to attend school. To Ben’s mind, there is only one way to secure justice for his unfair expulsion from school: he must make a movie. The story-within-a-story frame of Inside the Rain gives it a dramatic, meta-fictional feel. Ben of course plays the hero in his own life story, who was, as he puts it at one point, the “victim of a horrible discrimination. ” He writes a script word-for-word about his encounter with Daisy. In one of the most endearing turns in the film, Eric Roberts plays Monty, a failed movie producer living out of his mother’s garage. He convinces Ben that the script is brilliant and he needs to create a fundraiser for it. That’s probably enough exposition to set up Ben’s predicament and Odyssean quest. Rosie Perez plays a foil for him in the form of psychiatrist Dr. Holloway, questioning his madcap ideas and exposing his windmill-tilting to the harsh light of reality. A large part of Ben’s narrative is told in her office. Among his flights of fancy, in addition to believing making a movie will exonerate him during a school hearing, Ben seems to truly believe he can embark on a meaningful relationship with a stripper and porn star he defended from attack outside her club, who he also talks into starring in his movie. And he’s almost right. Like many manic people, Ben believes so strongly in his own heightened abilities that it’s sometimes hard not to succumb to him. His “relationship” of sorts with Emma, played by Ellen Toland, hits just the right note of wavering between fear and falling in love. She expresses uncertainty, but during what is probably the film’s most memorable sequence Ben walks her back to her car playing a song the whole time. “I just like this song, ” he says. They walk side by side, taking their time, stealing glances at each other, with only the plaintive music as dialogue. “You’re so ordinary, you make me feel brand new, ” the song says as the two anything-but-ordinary misfits share this moment. (I was unable to identify the song, though I really love it and its use is so perfect I wouldn’t be surprised if it was written for the film). By the time they reach her car, she has softened. This makes sense as manic people can be really damn charming when they’re not being scary. I remember the mixed reactions I received during my own manic state of people commenting positively on my bright energy, and people reacting in fear, especially the further untethered from reality I became. What goes up must come down is never truer than when it comes to bipolar disorder, as Dr. Holloway reminds Ben in her straight-talk fashion. Eventually Ben hits a breaking point after not taking his meds and ends up in a psych ward, a common logical endpoint to these episodes. During his breakdown, Ben screams, “I want justice! ” One gets the sense that he is talking about more than his school situation. He is talking about his disease. I have been in a few different psych wards, and I have never seen one that resembles the one in this film. It’s full of things neurotypical audience members would probably not notice, but the discrepancies jumped out at me right away. Windows with blinds that have cords, when you aren’t even allowed to have your shoelaces for fear of hanging. Two patients unsupervised in a kitchen where they seem to have free reign of the food they eat and drink there, instead of constant monitoring, including diet. Visitors are allowed inside patients’ private dayrooms rather than meeting, again under monitoring, in special designated areas. These are small details, but they come across as odd since it’s hard for me to believe someone with bipolar disorder hasn’t been to a psych ward at least once. But again, different experiences. My experience with bipolar disorder is also quite different than Ben’s in the film. Ben reads as very deadpan the entire film, even when he’s manic. He appears to be rapid-cycling and to have mixed states, which I have not experienced, so it’s difficult for me to judge the “accuracy” of his portrayal. His speech never becomes rapid, loud, and constant. His speech and disconnect from others almost seemed autistic to me. However, at one point he rattles off an alphabet soup of conditions he has, including OCD, ADHD, and BPD, so his symptoms could be indicative of other mental illnesses, or of an interaction between them all. Co-morbidity does seem to run rampant in mental illness. However, some things hit uncomfortably close to home. The overdosing. Ben divulging that he has special powers, only needs three hours of sleep a night, and spends the majority of time in his bed ordering in. And the manic delusions---that making a film about his experience will bring him justice, and that Emma needs to be the star and could be his girlfriend. Mania is a funny thing. It’s exciting and melancholy at the same time. It’s the fuel of beautiful dreams that are going to eventually shatter. And Inside the Rain gets that just right. Aaron Fisher is a confident and assured director. He is the Citizen Kane of his own film, a larger-than-life character with complete creative control determined to conquer the world. The majority of the film is populated with his expressive features, often in close-up, sometimes from above, as if the world is bearing down upon him. The casting and performances are stellar, from Rosie Perez’s tough-love psychiatrist to Eric Roberts’s kooky producer to Ellen Toland’s cautious Emma to Catherine Curtin and Paul Schulze as Ben’s long-suffering parents. As most parents in that difficult situation do, they love their son and want him to have the best possible life, but they also want to protect him and help him control his illness. It’s a tough balancing act to pull off. I think precisely because Inside the Rain is such an oddball, tonally inconsistent film, it took me awhile to process it. The film appropriately feels like bipolar disorder itself. Sometimes it feels uncomfortable to laugh at Ben because the funny things he says are so clearly the result of mental illness, and I wonder how it would play with an audience. The truth, however, is that mental illness can be really funny when it’s not being so damn sad. The film is full of what are clearly manic delusions, but they’re so fantastic that you want badly for them to be true, even when you know they’re not and you’re heading for a crash. The more time I had to think about it and to write about it, the more I appreciated it for that very reason. While people with mental illness are generally interested in portrayals of their experiences on the screen, many of them are wildly inaccurate. Inside The Rain is an inside job---a film made in every sense by a person with bipolar disorder, trying to express to both insiders and outsiders what that experience is like. It’s both a mirror and a window. Films like this are rare and valuable. Aaron Fisher is an unusual and important voice, and I hope he keeps making movies. - SHARON GISSY The film has been selected as January’s feature at the New Filmmakers Los Angeles Film Festival screening on January 11, 2020, and will be released in theaters beginning March 13, 2020. Previous Bug (2006) James Laczkowski January 18, 2020 Next Making Waves: The Art Of Cinematic Sound (2019) James Laczkowski October 29, 2019.
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