(no subject)
Tomorrow I knuckle down and Get Some Work Done, but today I've a few reflections on the stuff I've been chilling out & watching since the end of term:
Doctor Who
It's not Matt Smith's fault. He's a great actor who's done some stellar work on the show; but because of the scripts he's been given, he'll be remembered most for being a creep. For being a mouthpiece for Moffatt's problems with women.
To be honest, this bothers me to the extent that I'm hoping for fan-edits before I'll want to go back and re-watch the Clara episodes. And I always re-watch New Who, often marathoning it for full immersiveness. But I can't face doing that after "hell in high heels" and "the legs" and "don't let him see you age" and "a woman" and touching Clara while she sleeps and "naked!" and all the other things that I've probably forgotten in self-defence.
There is so much I've loved about Eleven's era! The Ponds (whether that's just Amy and Rory, a glorious OT3, or the whole family unit). Jenny and Vastra ("I'm a lizard woman from the dawn of time and this is my wife"). Gaiman's episodes. The way the plots all tie up, even though sometimes the cleverness is too smug or too thrown-away. But I can't ignore the misogyny any more; it's no longer a few OOC Moffatisms that I can circumlegate, it's become integral to Eleven's characterisation. And that makes me very sad.
Tipping the Velvet
Oh, now, this takes me back! It's so much more melodramatic than I remember, probably due to the fact that I was a teenager when I first watched it. It's a pantomime, really, the whole thing; in the oldest and bawdiest sense of the word. (The media were obsessed with this show when it first aired - with a particular focus on the fact that we (*gasp*!) see a strap-on dildo.)
It's a little discomfiting to watch through the episodes - episode one, the theatre! episode two, kink! episode three, socialism! - and realise how much this show is me. I first saw it so long ago that today when
shortcipher called it "Emma-bait" I had to question which came first, the Emma or the bait! Because really, this is one of the things that built my queer identity, along with But, I'm a Cheerleader and Velvet Goldmine and Rocky Horror.
(It's also perturbing to remember that I used to think Nan's choice at the end was hard to make, and to question if she'd even made the right decision. Teenagers, eh?)
Well worth a re-watch, though, I'd say. Once I'd managed to stop cringing at the use of camera effects and voiceover repetition to convey emotional turmoil, I still found it as moving - as joyful and as tragic - as it ever was. And the queer family unit stuff at the end: I feel like I really get that, for the first time, perhaps.
Originally posted at http://sebastienne.dreamwidth.org/55579.html.
comments.
You can comment there using your LiveJournal, Facebook, or Google credentials as an OpenID.
Doctor Who
It's not Matt Smith's fault. He's a great actor who's done some stellar work on the show; but because of the scripts he's been given, he'll be remembered most for being a creep. For being a mouthpiece for Moffatt's problems with women.
To be honest, this bothers me to the extent that I'm hoping for fan-edits before I'll want to go back and re-watch the Clara episodes. And I always re-watch New Who, often marathoning it for full immersiveness. But I can't face doing that after "hell in high heels" and "the legs" and "don't let him see you age" and "a woman" and touching Clara while she sleeps and "naked!" and all the other things that I've probably forgotten in self-defence.
There is so much I've loved about Eleven's era! The Ponds (whether that's just Amy and Rory, a glorious OT3, or the whole family unit). Jenny and Vastra ("I'm a lizard woman from the dawn of time and this is my wife"). Gaiman's episodes. The way the plots all tie up, even though sometimes the cleverness is too smug or too thrown-away. But I can't ignore the misogyny any more; it's no longer a few OOC Moffatisms that I can circumlegate, it's become integral to Eleven's characterisation. And that makes me very sad.
Tipping the Velvet
Oh, now, this takes me back! It's so much more melodramatic than I remember, probably due to the fact that I was a teenager when I first watched it. It's a pantomime, really, the whole thing; in the oldest and bawdiest sense of the word. (The media were obsessed with this show when it first aired - with a particular focus on the fact that we (*gasp*!) see a strap-on dildo.)
It's a little discomfiting to watch through the episodes - episode one, the theatre! episode two, kink! episode three, socialism! - and realise how much this show is me. I first saw it so long ago that today when
shortcipher called it "Emma-bait" I had to question which came first, the Emma or the bait! Because really, this is one of the things that built my queer identity, along with But, I'm a Cheerleader and Velvet Goldmine and Rocky Horror.
(It's also perturbing to remember that I used to think Nan's choice at the end was hard to make, and to question if she'd even made the right decision. Teenagers, eh?)
Well worth a re-watch, though, I'd say. Once I'd managed to stop cringing at the use of camera effects and voiceover repetition to convey emotional turmoil, I still found it as moving - as joyful and as tragic - as it ever was. And the queer family unit stuff at the end: I feel like I really get that, for the first time, perhaps.
Originally posted at http://sebastienne.dreamwidth.org/55579.html.
comments.
You can comment there using your LiveJournal, Facebook, or Google credentials as an OpenID.