Where our heroine watches TV. And cries. A lot.
Thanks heaps to everyone who commented on my last whinge post. The good vibes help. I will confess I haven't been in the best mental state recently (best if I don't divulge too many details, however…) and am considering getting some free counselling through work. My last therapist and I had a slight falling out (again, best if don't go into it), plus I haven't been able to afford therapy since she hiked her costs up…so haven't had a session in quite some time. And could probably benefit from a bit of therapy, to be honest.
As a change of pace from my whinging (and to give you guys a break), I thought I'd bring you a little film/TV commentary. In which I cry a lot. Which is fairly standard practice for anyone who knows me.
Last night, I watched a New Zealand made-for-TV movie called "Tangiwai: A Love Story". I only caught the second half…but, by the time it had finished, I was sobbing on Matt's shoulder, and was still feeling a bit watery a couple of hours later. Yup, I'm a sook (or a big softie, as my Dad says). I call these my Mary Anne moments (dude. She cries at cat food commercials! ;P).
The film was set at the time of the Tangiwai rail disaster, which (for the non-kiwis) is up there on the list of New Zealand's worst peacetime disasters (just below the most recent Christchurch earthquake) and our worst train-related disaster to date. In 1953, on Christmas Eve, an overnight passenger train travelling to Auckland plunged into the Whangaehu River (in the Central North Island), after a lahar from Mt Ruapehu flooded the river and destroyed the railway bridge crossing it. 151 people were killed…and 20 of the bodies were never recovered. Of course, this happened way before I was born (and before my parents were even born), but I read about it as a young girl, and I remember feeling quite disturbed and traumatised by the whole thing - especially reading about the muddy and broken dolls and teddy bears being pulled from the river days later (which passengers would have been carrying as Christmas presents). As a country, the disaster hit us hard- as we only had a population of just over 2 million back then, so 151 people all at once was a big loss.
Anyway. Last night's film focussed on the love story between Bob Blair, a New Zealand cricketer (who I believe is still alive) and his fiancee Nerissa Love- who was killed in the crash. At the time of the disaster, Bob was playing in South Africa and Nerissa, after having quarrelled with her parents (who opposed the marriage, as Bob was not a Catholic), boarded the train to meet Bob in Auckland once he got off the boat- and to marry him.
After Bob learnt of her death in the crash (by telegram…as there was no international phone line in those days), he withdrew from the Boxing Day test match against South Africa…but, despite his grief, he went on to play in the match. Since then, his story and his "true Kiwi courage" has been celebrated in New Zealand cricket folklore. The end of the film shows him scoring 6 runs (a big deal in cricket) for New Zealand, and he sees a vision of Nerissa, smiling at him, and giving him a mock salute (as she did when she saw him off on the boat to South Africa). I had been blubbering away a fair bit up til then- but that bit really set me over the edge. :(
So yeah…even though I only saw the second half, what I saw was beautiful, both in the scripting and cinematography. I will admit I wasn't overly moved by the cricket-related scenes (except the bit at the end), as I'm no great lover of cricket. But, there were some scenes that, while quite simple and understated, really yanked at the old heartstrings: such as Bob and Nerissa saying goodbye when he boards the boat, Nerissa hugging her Dad goodbye and wishing him "Merry Christmas" (and you can see in his eyes he's completely powerless to stop her from getting on the train :(), the Christmas hymn "O Holy Night" playing as rescuers try to retrieve people from the river, the train guard, also a friend of Nerissa's, cradling her muddied body and being comforted by a local Maori woman, Nerissa's mother placing a rose between her daughter's hands (wearing her engagement ring) as she lies in her coffin, the local Maori people praying over the river a few days after the accident…all beautiful; all heartbreaking. The scenes with the passengers struggling to break out of the carriages were also fantastic- and, trite though it sounds, definitely captured the feelings of claustrophia and sheer terror and the water poured through the windows, and people desperately clambered over each other to get to safety…or not. :(
I didn't see many of the scenes between Bob and Nerissa…but one of the more wrenching scenes came during the end credits. Nerissa sent Bob a letter she wrote from the train (delivered at one of the resting points before the crash), saying that they should get married the moment he returns from South Africa, and that she didn't want to wait for her parents' blessing. She is listening to one of the test games on the radio from the train, and writes "Oh- you just got another wicket! Could I be more proud of you?" The final shots shows Bob opening the letter, which he's finally received after the crash, reading with Nerissa's voice playing his head, and planting a kiss on the paper. You guessed it- I cried even harder. :(
So, in short, the film left a bit of a handprint...and it's been on my mind for most of the day. Hmmm...it bothers me sometimes that I get so emotionally involved in movies and TV programmes that they take over my entire headspace for several days afterwards - particular disaster-themed movies. I mean, shit- live in this fraught, stressful, media-saturated world is hard enough, without me filling my head with 50-year-old rail disasters and doomed love affairs, right?
Then again, I've always had this weird obsession with disasters: when we lived in the UK when I was nine, we studied disasters at social studies in school (such as the Titanic, the Hindenburg, Pompeii, the Irish potato famine, the collapse of the Tay Bridge)...and I got completely hooked . I'd spend hours pouring over encylopedias (this was before the internet took off), researching disasters, each more horrific than the last. Mum even got my Nana to mail us over information from the Nelson library about New Zealand disasters (which is when I first read about the Tangiwai disaster), which fuelled my obsession further. My nine-year-old self was heartbroken by all these staggering losses of life- but, somehow, I just couldn't get enough.
I also remember being about 14, and watching a TV-movie called "Who Will Save The Children" about a group of teenagers who got caught in flood waters when the river nearby their summer camp flooded (also based on a true story), several of whom drowned. And, I didn't cry. I *howled*. As, in I was just about dry retching from crying so hard. I could have easily just have switched channels and watched something a bit cheerier...or worked on whatever homework assignments I had. But no. I just *had* to keep watching. I could have done the same thing during "Tangiwai"- could have switched over to watch Will Smith lolloping around as a drunken superhero TV2, for example. But no. Had to keep watching; had to keep weeping. Meh. Just addicted to catharsis, I guess.
To be honest...I've found myself even more sensitive to disasters (if that's even possible!) since Matt and I have been together. There have been a few recent disasters that have really got under my skin (the Christchurch earthquake, in particular, but that got under everyone's)...and the thing that was most on my mind after the earthquake was not, “shit, there's going to be a massive fuck-off earthquake and I'm going to die!!!!”, as it was when I was a teenger...but how the hell would I get back to Matt, with phonelines down, no cellphone coverage, the roads all mashed up, water mains burst, glass and bodies scattered all through the CBD...and how would I know where he was, and if he was even alive. Blah blah blah melodrama.
So anyway. I think that's what got to me about last night's film- Bob and Nerissa's story. Of course, there's the usual knowing I'd be fucking devastated if I were to lose Matt in an accident- in a train wreck, an earthquake, a car crash, by drowning, in a stampede of angry rhinos...whatever. And I remember what Matt and I were like in the early stages of our relationship (and I don't think Bob and Nerissa were together all that long before he proposed)- young, hopeful, giddy, madly in love, full of dreams, making all these big plans, not giving a fuck about anyone else. Very much like Bob and Nerissa when they got engaged, when he played in South Africa and when she died at Tangiwai.
Just before, I thought about Nerissa boarding the train, so desperate to meet Bob off the boat, counting down the minutes before she saw him again. Not wanting to spend a single second away from him. I remember when I went on my overseas trip almost exactly three years ago, and Matt and I had only been together a very short time. I missed him dreadfully and, several times, I came very close to cutting my trip short, and jumping on the next plane for home. I thought of Nerissa, writing to Bob from her train carriage, listening to him kick ass in the cricket...and I thought of me, on a flight between New York and London, listening to music Matt introduced me to, writing him a postcard, telling him about "Avenue Q", and the Met, and rambling through Central Park, and Coney Island and the bagels and the pizza, and how I was going to take him there one day, and how much I loved and missed him, and....
Yeah. Stopping this now. Posts like this remind me why I have the "Ezza, You're An Arse" tag. It's ok- I made it home, the plane didn't crash, no-one died, Matt and I are considering New York for our honeymoon, and I am officially a sentimental twat.
Anyway. It was a great film, it had a pretty profound effect on me, and New Zealand broadcasting FTW. Here is the official website for the film, which has a trailer, a photo gallery and info on the cast and crew. If you recognise the young woman playing Nerissa, she played the younger sister in "The Lovely Bones". Oh, and this song played at the end, when Bob scored his 6 and saw the vision of Nerissa. I usually find Gin Wigmore's music exceedingly irritating- but there was something eerily beautiful about this song. The line "I already caught the death train" gave me serious chills...
Right. Knitting. I do not expect any of you to read all of that...but thanks for making it this far, and putting up with my sugary waffling. Hopefully you'll get to see some quality kiwi television out of all this...
Might write a poem.
As a change of pace from my whinging (and to give you guys a break), I thought I'd bring you a little film/TV commentary. In which I cry a lot. Which is fairly standard practice for anyone who knows me.
Last night, I watched a New Zealand made-for-TV movie called "Tangiwai: A Love Story". I only caught the second half…but, by the time it had finished, I was sobbing on Matt's shoulder, and was still feeling a bit watery a couple of hours later. Yup, I'm a sook (or a big softie, as my Dad says). I call these my Mary Anne moments (dude. She cries at cat food commercials! ;P).
The film was set at the time of the Tangiwai rail disaster, which (for the non-kiwis) is up there on the list of New Zealand's worst peacetime disasters (just below the most recent Christchurch earthquake) and our worst train-related disaster to date. In 1953, on Christmas Eve, an overnight passenger train travelling to Auckland plunged into the Whangaehu River (in the Central North Island), after a lahar from Mt Ruapehu flooded the river and destroyed the railway bridge crossing it. 151 people were killed…and 20 of the bodies were never recovered. Of course, this happened way before I was born (and before my parents were even born), but I read about it as a young girl, and I remember feeling quite disturbed and traumatised by the whole thing - especially reading about the muddy and broken dolls and teddy bears being pulled from the river days later (which passengers would have been carrying as Christmas presents). As a country, the disaster hit us hard- as we only had a population of just over 2 million back then, so 151 people all at once was a big loss.
Anyway. Last night's film focussed on the love story between Bob Blair, a New Zealand cricketer (who I believe is still alive) and his fiancee Nerissa Love- who was killed in the crash. At the time of the disaster, Bob was playing in South Africa and Nerissa, after having quarrelled with her parents (who opposed the marriage, as Bob was not a Catholic), boarded the train to meet Bob in Auckland once he got off the boat- and to marry him.
After Bob learnt of her death in the crash (by telegram…as there was no international phone line in those days), he withdrew from the Boxing Day test match against South Africa…but, despite his grief, he went on to play in the match. Since then, his story and his "true Kiwi courage" has been celebrated in New Zealand cricket folklore. The end of the film shows him scoring 6 runs (a big deal in cricket) for New Zealand, and he sees a vision of Nerissa, smiling at him, and giving him a mock salute (as she did when she saw him off on the boat to South Africa). I had been blubbering away a fair bit up til then- but that bit really set me over the edge. :(
So yeah…even though I only saw the second half, what I saw was beautiful, both in the scripting and cinematography. I will admit I wasn't overly moved by the cricket-related scenes (except the bit at the end), as I'm no great lover of cricket. But, there were some scenes that, while quite simple and understated, really yanked at the old heartstrings: such as Bob and Nerissa saying goodbye when he boards the boat, Nerissa hugging her Dad goodbye and wishing him "Merry Christmas" (and you can see in his eyes he's completely powerless to stop her from getting on the train :(), the Christmas hymn "O Holy Night" playing as rescuers try to retrieve people from the river, the train guard, also a friend of Nerissa's, cradling her muddied body and being comforted by a local Maori woman, Nerissa's mother placing a rose between her daughter's hands (wearing her engagement ring) as she lies in her coffin, the local Maori people praying over the river a few days after the accident…all beautiful; all heartbreaking. The scenes with the passengers struggling to break out of the carriages were also fantastic- and, trite though it sounds, definitely captured the feelings of claustrophia and sheer terror and the water poured through the windows, and people desperately clambered over each other to get to safety…or not. :(
I didn't see many of the scenes between Bob and Nerissa…but one of the more wrenching scenes came during the end credits. Nerissa sent Bob a letter she wrote from the train (delivered at one of the resting points before the crash), saying that they should get married the moment he returns from South Africa, and that she didn't want to wait for her parents' blessing. She is listening to one of the test games on the radio from the train, and writes "Oh- you just got another wicket! Could I be more proud of you?" The final shots shows Bob opening the letter, which he's finally received after the crash, reading with Nerissa's voice playing his head, and planting a kiss on the paper. You guessed it- I cried even harder. :(
So, in short, the film left a bit of a handprint...and it's been on my mind for most of the day. Hmmm...it bothers me sometimes that I get so emotionally involved in movies and TV programmes that they take over my entire headspace for several days afterwards - particular disaster-themed movies. I mean, shit- live in this fraught, stressful, media-saturated world is hard enough, without me filling my head with 50-year-old rail disasters and doomed love affairs, right?
Then again, I've always had this weird obsession with disasters: when we lived in the UK when I was nine, we studied disasters at social studies in school (such as the Titanic, the Hindenburg, Pompeii, the Irish potato famine, the collapse of the Tay Bridge)...and I got completely hooked . I'd spend hours pouring over encylopedias (this was before the internet took off), researching disasters, each more horrific than the last. Mum even got my Nana to mail us over information from the Nelson library about New Zealand disasters (which is when I first read about the Tangiwai disaster), which fuelled my obsession further. My nine-year-old self was heartbroken by all these staggering losses of life- but, somehow, I just couldn't get enough.
I also remember being about 14, and watching a TV-movie called "Who Will Save The Children" about a group of teenagers who got caught in flood waters when the river nearby their summer camp flooded (also based on a true story), several of whom drowned. And, I didn't cry. I *howled*. As, in I was just about dry retching from crying so hard. I could have easily just have switched channels and watched something a bit cheerier...or worked on whatever homework assignments I had. But no. I just *had* to keep watching. I could have done the same thing during "Tangiwai"- could have switched over to watch Will Smith lolloping around as a drunken superhero TV2, for example. But no. Had to keep watching; had to keep weeping. Meh. Just addicted to catharsis, I guess.
To be honest...I've found myself even more sensitive to disasters (if that's even possible!) since Matt and I have been together. There have been a few recent disasters that have really got under my skin (the Christchurch earthquake, in particular, but that got under everyone's)...and the thing that was most on my mind after the earthquake was not, “shit, there's going to be a massive fuck-off earthquake and I'm going to die!!!!”, as it was when I was a teenger...but how the hell would I get back to Matt, with phonelines down, no cellphone coverage, the roads all mashed up, water mains burst, glass and bodies scattered all through the CBD...and how would I know where he was, and if he was even alive. Blah blah blah melodrama.
So anyway. I think that's what got to me about last night's film- Bob and Nerissa's story. Of course, there's the usual knowing I'd be fucking devastated if I were to lose Matt in an accident- in a train wreck, an earthquake, a car crash, by drowning, in a stampede of angry rhinos...whatever. And I remember what Matt and I were like in the early stages of our relationship (and I don't think Bob and Nerissa were together all that long before he proposed)- young, hopeful, giddy, madly in love, full of dreams, making all these big plans, not giving a fuck about anyone else. Very much like Bob and Nerissa when they got engaged, when he played in South Africa and when she died at Tangiwai.
Just before, I thought about Nerissa boarding the train, so desperate to meet Bob off the boat, counting down the minutes before she saw him again. Not wanting to spend a single second away from him. I remember when I went on my overseas trip almost exactly three years ago, and Matt and I had only been together a very short time. I missed him dreadfully and, several times, I came very close to cutting my trip short, and jumping on the next plane for home. I thought of Nerissa, writing to Bob from her train carriage, listening to him kick ass in the cricket...and I thought of me, on a flight between New York and London, listening to music Matt introduced me to, writing him a postcard, telling him about "Avenue Q", and the Met, and rambling through Central Park, and Coney Island and the bagels and the pizza, and how I was going to take him there one day, and how much I loved and missed him, and....
Yeah. Stopping this now. Posts like this remind me why I have the "Ezza, You're An Arse" tag. It's ok- I made it home, the plane didn't crash, no-one died, Matt and I are considering New York for our honeymoon, and I am officially a sentimental twat.
Anyway. It was a great film, it had a pretty profound effect on me, and New Zealand broadcasting FTW. Here is the official website for the film, which has a trailer, a photo gallery and info on the cast and crew. If you recognise the young woman playing Nerissa, she played the younger sister in "The Lovely Bones". Oh, and this song played at the end, when Bob scored his 6 and saw the vision of Nerissa. I usually find Gin Wigmore's music exceedingly irritating- but there was something eerily beautiful about this song. The line "I already caught the death train" gave me serious chills...
Right. Knitting. I do not expect any of you to read all of that...but thanks for making it this far, and putting up with my sugary waffling. Hopefully you'll get to see some quality kiwi television out of all this...
Might write a poem.