One more exam between me and freedom!
My post-exam celebration. It's still playing at quite a few theaters in the Northern VA area.
I don't know if I've said this before, but this book was the first to make me cry since I was nine or ten and Beth March died, and everything I read for a long time after was bland.
I don't usually enjoy movies of my favorite books (exceptions: the Branagh Hamlet, despite its cheesy moments, and the BBC Pride and Prejudice, which has no cheesy moments whatsoever). I realized soon after seeing the Narnia movie that it's not because I think the movies aren't good -- they often are. But I used to have my own versions of Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy in my heads, and as soon as I saw the movie they were gone. My mental representation of the Pevensie children is entirely taken over by what they looked like in the theater, and I can't get the original back.
From a theory standpoint: a good author engages the reader in the co-creation of the story; a good director imposes his interpretation of the story on the viewer so distinctly and subtly that it replaces previous interpretation.
Dangerous, that.