Stor(m)y Weather...
Had on an Epic Film of Epic Epicness this evening, while grading and trying to relax a bit. And when I saw "Epic," I mean in this case Bollywood, which can really pretty much out-epic anything it sets its mind to. In this particular film, the main plot revolves around the fact that the older (adopted) son of a super-rich upper-class Indian family falls madly, crazily in love with a girl from a much lower social background. The lead actor did a fantastic, fantastic job of playing a guy who is utterly twitterpated AND completely knows what he wants and is kind of cheerfully ruthlessly flirty about it. So, that's going to lurk in my head and generate plots, I'm quite sure.
And then... ok, so, obviously, the father flips the heck out over the fact that his son has fallen for a girl who is Not The Right Sort-- and this after a first act full of the father being all about Tradition and Family and Honor and Duty and Arranged Marriages and so on, and quelling his wife whenever she tried to broach the idea that possibly arranging a marriage for their eldest without saying "boo" to him about it first was not a good plan. Thing is? Every time that the father got cranky and started going off about Tradition and Family and So On, there were these ominous rumbles of dramatic thunder in the background.
Which meant, of course, that when he had an enormous and dramatic hissy-fit about the son bringing the girl into the family and started going off about "will she understand our family, will she understand our rites, our rituals, our customs," with thunder rumbling louder in the background, all I could think was, "Son, we're an ancient clan of weather demons! You KNOW that randomly marrying mortal women never goes well for us! Look at your great-uncle!"
And then... ok, so, obviously, the father flips the heck out over the fact that his son has fallen for a girl who is Not The Right Sort-- and this after a first act full of the father being all about Tradition and Family and Honor and Duty and Arranged Marriages and so on, and quelling his wife whenever she tried to broach the idea that possibly arranging a marriage for their eldest without saying "boo" to him about it first was not a good plan. Thing is? Every time that the father got cranky and started going off about Tradition and Family and So On, there were these ominous rumbles of dramatic thunder in the background.
Which meant, of course, that when he had an enormous and dramatic hissy-fit about the son bringing the girl into the family and started going off about "will she understand our family, will she understand our rites, our rituals, our customs," with thunder rumbling louder in the background, all I could think was, "Son, we're an ancient clan of weather demons! You KNOW that randomly marrying mortal women never goes well for us! Look at your great-uncle!"