"Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does to the traffic."

So with one thing and another (and a best friend dropping in unexpectedly) I never posted the I'd Like to Share list for October.  Abject apologies.  We'll be having a Double Dose (such a dose, old woman, such a dose!), featuring all the nominated posts from September AND all the posts you've nominated this month.  Well, actually, I'm the only one who's nominated anything so far this month.  So please do go ahead and nominate your favorite posts for this month!  (Don't worry if you already nominated something back in September-- you can still nominate another one for this time.  It's not your fault that I dropped the ball earlier this month, haha.)

Looking forward to your posts!  Don't forget to leave the links in the comments on the I'd Like to Share page, and remember to mention which category you're nominating the post for.  (Yeah, yeah, preposition at the end of a sentence.  I'm only human.)

A Very Happy Un-iversary

Melody and me, performing a complicated dance routine known as Let's Cross
Arms and Clasp Hands and Look Coordinated For a Picture.

So I'm really, really late with my post commemorating three years of blogging.

In fact, it has now been three years and three weeks and two days.  If anyone's counting.  Which I bet you weren't.  But if you're one of those people who wants accuracy at all times, it's been three years and three weeks and two days.

That's a little less than one-sixth of my life, which when you think about it is a pretty significant figure.  As long as you ignore the fact that I'm only nineteen and hopefully have a lot more years ahead of me.   

The point is that I've been blogging for rather a while now, and it's become rather a big part of my life, and you've all probably noticed by now that I tend to overuse the word "rather."

Belle, me and Ally posing against a February-snowy backdrop

In the past I've written a blog post commemorating each anniversary (here and here) and of course if you want to see the original First Post I Ever Wrote On This Blog, you can go here.   This year I was at somewhat of a loss as to what I should write about.  I thought about sharing my favorite posts and whatnot of the last year, but then decided that was better suited to New Year's.  I thought about sharing stats, but though we're currently clocking in at 405 followers (WHAAAAAAAT) and about 477,000 pageviews at the time of this writing, with "Defending Mr. Darcy" STILL the most popular post of all time, there isn't really enough information in the stats to make for a worthwhile anniversary post.  Plus, it would be boring.  

So I thought and thought and took a few breaks to rest my brain because thinking is hard work, y'all, and thought some more and took a few more breaks, and finally decided to kinda-sorta copy my post from last year, but not really because I'm taking the same topic in a different direction.  Last year I talked about friendships and all the lovely people I'd met through blogging and how much fun it was, and blah blah blah.  Today I want to dig a little deeper and talk about how much my life has changed through the friends I've met through blogging.

Petie and me, getting our drama on

When I clicked "create blog" on my brand-new dashboard on that Monday morning in 2011, it was with some trepidation.  I could see the possibility of several scenarios unfolding-- one was that no one would read this new blog, because after all I didn't have any friends who wrote about this kind of thing.  Another was that a few people here and there might read it, but wouldn't like it, and I'd be so embarrassed that I'd have to take it down.  (This was part of the reason for my initial pseudonym and extra-special-care not to reveal anything about myself in case the Internet decided to hate me.  That, and privacy and caution and all the jazz that goes along with it.)  Yet another was that a few people might decide they liked what I had to say, and would follow my blog, and would leave comments and say friendly things, and maybe I'd become friends of a sort with some of them, or pen pals even.  I had a couple of daydreams about how cool it would be if I "met" some girl from Australia or something and we got to know each other well enough to talk on the phone, and then I'd get to listen to her really cool accent.  (Yes.  I'm shallow and I like people with interesting accents.)

None of these things happened.  Obviously.

Melody and me, telling all our most appalling secrets

The closest real life came to my imaginings is depicted in the third scenario.  That is to say, people found my blog (generally after I found theirs and left comments, and they'd come along to take a look at mine because they were nice that way), and they left comments and said friendly things, and I did the same on theirs, and before you knew it, I was actually emailing some of them (Melody, to begin with, and others soon after) and then bam, one day I realized I wasn't thinking of these people as "blogging friends," but just... you know... friends.

And at the risk of sounding cheesy, my life opened up in a way I never could have dreamed of.  Because of the friends I've made through blogging, I've come to understand what it means to meet a really-truly kindred spirit.  (Not to say I haven't met kindred spirits outside of blogging.  Because I have.  Heehee.)  I've been incredibly blessed with have the opportunity to travel around the United States and visit some of the people who've become very special to me (and have some of them come and see me, in turn).  I've been introduced to so many books and movies and music and recipes and games and who knows what-all.  I have so many more memories to cherish today than I did three years ago-- so many inside jokes, so many remember-when's, so many emails and letters and postcards and birthday cards to remind me of good times past.  I've gotten so close to people who used to be random strangers on the Internet (okay, that sounds creepier than it is...) and I never could have imagined that, three years and three weeks and two days ago.

With Emma, Alex, Addy, Belle and Ally, at the end of a cutthroat, late-night,
beyond-crazy Apples to Apples tournament.

A lot has happened in three years.  (And three weeks, and two days... yeah, I'm just gonna say three years from here on out.)  It wouldn't be quite accurate to say I'm a different person now that I was then (um, hello, I'm still me) but I definitely feel like I've changed.  I mean, duh, I'm three years older, and there IS a difference between 16 and 19 (I actually look YOUNGER in pictures from 2011... WHAT IS THIS PHENOMENON).  Obviously I'm not the only one who's changed-- since I started blogging, a great many new faces have joined the scene, and others who used to be regulars have sort of faded out of the posting habit.  Interests and tastes have developed and evolved over time, and I guarantee that if you look at the posts of anyone who was writing three years ago (and still going today) you'll see a lot of differences-- in style, topics, maybe even opinions.  

I've never liked change.  Not much, anyway.  I like things to stay the way they always were.  I look back on memories with a lot of bittersweet nostalgia.  I don't like to think about how the past is in the past and can't be un-past.  (Wait, that makes no sense...)  I was reminiscing with Melody, when she was here a few weeks ago, about the "good old days" in the blogging world, when our little circle of friends posted quite regularly and had long-drawn-out comment wars and fangirled excessively over that BBC Radio broadcast of My Fair Lady.  (See here and here.  Good times, y'all.)

"Knock knock."  "Who's there?"  "To."  "To who?"  "NO.  TO WHOM."

But nothing stays exactly the same forever.  (Okay, maybe Gilbert Blythe doesn't change-- that's the least he can promise you-- but he's the exception that proves the rule.)  And my little blogging circle hasn't stayed the same either.  People have grown up.  Gotten jobs.  Gone to college.  Acted in plays.  Written books.  Gotten engaged and even married.  (Wut.)  Gone through incredibly rough times.  Suffered heartbreak and loss and tragedy.  Made it through all of the above.  (People are, in general, tougher than they look.)

Over the last couple of years I've gotten very close to a few of my blogging friends (whom I'd now call my best friends :D) and with closeness comes sharing.  Sharing of joys and griefs and difficulties and sticky situations.  With closeness also comes friction at times-- much as you'd like to think you have the most perfect friendship in the world, nothing in this life is absolutely and entirely perfect, and sometimes people disagree and argue and have to deal with tension between them.  In the last few months in particular I've come to realize (not that I didn't before; but to a greater degree, now) that friendship is no bed of roses.  Tears are not always happy ones.

Petie and I are fabulous majestic beings who live in constant glamour and sophistication. Sometimes.

During the past year a friend of mine was dealing with a difficult and sad event in her life.  When she told me about it, I cried over it.  Um, a lot.  (I tend to cry over things.  One of my friend's sisters referred to me once as "the girl who likes sad movies."  Heh.)  In the midst of my angst (I'm good at angst), I remember asking myself why I was letting this affect me so much.  It wasn't my problem, after all.  It wasn't even my business, beyond the fact that my friend had chosen to confide in me.

And yet that's what friendship's about.  It's about other people's problems being your problems.  Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with those who weep, and all that.  It's about being there for people-- for people you might not have known three years ago.  It's about trying to understand others, and being oh-so-grateful that they understand you.  It's about accepting change and moving through it and being all the stronger for the problems you've faced.  It's about sending hugs when they're needed and knowing when to say you're sorry and calling people on the phone just to hear the sound of their voice.  It's about love, when you get right down to it.

I find it ironic that the poster behind Ally's and my heads says "Keep Calm and Carry On"--
a sentiment we do not live out when we're together and squealing about everything. :P

(Drat. I'm tearing up writing this.  Even with all the goofy pictures illustrating the post.  Ha.)  

In 2011 I never could have imagined the relationships I'd be forging over the next three years.  I never could have imagined the laughter and nonsense and millions upon millions of written words (seriously not even kidding there), and the late-night chatting and worrying and crying and caring I'd be doing.  Sheesh, I was hoping to get a pen-pal out of the whole deal, at most.  I wasn't signing up for what looks like it's going to be a lifetime of friendship, and all the baggage that goes along with that.

It just goes to show that you should be careful what you wish for.  And that the Lord's plans are better than yours-- because I wouldn't trade what I have, the people I have, the roles they play in my life and (I hope) I in theirs, for anything in this world.

Thank you, all of you, for being my friends.

Melody and I share a less staged spin.  :D

***

P.S.  Couldn't end this post on too sad and sentimental of a note.  Here's Ally, Joey, Emma, me and Prissy being frogs.  Please enjoy what will now probably be my last blog post before Ally kills me for putting this picture up.  Farewell, my friends, I go on to a better place.

Short Version: Together Again

"Surprizes are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable."

~Emma, chapter 8 (volume II)

Well, then.  Which of our important nothings shall we tell you first?

Yes, we.
What might that imply?
:D

We must, of course, contradict the statement above (though it DOES come from our favorite literary hero), because in this case a surprise was a very agreeable thing indeed.

Well, my friends, as you may have gathered, Amy and Melody are once again together in real life.  Only this time Amy didn't know it was going to happen.

YES I SURPRISED HER.

I have no idea how I pulled that off.

Well, actually I DO-- verrrrrry carefully and much planning was involved-- but I'm surprised it actually worked.  (So in a way it was a surprise for us both :P)

You see, my parents had a vacation last week and they were going to visit my oldest sister, who lives in a state that is, shall we say, a lot closer to Amy's than mine is.  So I wanted to visit her at the same time, and then I thought, wait, she won't be EXPECTING me to be the next one to visit her... OOOHHHHHHHH.

JANE, YOU SLY THING.

Long story short, on Saturday afternoon I was standing in her kitchen when she came home from an Outing.  Her mamma and two youngest siblings kindly came and collected me from the airport while everyone else was gone.

Now, Amy, tell us what you thought. :D

I should note that the first, extremely rude, words out of my mouth were, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" but I promise I didn't say it like THAT.  It was more of a squeal-sort-of-crying kind of thing.  And of course I was in total shock.  Haha.  Which was, I believe, the general idea.  It didn't quite seem real at first to just walk into my house and find my best friend standing there grinning at me.  We did one of those big squashing hugs.  :D

Melody and my mamma had kept this a secret ever since July (though Melody's Personal Plots and Plans and Machinations had been going on since February) and I still can't fathom quite how they did it, but at any rate, I was surprised.  :D  My other siblings didn't know until the day before and the day itself, so they weren't able to spoil the surprise for me, and Mr. Knightley wasn't there to make snarky remarks about it being inconvenient, so all in all it was eminently satisfactory.  ;)

You guys (er, girls) should have SEEN her FACE.  It was quite a fun sight to behold.  It all went so fast though, and then it was OVER.  Well, not exactly, because she was in different stages of shock for basically the rest of the evening. Heehee. :D  And oddly enough, it was quite surreal to see HER again, after hanging out in her house for five hours before she got home.  (That, let me tell you, was AGONY.) 

The best of it, though, is that she is not here for just a short pop-in, as I originally thought, but for nearly eleven days-- though six of those are already gone by, sad to say. :(  She will be here until the 15th, and we intend to use every minute to its fullest extent, and that you may tie to.   We've already had quite a bit of fun traipsing about hither and yon and going on adventures without any grown-ups, and naturally have staid up late each night watching movies and giggling and talking of Deep Dark Secrets.  

And of course we simply had to write a blog post and tell you all about it.  :)

That was, of course, the condensed version, so if y'all have any questions for me about planning the surprise or for Amy about receiving the surprise, feel free to ask.  

Cosette, we don't know what else to say, so we shall make no more sound and instead shut up and leave you with a nice quote.

“Our friendship has roots as deep as if we’d known each other for a lifetime…”

–Cherry Jones

A Big, Grand, Glorious Announcement

Ka-blam.

I tried for a while to come up with a really good sound effect to express how excited I am for this day, and "ka-blam" was the best one I could think of.  "Huzzah" also came to mind but that's probably because I've been steeped in Julius Caesar for the past six weeks-- and you're probably sick of hearing about that by now, so that's why I didn't go with "huzzah."  So "ka-blam" it is.  Ka-blam.

Have I said ka-blam enough?
Good.

Okay, moving forward.

...I can't hold it in any longer.

GUYS I'M CO-PRODUCING A LITERARY WEB SERIES AND I'M FREAKING OUT EXCITED.

It all started back in January, when I started thinking about how much I'd enjoyed several of the literary web series on YouTube, and what a cool way that was to adapt classic works of fiction, and wouldn't it be fun if someone did that with one of my favorite books, The Scarlet Pimpernel.  But then, what if someone decided to adapt TSP into a modern setting with a new storyline and I didn't like it?  What if they weren't true to the spirit of the book and ended up changing everything in horrific ways and absolutely ruined Percy and Marguerite and the League?????

Once I'd calmed down a little, it occurred to me that if I wanted a good modern adaptation of The Scarlet Pimpernel, maybe I needed to write one myself.  And that's how Masked was born.

...Well, a lot more work came after that, of course.  I approached two good friends of mine to ask for help and off we went.  Storyboarding, working out plot holes, character development, scriptwriting, scouting out filming locations, casting, long frustrated phone calls... yeah, it's been a journey.  But now, today, on Julie Andrews' 79th birthday (happy birthday, Mary Poppins!), we've decided it's finally time to announce it to the world.

World, meet Masked, an innovative, online, modern-day film adaptation of Baroness Orczy's The Scarlet Pimpernel.

Masked, look at the world.  Just take a peek for now, of course, because you won't actually be released to the General Public until summer 2015.  (I know, it's a long wait, but patience makes the heart grow anticipatory, or something like that.)

There's a lot more information (including a storyline teaser!) over here at The Day Dream, the Scarlet Pimpernel blog that I help run... and if you want to stay updated even more, please check out the show's official Tumblr, Twitter and Facebook page.

Oh.  And if you'd like to grab this little advertising button for your own blog, that would be splendiferously magnificent and I will be grateful to you forevermore.  

<center> <a href="https://twitter.com/maskedseries" target="_blank"><img alt="Masked" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2K93XcK0QFA/VCoI_wndmAI/AAAAAAAAHaM/0ZBpeyQfYD4/s238/Maskedbutton.jpg"/></a></center>

Movie Reviews: A Public Service Announcement (and some other stuff)

Oh, look, folks, it's me again, popping in here after three weeks of silence with a measly excuse for a post!  Yay!

Seriously, though, life has been crazy busy and when I do get on the computer, I've been catching up with emails and staying in touch with friends and not actually writing blog posts, and I do apologize for that, but y'all know the drill by now.  I shall be here when I can be, and neither more nor less, and since you're all so splendid, you understand.

Anyways.  However.  I do have a movie review in draft at the moment, one that's amusing me immensely as I write it, and as I'm writing, it occurred to me that there's something I need to make known to the followers of my blog.  I've gotten quite a few comments and emails in recent months from blog readers asking for rundowns on objectionable content in various films and TV shows.

And, though I am generally rather bad at saying this to people, after giving it some thought, I've come to the conclusion that my answer is no.  (But I'm really really sorry to have to say that and I hope you're not offended and please don't hate me.)

Ahem.

The point I'm trying to make is this: Yet Another Period Drama Blog, contrary to what appearances may imply, is not a movie review blog.  It's a personal blog.  A blog for rambling about the movies and books and television shows and fictional characters that I like, with a dash of Lots of Other Things thrown in.  When I "review" a movie, I'm really just sharing my thoughts about the movie and opening up a discussion where others can share their opinions and thoughts. (And sometimes I actually get around to replying to comments!  Woot!)  I'm not trying to provide an objective rundown of the film; I'm just taking any excuse I can to sound off about something I enjoyed. (Or didn't enjoy, as the case may be.)  I am not a professional film critic, nor even an aspiring one.  (That would be a boring job because you DO have to be at least somewhat objective, and I prefer airing my snarky personal opinions.)

In addition, I also don't feel comfortable trying to provide an all-encompassing content advisory for my blog readers.  Very few people share the exact same views on What's Okay and What's Not when they're consuming media (that phrase sounds strangely food-ish), and my opinions as to what makes a movie "passable" and what makes it "objectionable" may be very different from yours.  We're not all cookie cutters, after all.

However, this doesn't mean I won't issue a warning here and there if I feel it would be helpful to my readers-- if a movie has a scene that I usually fast-forward, I'll probably give you a heads-up about that.  Or if my own younger siblings didn't watch a movie with me because it was too intense or adult, I may mention that as a caution if I feel it's appropriate.  But I won't write up a detailed list of every instance in which John Watson says a bad word, or exactly how far down the neckline of Marguerite Blakeney's dress falls.  Deciding whether a movie is worth watching is your own business, not mine, and I'm not going to try to tell you what you can and can't see.  Does that make sense?

Here's the too-long-didn't-read version: YAPDB does not offer content reviews, though I do try to keep the content on this blog as clean and family-friendly as possible.  If you want the lowdown on objectionable stuff, try the IMDb Parents' Guides or any of the multitude of movie-review web sites out there.  (PluggedIn, Common Sense Media and Charity's Place, for example.)

Thanks for bearing with me.  :D

Alsoooooo... don't forget about I'd Like to Share for October!  Please add your nominations in the comments section on the I'd Like to Share page.

Again, sorry for the severe lack of posts on here lately.  I've had a really busy month, not least because of Julius Caesar-- which was incredibly amazing and it ended last night and I'm really really sad it's over because I loved every moment of it.  (Well, I didn't love the times when I got lost driving in the city trying to get to rehearsal with my sisters... but I love my amazing director who stayed on the phone with me and talked me through some confusing one-way streets because he's awesome like that.  Silver linings.)  I really learned a lot-- for instance, Shakespeare is the best, theatre is amazing, actors are hilarious and great and fun to be around, military banners are much heavier and unwieldier than they look, it IS actually possible to do a complete costume change in under 90 seconds, and literally every line in Julius Caesar can be improved if you do it in a muppet voice.  Fact.

(It's a quote from Marc Antony, in case you were wondering, who in our production was played by an incredibly talented actress who doubled as Portia-- yes, we had gender-blind casting, how else do you think I ended up as a snooty butler and a soldier?) 

And on that impassioned note I will end this extremely random post.  :)

P.S. Hail Caesar. *falls to her knees enraptured*

P.P.S. He will eat only the finest Turkish caviar.

P.P.P.S.  Major points if you got that last reference.

I'd Like to Share: September 2014

(Picture is from A Room With a View 1985-- yes, that's Baby Lestrade.  :P  And yes, I cropped out Cecil 'cause he's annoying.  It's my blog. :P)

Hard to believe this series has been going on for over a year... wow!

We had an overwhelming bias as far as categories were concerned this month. :D  A quick note of my own before you go on a link-clicking frenzy-- I make it a policy not to share links to any posts with content I find objectionable or unsuitable for younger readers.  Of course I do ask that you exercise your own caution and discretion when visiting various blogs, as I can't catch everything (and you may well have different standards for what you allow and what you don't).  That said, if a link to a post is provided in this series, you can assume that I've read the post and do not strongly object to anything shown or talked about in it.  However, this doesn't mean I necessarily agree with the sentiments of the author, or indeed with what they write on their blog in general.  I say all this now because this month we had two posts nominated which directly oppose each other (in fact, one post was written in refutation of the other) and I have chosen to share both with all of you.  I don't agree with both posts-- I think one is right (though I don't endorse every single word of it) and one is really not so right-- but I think it would be kind of small-minded for me to refuse to link to something just because it doesn't match my personal opinion.  (And as I said, there's nothing in either post-- or any of those listed below-- that I feel would be inappropriate for my younger readers to see.)

If you want more details on all that, feel free to comment and ask which camp I'm in, but for now I'm not taking sides, just letting you know that I'm not endorsing or agreeing with all the posts linked below.

All that said (thanks for bearing with me), here we go!

In the Inspirational category...

Sara Lewis nominated Rachel Heffington for In Defense of True Love
Miss Elliot nominated Anne-girl for Red and Black
The Elf nominated Thomas Umstattd for Why Courtship is Fundamentally Flawed
Kiri Liz nominated Molly for Why I Believe In Courtship
Naomi Bennet nominated Michaela for A Study in Positive
Miss Dashwood nominated Katie for Follow Your Dreams (Up With Hard Work)
Emma Jane nominated Naomi for Why Home is the Best Place

In the Just Plain Interesting category...

Hamlette nominated The Nitrate Diva for The Reel War: Historic Pictures from WWI's Celluloid Front

Aaaaaaand... last month's quote was indeed from Persuasion 1995, spoken by the singularly irritating Mary Musgrove!  Who can guess the origin of this month's witty little line?

"Of course it's not as if he was my real pa, but he wasn't a bad old stick.  The mater found him fearfully annoying, but... I didn't.  I think the bird was rather fond of him.  I know he was fond of it."

A Quick Succession of Busy Nothings

I haven't done one of those "right now I'm currently doing..." posts in ages and ages, so I thought now, as summer's ending, would be a good time to do one.  An update of sorts, you know.  I don't tend to blog a great deal about my personal life on here, but now and then it's fun to write a little about what's going on outside of the blogging world.  (Because, you know, I do have a life outside of movie reviews and Pinterest.  Hard to believe, but it's true. :P)

So, of late, I've been...

~Reading

...the classic Christy (so good! though I don't recommend it for younger readers, as there is some adult content), the thrilling The Count of Monte Cristo (with my dad-- we read a few chapters each week and discuss them), and the fascinating Anne Boleyn: A New Life of England's Tragic Queen (a look into the life of a very misunderstood historical figure).

~Listening

...to Laura Osnes and Bernadette Peters and Mark Vincent and the Newsies album.  Film soundtrack and OBC recording, both.  And don't ask me to pick a favorite, because I like both for different reasons and I don't know if I could decide.  

~Sewing

...a Civil War ensemble that a friend recently commissioned (currently having lots of fun with petticoats :D) and working here and there on some new skirt designs.  Eventually I'd like to expand my Etsy shop to include a line of contemporary clothing with a vintage influence, so that's been dominating my needle lately.

~Watching

...just finished Martin Chuzzlewit with Melody, and I'm mourning the end of Emma Approved... a review will hopefully come soon.  (In case you didn't know, Emma Approved is a highly, highly recommended web series-- younger viewers should watch with caution as there are a few very minor content issues but all in all it's a really fabulous adaptation of Emma.)  Oh, and my family just saw Muppets Most Wanted on my youngest sister's thirteenth birthday (we have four teenagers in the house now, WHAAAAAAT) and I loved it.  Quite hilarious, and Tom Hiddleston's in it, even if only for about a minute.  :P  I'm also enjoying Green Gables Fables, which is another web series based on (just guess...) Anne of Green Gables.  Not as professional as EA, but still fun.

~Working

...at my nannying job, which I've been doing for almost two years now!  Time flies-- and my little charge is now almost three.  Good grief.   (And he's very talkative. And precious and adorable and a chatterbox.  And did I mention he talks a lot?)

~Anticipating

...FALL!  Sweaters and pumpkins and sharp autumn gusts of wind and tea in dainty cups or chunky mugs and wrapping up in an afghan with a good book.  It's my favorite season for a reason.  ;)

~Acting

...in a local production of Julius Caesar!!! This is my first real play ever, in my LIFE, and I'm really really really excited.  We have four performances in September and I'm looking forward to it immensely.  I'm playing the scintillating part of Caesar's servant-who-delivers-stuff (and I'm a guy, so that'll be interesting-- no, I mean, I'm portraying a guy in the PLAY, sheesh, I don't mean in real LIFE, I haven't been LYING to you all this time) and also a Random Plebeian who does a lot of screaming and protesting and shouting in the crowd and stabbing poor Cinna the poet.  Shakespeare is awesome.  :D

~Studying

...personality types and how people relate to each other. It's fascinating stuff, whether you're looking at the Four Temperaments (good post on those here) or the Myers-Briggs 16-type classification.  I'm an ISFJ with a bit of INFP thrown in the mix, which matches me up with John Watson and Combeferre and Diana Barry and all those splendid supporting characters I've always loved.  (If there's anything more fun than figuring out which categories your family and friends fall into, it's figuring out where to place your favorite fictional characters.)  You can take the test here if you're interested-- do leave a comment and let me know which type you are!

~Writing

...many great and wonderful things which you know not of.  :P  If you've been following my writing blog over the last year, I offer my most sincere apologies for posting, um, once.  Or maybe it was twice.  Whatever, it was measly.  I am still working on the Rochesters, but in a vague sort of way-- they're off being beta-read by several friends and relations, and when I get them back and dust them off and ask about their trip and remind them to put their laundry in the hamper, I'll settle down to giving them what will (hopefully) be their fourth and final edit. We shall see.  In the meantime, I've been devoting a lot of mental energy to some top-secret projects-- which I mention here partly to tantalize you because I'm mean like that, and partly because several people have been asking and I wanted to satiate what curiosity I could.  Which isn't much.  Haha.

~Learning

...to trust and rely on the Lord more.  Life can be so confusing and tangled and full of sharp drop-offs and cliffs with no foreseeable end, but I serve a God who sees the future and knows the plans He has for me.  His purposes and actions and love are always perfect, so why am I wasting so much of my time worrying and fretting because His plan doesn't seem to be aligning with mine?  How will my faith ever be strengthened if I don't exercise it more?  They that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength, after all-- they shall mount up with wings as eagles and run without weariness.  That's what I want to be able to do.

"Not being able to fully understand God is frustrating, but it is ridiculous for us to think that we have the right to limit God to something we are capable of understanding."

~also Francis Chan-- the guy has a way of putting things :D 

~Reminding

...all of YOU to submit your nominations for September's I'd Like to Share!  Please remember to limit them to one per person per month, and to leave them in the comments on the I'd Like to Share page, *not* just in a random post on my blog.  It can be difficult to round up all the links if they're scattered across comment boxes hither, thither and yon.  :D  Looking forward to seeing your nominations!

Saving Mr. Banks (2013) Review

"Mary Poppins and the Banks'... they're like family to me."
~P.L. Travers, Saving Mr. Banks

"Every so often, I encounter a movie that touches me in a very personal way."  That was how I was planning to begin this post, but for some reason I kept being bugged by the thought that I'd used that phrase before.  A couple of hours and lot of post-sifting later (peoples, there are a TON of words floating around on this blog. seriously, it might be in the millions.), I discovered that I used that sentence to open my review of Little Dorrit back in January 2012, so apparently minds-that-belong-to-the-same-person-but-are-separated-by-two-and-a-half-years think alike.   Who'd-a-thunk it.

Anyways.

When I was little, Mary Poppins was my favorite movie in the whole world.  My parents were particularly careful about what movies my sister and I were allowed to watch, and Mary Poppins, Little Bear, The Incredible Journey, So Dear to My Heart, Winnie the Pooh and Peter Pan were about the extent of our repertoire from when I was four to seven.  Mary Poppins, though, was the be-all, end-all as far as I was concerned.  I knew all the songs by heart (still do), could recite practically any line in the movie (even all the jokes that went over my head) and worked out a complicated Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious choreography with my sister, using my Winnie the Pooh umbrella as a stand-in for Mary's parasol.   (Er, sorry, Mary Poppins.  Never, ever just Mary.)

So you can imagine how excited I was when I heard "they" were making a movie based on the making of the movie.  I mean, how cool is that?  The thrills were tinged with the slightest bit of apprehension, though-- I knew the story behind Mary Poppins wasn't entirely a happy one.  We had the old VHS tape with the behind-the-scenes video (it included actual footage from the premiere, the height of glamour to my young mind) and so I already knew a good bit about how Mary Poppins traveled from page to screen.  And I knew P.L. Travers, the author, was less than thrilled with the way the movie turned out.  So it was with some trepidation that I watched Saving Mr. Banks for the first time, because if there's anything that bums me out when watching a movie, it's a depressing ending.  And from what I knew of the facts, a depressing ending was heading the viewers' way with all the relentlessness of an uptight British author who wouldn't see things any way but her own.

(Please note that depressing endings and sad endings are not at all the same thing and I love a good sob-fest as much as the next Deep Person out there.  I was recently informed by a friend that her youngest sister speaks of me as, "Oh, I remember her! She likes sad movies!" Yes. Yes, my child, you speak the truth.)

Anyways.  Proceeding.  Let's take a look at this movie.  Bit by bit.

I'm a huge fan of instrumental versions of movie songs (musical overtures are THE BEST), so when the credits began with a haunting piano version of Chim Chim Cher-ee, I was pretty much hooked.  I can't say enough good things about this movie's soundtrack.  Seriously.  Thomas Newman's music is always gorgeous, but when his original work is combined with new arrangements of the Sherman brothers' masterpieces... well, let's just say it's one of my favorite movie scores ever.  Childhood favorite songs blended with lovely new pieces combining a soaring classical sound with a vintage swing vibe?  YES PLEASE.

(Um, please note that this review is going to be really long and really rambling and probably a lot more personal than many of my other reviews, so hang in there and stay till the end and I'll like you for always.)

ALSO IT WILL BE RIFE WITH SPOILERS SO CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.

Before SMB, I'd seen Emma Thompson in just two and a half films-- her brilliant 1995 adaptation of Sense and Sensibility, the wittily hilarious 1993 version of Much Ado About Nothing, and her (sadly short) scenes in Kenneth Branagh's Henry V.  (Okay, maybe that's more like two-and-an-eighth.)  Anyways, I knew she was a fabulous actress, but I was used to seeing her in more lighthearted, almost ingenue roles.  (Elinor Dashwood may be serious and sedate, but she's still young and in love and knows how to have fun.)  Which is why I was so blown away by her performance as P. L. Travers-- she was self-centered, embittered, tired and misunderstood and mean to people, and yet you wanted so badly for her to just win.  She was unreasonable, demanding, tactless and abrupt, unfriendly-- at times she was even acting like an angry person-- but Emma Thompson's phenomenal acting ability made her lovable all the same.  Because you could see that deep down she was still that little girl who lived in a world inside her head--  a world that was so much better and brighter and clearer than the real one, a world her father had helped her to set in motion, a world that started disintegrating when she lost him for good.  She still had a little bit of her childhood self in her, no matter how much she denied it, and she hadn't lost her ability to laugh.  Or cry.  Or listen to people and realize that they're not really out to get you.  Or, in the end, to forgive herself.

In short, she was practically perfect in every way.  (Yes.  I had to do that.)  And so, so relatable-- for me at least.  Grammar stickler, check.  Tea fanatic, check.  Bossy, check.  Insistent that the movie be like the book? CHECK CHECK CHECK.

...ahem.

"NO, NO, NO.  Mr. Banks does NOT have FACIAL HAIR."
"Tea is balm for the soul.  Don't you agree?"
"It is blasphemy to drink tea from a paper cup."
"And you [Mickey Mouse] can stay there until you learn the art of subtlety."

Tom Hanks does not look like Walt Disney.  I know it.  He only sounds sort of like Walt Disney.  I know that too.  And yet I was totally willing to overlook all that because he was so much fun.  Sneer at my vapidity if you choose-- I'm fully aware that I am deeply shallow.  But seriously, he was splendid.  "Nope, I brought you here for monetary gain.  Had a wager with the boys that I couldn't get you on a ride... I just won twenty bucks."  *ka-chow*

However,  I also liked how the film didn't portray him as this perfect guy who lived merely to make other people happy and had no vices of his own.  Showing his smoking habit onscreen was apparently pretty controversial, but I for one applaud the choice.  (I don't approve of smoking, obviously, but I did appreciate that they were being realistic about a man who's been romanticized a great deal over the last sixty years.)  And when he took Travers to Disneyland and handed out pre-printed autograph cards... well, that seemed a little bit cheesy and commercial, too, but I'm also glad they didn't try to sugarcoat that either.

Their relationship was so sweet, too.  (Um, not hinting there was any romance going on there or anything, haha.  Just a note for those who may have disregarded the spoiler warning and are reading this without having seen the film.)  P.L. Travers was so terribly prickly and cold and yet Walt Disney managed to make her laugh and smile and even ride King Arthur's Carrousel, for Pete's sake.  (WHY does a Disney carousel need two R's when all the rest of the world gets along fine with just one?  Huh?)  "Get on the horse, Pamela."

I realize that in reality, P.L. Travers and Walt Disney did not part friends.  The film doesn't even try to say that.  Yet I still loved how, despite their clashing ideas, they managed to share some truly special moments with music and similar memories and even strolling through Disney's dollar-printing machine.   Er, Disneyland.  We'll talk about this more in a few paragraphs, but for now I'll just say that I was okay with the way happiness prevailed when Disney was around, despite Travers' sharpness and frowns.  

Paul Giamatti as Ralph was definitely one of my favorite characters in the movie.  He was so warm and happy and friendly and upbeat... I just loved him.  The only American I ever liked... no, you may not ask why.

"The rain brings life."

"...So does the sun."

"Be quiet!"

Richard Schwartzmann and B.J. Novak look absolutely nothing like the real Sherman brothers.  Hair color, all right.  I'll give them that, but it ends there.  Does it matter?  DOES.  IT. MATTER.

Nah, not really.  They were absolutely hilarious and I still can't decide which one I liked better.  Robert is snarkier (and gets snapped at more) but Richard is adorabler ("wait, are we getting real penguins?").

"No, no, adorabler is NOT a WORD."
"I made it up."
"WELL, UN-MAKE IT UP."

Surprisingly enough, I didn't enjoy the flashbacks to Travers' childhood half as much as I did the main story.  You would think that a period drama nut would prefer the scenes set in the early Edwardian era to those set in 1960's L.A., but I must shock my readers now and again or life would get a bit dull, now wouldn't it?

Annie Rose Buckley was splendid as Young Helen.  (If you haven't seen the movie, all this name stuff is probably confusing you to no end... sorry.  :()  (Okay, a sad face combined with an end-parenthesis looks really weird.)  Sometimes child actors who are supposed to be particularly cute or pathetic can be really annoying, but she somehow nailed the combination of dreamy/imaginative and endearing-child-who's-going-through-a-lot-of-trauma without alienating the audience.  (Well, this member of the audience, anyway.)  Plus she's just adorable.  I loved how her kinky curls stayed the same through adulthood... okay, the adult curls were probably helped by bobby pins but hey, continuity.  Don't ruin my theories.

Colin Farrell as Travers Goff was... well, he was pretty doggone good.  If we're using the word "good" to mean "excellent at making me really really annoyed at him for about 80% of the time he was onscreen and really really sorry for him for about 18% and admiring his ingenuity and imagination for the other 2%."   Which may have been just what the filmmakers were going for.  I don't know.  I can't get inside anyone's head but my own.  

...No, wait, I'm a writer.  That's a stupid thing to say.

Whatever.

Anyways, yeah, Travers irritated me a LOT.  And yet he was quite pitiable.  But I just wanted him to PULL himself TOGETHER.  I know alcoholism is a crippling addiction-- I don't mean to make light of that.  Yet he had no desire to change himself, even though he seemed to know just how terrible a toll his drinking was taking on his family.  I won't pretend I was terribly sad when he died-- I mean, I felt bad for his poor daughters and wife, especially Helen of course, but you could see his death coming a mile away and he was making life miserable for everyone around him and... well... yeah.

(Probably some of my distaste for his character also came from the fact that he reminded me very much of Michael Landon and I'm not the world's biggest fan of Michael Landon.  Haha.)

I do wish this scene had been included in the final cut, though-- gives you a glimpse of the happier, more hopeful side of the Goff family.

Ruth Wilson as Margaret Goff was also very good in the part she played-- again, pitiable but not exactly my favorite character.  Though I did like and admire her wayyyyyy more than her husband.  She's a much more sympathetic character (look at what she goes through!) yet she doesn't seem to have much of a personality or backstory or motivation or any of that.  I'm not nitpicking, I promise-- but that suicide attempt scene seemed to just come out the blue.  At first I thought she was leaving her husband-- but then she didn't take her kids with her-- and then she just walked right into the pond and I was like, um, NOOOOOOOOO.  (Melody and I watched this movie together for the first time and it was about 11:30 at night at this part and we were freaking out.  Ha.  Good times.)  I wonder what became of her afterwards, too... one would assume she got her life back together once Ellie arrived and Took Charge, but we never do find out.  (In reality, Travers Goff died unromantically of influenza-- brought on by alcohol abuse-- and Margaret Goff took her three daughters to live in New South Wales.  But this wasn't mentioned in the film.)

So, let's go back to the 60's.  As I said, I preferred these parts of the movie-- the clothes were of course cooler in the 1910's but the overall feel of the story was happier and more interesting in Travers' adult years, and I'm a sucker for Happy and Interesting.  

Take Dolly, for instance.  She was a hoot and a half.  And her jello molds were fantastic.  Plus, she has some really quotable lines.  "She only wants to eat green vegetables and broth... I don't know what that is.  Oh, and she doesn't want any red in the movie.  ...At all."  She added quite a few lighthearted giggles to scenes that could have turned frustrating because of Travers' persnicketiness.  (Hmmm, 'twould appear that IS a word.)  

On the one hand, I really can see where Travers was coming from with all her fidgeting and do-ing and don't-ing.  When you create a story and give it everything you've got and write it exactly the way you see it in your head, I imagine it would be very very hard to see someone else exploring a totally different vision for it and changing it up.  I'm a pretty strict by-the-book purist for stories I haven't written-- I can't imagine how exacting I'd be if someone were making a movie out of something *I* wrote.  (Probably worse than P.L. Travers.  Heh.)  However, I do feel sorry for Don DeGradi and the Shermans-- putting up with Travers day after day, listening to her tear their creations to bits, couldn't have been easy.  I think they all handled her remarkably well, really. 

I love all the little references to the movie in the production/storyboard scenes.  Obviously you can't make a movie about the making of Mary Poppins without referencing parts of the dialogue or story, but nonetheless I felt a little squeal-y every time I recognized a tidbit from the finished film.  Like the debate about Mrs. Banks' first name, for instance. I didn't need IMDb to know that the names they consider all come from that scene with the penguins where Bert reels off the list of women who can't compare to Mary Poppins.  (And yes, I can recite the list at a rate of about 300 words per minute. "Iiiiiiiit's truethatMavisandSybil'avewaysthat'rewinningand...")

Feed the Birds has, for a long time, been one of my favorite Disney songs, period, and probably my all-time favorite Mary Poppins song.  I knew it was Walt Disney's favorite as well, so one of my first thoughts when I heard about SMB was that I hoped they'd include a scene in which he gets to hear the song.  And, of course, because this movie is practically perfect, they did.  I exercised my proficient tearing-up skills, naturally.  I don't know what it is about that song, but... 

...yeah.  

Anyways.

If Feed the Birds is my favorite Mary Poppins song, then Let Us Go and Fly a Kite is my second favorite.  Definitely.  It's just so full of elation and glee and fun and it seeeeeends youuuuuu soooooooaaaaaring... ahem.  And by the time that song showed up in SMB, I was ready for some elation and fun.  Because we'd had scene after scene of frustration and long nights and painful childhood memories and Travers being a human cactus, and we needed a song.

And we got it.  And for just one glorious, happy-go-lucky moment, nothing in the world mattered except the piano and the singing and the dancing-- the dancing!  I'm so sorry, but she's dancing! Mrs. Travers, she's dancing with Don!-- and nobody cared whether "let's go fly a kite" was correct English or not.

Coming from P.L. Travers-- and from me, if we're being honest here-- that's a pretty big concession.

Even though this is a Disney movie, it couldn't end there with the kite song sequence, though.  I would have been happy if it had ended there, but deep down I know that wouldn't finish the story.  And in order to finish the story, there had to be more hurt feelings, more frustration, more storming out of offices and flying back to London.  But before Travers went back to her house with her giant plush Mickey Mouse (am I the only one incredibly touched by the fact that she did take it with her?) and her noticeably softened hairstyle (yay for little touches of symbolism!), she stopped to tell Ralph the driver that he was the only American she'd ever liked, and that difficulties can be overcome and his daughter Jane could be anything she wanted to be.

Hang on, there's something in my eye.

And then the film production people messed with reality, because in real life Walt Disney didn't catch the next plane to London and follow Travers to her home so they could have a heart-to-heart.  Prosaically, he just picked up the phone and called her long-distance.  But-- and we'll get to this in a moment-- the concept of him going all the way across the ocean to have this conversation with her was very important, and so I think it was a wise storytelling choice.

"Because it's not the children she comes to save.  It's their father.  It's your father."

Fathers and their children are the theme of this movie, no bones about it-- though I'll admit it took me until the third viewing to realize it's Travers Goff who's reciting the opening voice-over lines.  "Can't put me finger on what lies in store... but I feel what's to happen, all happened before."  Walt Disney and his father, Helen Goff and her father, Jane and Michael Banks and theirs... they all had difficulties.  Jane and Michael's father's story grew out of the reality of Helen Goff's own father, with one little tiny change-- Jane and Michael's father was saved in the end.  Mary Poppins came and fixed everything when Aunt Ellie wasn't able to.

And that was the heart of the story.  The part that mattered.  The part that, finally, Walt Disney understood.

"Give her to me, Mrs. Travers. Trust me with your precious Mary Poppins. I won’t disappoint you. I swear that every time a person goes into a movie house, from Leicester to St. Louis, they will see George Banks being saved. They will love him and his kids, they will weep for his cares, and wring their hands when he loses his job. And when he flies that kite... they will rejoice. They will sing. In every movie house all over the world, in the eyes and the hearts of my kids, and other kids and their mothers and fathers for generations to come, 

George Banks will be honored. 

George Banks will be redeemed. 

George Banks and all he stands for will be saved."

After that one revealing moment in Travers' prim London sitting room, the rest of the film seems to go by pretty quickly.  Production wraps, royalties are paid, Travers begins working on a new book and hires her maid back again (much to the amusement of her lawyer, who-- did I mention?-- is none other than Wilmott from Jeeves and Wooster.  Fun fact of the day for you.)  And then the film premieres, Travers comes back to California despite not being invited (I was cheering her on the whole way :D) and, dressed in a lovely white evening gown and a wrap I can only imagine she swiped from a hospital operating table, she goes--with Ralph!-- to see Mary Poppins on the big screen.

I knew, before I saw SMB, that P.L. Travers was notoriously displeased with Mary Poppins.  I knew that she refused to talk much of it in interviews later.  I knew that she reportedly left the theatre in tears.  And yet I watched the final scenes of the movie hoping desperately that there would be a happy ending anyway.  That she'd hug Walt Disney and tell him the movie was perfect.  That Jane would somehow be able to walk again.  That Dick Sherman would get his live trained penguins.

None of that happened.

Instead, P.L. Travers sees her creation-- and Walt Disney's-- living and breathing and talking and singing in the theatre.  And she sees the family, at the end, running off to go fly the kite, slang possessive verbs thrown to the breeze.  And she starts to cry.

Not because she hates the movie.  Not because she finds it a travesty.  But because it ended as it should have.  Because Mr. Banks was saved.  Because the heart of her story was preserved.  Because her father was, in some small way, redeemed.

And also, ostensibly, because she can't abide cartoons.

Perhaps that was not really why P.L. Travers cried at the end of Mary Poppins.  Perhaps, in reality, she didn't derive satisfaction from seeing Mr. Banks get his happy ending with singing and dancing.  But the stickler in me, the one who insists on having everything by the book no matter what, is okay with that.

Because when you tell a story, you don't always stick to facts.  That's what storytelling is all about.  Fixing life up a little bit with imagination.

"George Banks and all he stands for will be saved. Maybe not in life, but in imagination. Because that's what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again."

As a storyteller, that quote resonated with me more than any other line in the film.

Instilling hope.

That's what I want a story to do.  Sure, I want realism.  I want a sense of "being there."  I want a good plot and relatable characters and a good moral message.  But ultimately, I want to use words to instill hope in people.

The ending of Saving Mr. Banks, a movie about storytellers and love and families and song and persnickety authors and beloved children's movies, instills hope.  For me, anyway.  For the hyperactive four-year-old who sat enthralled in front of the 11-inch television set watching Julie Andrews sing and dance and be practically perfect in every way.  For the bookworm eight-year-old who decided she was going to be a writer someday, plain and simple.  For the frustrated sixteen-year-old who wondered if maybe the stories in her head, happy-ful and everyday and down to earth, weren't worth writing.  

But a story that's happy-ful and everyday and down-to-earth is worth writing.  And reading.  And loving.  Because a story can instill hope.