little, noisy and opinionated
In other news, I'm completely besotted with Shakespeare Retold: The Taming Of The Shrew.
*heartfelt groan of, of, of ... grrroaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnn*
Rented it out on Friday, watched it twice on Saturday, once on Sunday and had to return it Monday. Guess what I'm buying with tomorrow's pay.
*bangs head on desk repeatedly*
I'd like to say with conviction that it's the story I love so much. And that is true, y'know. Although I sort of prefer Kiss Me Kate cos Petruchio's transformation arc is made much more overt there. This change is much more subtle, it's more of an absence rather than a clear presence of change. And I'll be buggered if I can remember anything of the Burton/Taylor version aside from them wrestling in the hay and that lovely mischievous smile above the horrible brown hairy getup. Hmm. Wonder if the brown hairy coat in this was an intentional cross reference. Hm.
I do so love warring lovers. I LOVE that shit! And this reinvention was great wif the mother and the best friend and the political setting and the bloody excellent female-adapted script. Even though I still don't know what the fuck to make of that last speech, as coolly as they spun it here. Even if I did watch it the first time with the subtitles totally turned on. *squints and wonders about premature deafness*
I'd even like to say that maybe it's the mere sight of drag, of fishnet stockings and knee high boots and long velour coat and short skirt and eyeliner and mascara and and ... *slaps self*
But really? I'm very afraid that I may be teetering on the verge of falling back into the PIT OF ADORATION as that phase from nineteen to um, twenty-two(?) was gloomily named. Nooooooooooooooooooooo ... I still remember how valiantly I clawed my way out. I've come so far ... *sobs*
Well, at least the Filmmaker Friend and I had decided weeks ago to see Paris, Je T'Aime. Ahem. Even if I was entirely too screamingly excited to read about the Larry Olivier award.
*clears throat, bangs chest*
Yes. Well. Carry on.
*heartfelt groan of, of, of ... grrroaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnn*
Rented it out on Friday, watched it twice on Saturday, once on Sunday and had to return it Monday. Guess what I'm buying with tomorrow's pay.
*bangs head on desk repeatedly*
I'd like to say with conviction that it's the story I love so much. And that is true, y'know. Although I sort of prefer Kiss Me Kate cos Petruchio's transformation arc is made much more overt there. This change is much more subtle, it's more of an absence rather than a clear presence of change. And I'll be buggered if I can remember anything of the Burton/Taylor version aside from them wrestling in the hay and that lovely mischievous smile above the horrible brown hairy getup. Hmm. Wonder if the brown hairy coat in this was an intentional cross reference. Hm.
I do so love warring lovers. I LOVE that shit! And this reinvention was great wif the mother and the best friend and the political setting and the bloody excellent female-adapted script. Even though I still don't know what the fuck to make of that last speech, as coolly as they spun it here. Even if I did watch it the first time with the subtitles totally turned on. *squints and wonders about premature deafness*
I'd even like to say that maybe it's the mere sight of drag, of fishnet stockings and knee high boots and long velour coat and short skirt and eyeliner and mascara and and ... *slaps self*
But really? I'm very afraid that I may be teetering on the verge of falling back into the PIT OF ADORATION as that phase from nineteen to um, twenty-two(?) was gloomily named. Nooooooooooooooooooooo ... I still remember how valiantly I clawed my way out. I've come so far ... *sobs*
Well, at least the Filmmaker Friend and I had decided weeks ago to see Paris, Je T'Aime. Ahem. Even if I was entirely too screamingly excited to read about the Larry Olivier award.
*clears throat, bangs chest*
Yes. Well. Carry on.