Several years ago, I had the distinct pleasure of watching Miss Potter,
an enchanting biopic detailing the early publishing life of beloved
children’s book author Beatrix Potter. I’d always loved her stories, but
this film gave me a better idea of who she was as a person. I loved her
spirit, her artistic drive and her conservationist fervor, and I was
utterly touched by the deep friendship she shared with her publisher,
Norman Warne, the childlike young man who would ultimately propose
marriage to her. This chaste but intense relationship unfolds
beautifully upon the screen, and echoes of it resonate throughout The Tale of Hill Top Farm, the first in a series of novels by Susan Wittig Albert that explores Beatrix’s life in England’s Lake District.
While
the plots and most of the characters are invented for the series, the
books use the contours of Beatrix’s life as a framework, and in this
first book, Norman is still very much on Beatrix’s mind. The story is
tinged with sadness because Beatrix is attempting to rebuild her life in
the wake of his sudden death from a severe illness. Sometimes, the
agony of her solitude nearly immobilizes her, as does regret over her
failure to stand up to her disapproving parents, which could have
allowed her a bit more precious time with Norman. Albert writes movingly
of Beatrix’s struggle to get on with her life, particularly in the
second chapter, when Beatrix reflects upon “Gentle Norman, whom she had
loved with all the fierce, pent-up passion of a heart that had long ago
despaired of loving or being loved.”
She also explores her
devotion and bereavement through another character, Beatrix’s pet mouse
Tom Thumb, who lost his wife, Hunca Munca, in an accident the year
before. Of course, his feelings are not quite so deep as Beatrix’s, as
we discover rather comically the first time he comes into contact with
another mouse. But Tom is distraught enough to elicit sympathy from his
perceptive owner.
Just as Miss Potter included
understated animation to give us the sense of the way the animals she
drew came alive for Beatrix, Albert incorporates animals organically as
well. Many of them are meant to be animals Beatrix based her book
characters on, and she has some fun setting up contrasts between the
animals’ personalities or physical features and those of their fictional
counterparts. Some chapters focus exclusively upon these animals, whose
dialogue is all rendered in italics, a simple but effective way to help
readers keep track of whether the speaker is an animal or a “Big
Person,” as they call the humans. They are also present throughout the
rest of the novel, commenting on the conversation of village residents
and wishing they could make themselves understood. Some of my favorite
parts of this first book involve the animals finding clever ways to help
Jeremy, a sensitive, artistic child who has been falsely accused of
stealing by his ill-tempered teacher.
Most likely, some people
will find the integration of the animals annoying or feel that it takes
them out of the story, but in my case, it drew me in more, and it was
fun to see the differing perspectives on the same event. The human
characters are enjoyable as well, though I found myself a bit
overwhelmed by them. This is one of those tiny towns like Mitford or Ballykissangel
where a host of colorful residents reside and everyone knows each
other. Albert helpfully provides a glossary of characters, mentioning
both humans and animals and indicating those that actually existed, but I
still got a little bogged down at first. I’m sure this will get better
as the books go along, since this one is so much about establishing the
various characters. My favorites include the independent-minded Dimity
Woodcock, who lives with her bachelor brother, a Justice of the Peace;
Samuel Sackett, the mild-mannered vicar who does his best to keep the
peace among the sometimes contentious townspeople; strong-willed Bertha
Stubbs, who has a habit of accidentally inventing words in her attempts
to be grandiloquent; and the aforementioned Jeremy, a thoroughly
charming child. Then, of course, there is shy solicitor William Heelis,
one of the few real-life characters and the man Beatrix would eventually
marry.
Albert uses over-the-shoulder narration that flits from
one person to the next, so meandering through the novel feels a lot like
listening to one of Garrison Keillor’s
tales from Lake Wobegon. We focus on one character, then another, then
another, and by the time we get back to the first character we’ve
half-forgotten what he or she was doing. But, as with Keillor, I was
mostly too busy getting swept away to notice, even though few really
extraordinary things happen. It’s a sleepy plot punctuated by a few
exclamation point moments.
Albert lives in Texas, but her use of
English speech patterns feels authentic, and her descriptions of the
lush countryside are enough to make me want to book a trip there. While
we spend so much time in other characters’ heads that I’m not sure it
would be entirely accurate to call Beatrix the central character in this
novel, the author does take particular care when writing about this
spunky but reserved artist-storyteller in her early 30s who is looking
for a fresh start. A woman with a sharp sense of humor but a
compassionate spirit, Beatrix is very easy to latch onto, and I found
myself empathizing with her often.
I grew up with Peter Rabbit, Jemima Puddle-Duck, Jeremy Fisher and
so many other wonderful Beatrix Potter characters, and Beatrix herself
is someone I relate to in many ways. Even though this first volume
spends more time on background and character set-up than plot, I enjoyed
it very much and look forward to visiting with Beatrix again soon.
Showing posts with label Beatrix Potter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beatrix Potter. Show all posts
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My 14 Favorite Movie Kisses (Plus a Couple From TV)
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, a holiday that compelled me to watch a
sappy movie or two. Then I came here to Epinions, and I revisited a list
that my good friend Beth
compiled of her favorite movie kisses. When she first published it, I
said I’d have to compose a similar list soon, but I never did, so I’m
doing it now. Of course, I’m terrible at coming up with lists like this
because every time I think I’ve got it figured out, I think of another
movie or ten that I need to add to the list. But here, in chronological
order, is my not-at-all definitive list of 14 favorite movie kisses – a
couple of which aren’t technically kisses, but feel like them – followed
by my favorite miniseries kiss and TV series kiss.
"Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes on this lovely belle notte." - Lady and the Tramp (1955)
The spaghetti kiss. Accidental, and only lasting seconds, but incredibly sweet. Sheltered, elegant Lady and rough-and-tumble Tramp are enjoying a night out on the town, and for my money, this may be the most romantic dinner scene in movie history. The fact that they are dogs makes it all the more romantic, especially when Tramp nudges the last meatball her way. Anybody with a dog could tell you what a remarkable gesture this is...
“You can’t… marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.” - The Sound of Music (1965)
When I think of impactful movie kisses, this one almost always comes to mind first. The Sound of Music is such a perfect movie, with the romantic tension between Captain Von Trapp and Maria stretched out just enough to make us really cheer for the moment when they finally confess their love for each other. The scene is just so beautifully done, especially that instant when the eyes get all misty and the oh-so-composed captain reveals the extent of his vulnerability. And though the two are truly alone together for one of the first times in the movie, within that first blissful kiss are wrapped up a love of the Captain’s children, of the nuns who are Maria’s family and of the God who guides them both. Just beautiful.
“Look to me, reaching out to show as sure as rivers flow, I’ll never let you go…” - Pete’s Dragon (1977)
Up until a couple months ago, if you were to ask me to name my favorite Disney love song, I would, without reservation, say Candle on the Water from Pete’s Dragon, even though we don’t meet the object of Nora’s affections until the end of the movie, even though it’s not the film’s main focus. Ever since Tangled, it ties with I See the Light, a song of romantic awakening – and I can’t help finding it funny that my two favorite Disney love songs both use light on the water as the central metaphor. But Candle on the Water is all about steadfast devotion, about keeping the faith against all odds. Nora does, and when her faith is finally rewarded, what an embrace awaits!
“When he comes back, I won’t get in the way.” “Oh, Han, it isn’t like that at all. He’s my brother.” - The Return of the Jedi (1983)
When they first met, roguish Han Solo and haughty Leia Organa didn’t much like each other. By the second movie, they’d gained some respect for each other, but Han still had a major self-serving streak, and he had it coming when Leia called him a “stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking Nerfherder” before kissing Luke. Leia and Luke don’t have the tumultuous kind of relationship she and Han do, and they share a deep psychic bond. Of course, early in the third movie, we learn that Luke and Leia are siblings, but poor Han, who is finally learning to live for someone other than himself, remains in the dark. While he’s fighting alongside Leia for Luke’s sake, he still views him as a romantic rival, and a clean-cut hero probably better suited to a princess. So the look on his face at the end of the trilogy when Leia laughs off his blessing to go with Luke, the slow shift from disappointment to confusion to blissful incredulity as she kisses him and reveals that Luke is her brother, is absolutely priceless.
“Since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.” – The Princess Bride (1987)
Well, the quote about says it all about Westley and Buttercup, doesn’t it? Here’s a couple who endured, among other things, presumed death, actual death, lengthy separation, quicksand, kidnapping, unusually sized rodents, torture and marriage to a pompous prince with a nose for iocaine powder. A couple whose love is so epic, so profound, that even a skeptical pre-adolescent boy doesn’t mind hearing about that one last kiss assuring that nothing will ever come between them again. After all, this is true love; you think this happens every day?
“It’s amazing, Molly, the love inside… You take it with you.” - Ghost (1990)
No, not the famous scene that my dad speculates caused enrollment in pottery classes to skyrocket. I’m talking about the final scene in the movie, when Sam has finally ensured Molly’s safety and is ready to move on. Suddenly, Molly can see with her own eyes what the eccentric Oda Mae has been telling her all along: that Sam is there. And finally they can speak one last time, without an intermediary. When Sam, engulfed in light, kisses the stunned Molly, it’s a moment at once joyful and melancholy, made inexpressibly more poignant by the celestial orchestral arrangement of Unchained Melody, one of my favorite pieces of movie music ever.
“Please don’t leave me. I love you!” – Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Who could ever learn to love a Beast? Belle, the noblest and deepest of the Disney princesses, could, and the extent of her regard for this man too long enslaved by his own selfishness carried the power to save a life and transform a kingdom. Granted, it’s a rather crummy stipulation that she must actually state the words; it was clear that she loved him when she left the castle to find her father. Was there ever any doubt that she would return once she had restored him to health? But then we wouldn’t have this climactic moment that so dramatically illustrates the power of love to bring light forth from darkness.
“It was the happiest moment of my life.” - Forrest Gump (1994)
Forrest and Jenny, bosom buddies since the age of five, do share kisses in the movie, but it’s this hug to end all hugs that best conveys the vastness of their regard for each other. As thousands of riled-up protesters look on, Jenny wades into the Reflecting Pool looking like Mary Travers and Forrest, sharp as a tack in his freshly decorated uniform, leaps into the crowd and does what he does best – runs. Right into the waiting arms of the woman for whom his love has never wavered, and never will. And the crowd goes wild. In that moment, this vagabond who’s already seen so much of the worst the world has to offer is genuinely as happy to see this man who has only ever shown her kindness as he is to see her. No kiss could trump the affection encapsulated in this moment.
“I come here with no expectation, only to declare, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours.” - Sense and Sensibility (1995)
The kiss we didn’t see. When I read Sense and Sensibility, I was disappointed that we didn’t really get to see Edward and Elinor’s big moment first-hand. We spent most of the book leading up to it, and then it felt rather glossed over. Emma Thompson’s brilliant screenplay fixes that for us, and Hugh Grant is at his most adorable as he bumbles his way through his earnest declaration of love. It’s enough for us to see unflappable Elinor a mangled mess of laughter and sobs before the demure cutaway. But I am free to imagine the kiss that followed, and I imagine that it was a doozy.
“When was the last time you were decently kissed? I mean truly, truly, good and kissed?” - That Thing You Do! (1996)
I couldn’t leave Erie’s little claim to fame off the list, even if the lovebirds decide to remain in California instead of returning to these frosty shores. In this Tom Hanks-helmed charmer about a one-hit wonder band that starts out in Erie, fresh-faced 20-something Guy is a percussionist passionate about music. He’s also a deeply devoted friend to Faye, the neglected girlfriend of bandleader Jimmy. Throughout the film, he attends to her when Jimmy does not, and it’s obvious that he genuinely cares about her. After Jimmy takes his self-absorption one step too far, the band falls apart and Guy thinks the dream is over. But when he sees Faye sitting alone, preparing to return to her old life, he realizes that a new dream is just beginning.
“You saw me when I was invisible.” – The Princess Diaries (2001)
Ah, the foot-popping kiss. It’s such a Disney sort of moment, with the princess and her true love locking lips for the first time. In this instance, it isn’t quite the first kiss for Mia, who only recently was a gangly geek used to getting stomped on by nearly everyone in school, but it’s the first one that means something. Like Mia, I’ve always imagined my first kiss being something magical, with the orchestra in my heart, to borrow a term from Pushing Daisies, playing at full volume. But whatever the circumstances, I would want to share it with someone who, like Mia’s sweet admirer here, appreciates me for who I am, with all my kooky quirks.
“But I don’t understand. I was supposed to be beautiful.” “You are beautiful.” – Shrek (2001)
As much as I love Beauty and the Beast, I also love the scene in Shrek in which Fiona does not transform. Shrek already looks like a beast, and by night, Fiona does too. But the ogre is her true form, and she does not need the conventional beauty afforded her by the human princess body in order for Shrek to deem her beautiful. It’s really a lovely subversion of a fairy tale I adore that ultimately makes the same point: that true beauty is more than just skin deep.
“You wanna know a secret? … You’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.” - 13 Going on 30 (2004)
I saw this movie for the first time in October of 2005, when I was coming off a very depressing period and moving into a very fruitful one. Maybe it was partly my giddy state of mind at the time, but this movie threw me for a loop. I expected a light little romcom, but it took hold of me completely, touching me far more profoundly than I would have expected. “Well,” I thought, “that’s what love is all about.” It’s a shame that the movie’s most memorable kiss occurs when Matt, the childhood chum of Jennifer Garner’s teen-in-adult-skin Jenna, is engaged, but these two feel so right together that I can’t deny them that perfect moment, after which, she tells her teenage confidantes at a slumber party soon afterward, she “floated home on a cloud”. All I can do is long for the clock to reset so that Jenna can reclaim those lost years and treat the best friend she ever had with the respect and love he so richly deserves.
“Other lights may light my way; I may even find romance. But I won't forget that night when you taught me how to dance.” - Miss Potter (2006)
I’d half-forgotten this moment until Beth mentioned it on her list, but there’s something so incredibly sweet about the awkward, gradual courtship between confirmed spinster Beatrix and her starry-eyed young publisher Norman. It’s such a wonderfully touching love story, tragically cut short. If this movie is any indication – and given the restrictions that surrounded Beatrix under the care of her stuffy parents, it wouldn’t surprise me much – the two shared just one kiss, at once chaste and passionate, before they were torn apart for what was meant to be merely a brief separation. Wrenching.
*
”I don’t want diamond sunbursts or marble halls. I just want you.” - Anne of Avonlea (1987)
When I think of Gilbert Blythe, the first word that comes to mind is “patient”. In Kevin Sullivan’s brilliant pair of miniseries (we won’t go into the two that followed), it takes all of Anne of Green Gables just to get Anne to fully forgive him for the egregious offense of teasing her about her hair way back when they first met. He bends over backwards to try to win her friendship, and she stubbornly brushes him aside. In Anne of Avonlea, they’re friends, but Anne has her ideals of romance, and boy-next-door Gilbert doesn’t fit them. His proposal horrifies her – and her refusal horrifies just about every gal watching at home. It takes an extended separation, a proposal from a man who fits her dream profile and Gilbert’s near-death from illness to make Anne finally appreciate what she should have had all along. The kiss is understated; the catharsis isn’t.
*
“I love you, Penny… and I’ll never leave you again.” - There’s No Place Like Home, Part 3, LOST (2008)
And speaking of unions a long time in coming, I had to mention the epic romance that swept so many LOST fans off their feet. The season two finale of the trippy, emotional island drama introduced viewers to Penelope Widmore, the daughter of a wealthy businessman and the one true love of Desmond Hume, the Scotsman stranded on the Island for three years. Throughout the third and fourth seasons, we saw the trials they weathered and the lengths to which both were willing to go to finally reunite. Their first contact, by phone, after years apart remains one of the most brilliantly written and acted scenes in the series. In fact, I still rank it as my favorite Desmond and Penny moment. But when they finally physically reunite in the season four finale after two long seasons of build-up, the ecstasy in that reunion lip-lock may just be enough to nudge Westley and Buttercup from their exalted position.
So, there you have it: a collection of my favorite cinematic kisses, to which many could no doubt be added. What are some of yours?
"Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes on this lovely belle notte." - Lady and the Tramp (1955)
The spaghetti kiss. Accidental, and only lasting seconds, but incredibly sweet. Sheltered, elegant Lady and rough-and-tumble Tramp are enjoying a night out on the town, and for my money, this may be the most romantic dinner scene in movie history. The fact that they are dogs makes it all the more romantic, especially when Tramp nudges the last meatball her way. Anybody with a dog could tell you what a remarkable gesture this is...
“You can’t… marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.” - The Sound of Music (1965)
When I think of impactful movie kisses, this one almost always comes to mind first. The Sound of Music is such a perfect movie, with the romantic tension between Captain Von Trapp and Maria stretched out just enough to make us really cheer for the moment when they finally confess their love for each other. The scene is just so beautifully done, especially that instant when the eyes get all misty and the oh-so-composed captain reveals the extent of his vulnerability. And though the two are truly alone together for one of the first times in the movie, within that first blissful kiss are wrapped up a love of the Captain’s children, of the nuns who are Maria’s family and of the God who guides them both. Just beautiful.
“Look to me, reaching out to show as sure as rivers flow, I’ll never let you go…” - Pete’s Dragon (1977)
Up until a couple months ago, if you were to ask me to name my favorite Disney love song, I would, without reservation, say Candle on the Water from Pete’s Dragon, even though we don’t meet the object of Nora’s affections until the end of the movie, even though it’s not the film’s main focus. Ever since Tangled, it ties with I See the Light, a song of romantic awakening – and I can’t help finding it funny that my two favorite Disney love songs both use light on the water as the central metaphor. But Candle on the Water is all about steadfast devotion, about keeping the faith against all odds. Nora does, and when her faith is finally rewarded, what an embrace awaits!
“When he comes back, I won’t get in the way.” “Oh, Han, it isn’t like that at all. He’s my brother.” - The Return of the Jedi (1983)
When they first met, roguish Han Solo and haughty Leia Organa didn’t much like each other. By the second movie, they’d gained some respect for each other, but Han still had a major self-serving streak, and he had it coming when Leia called him a “stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking Nerfherder” before kissing Luke. Leia and Luke don’t have the tumultuous kind of relationship she and Han do, and they share a deep psychic bond. Of course, early in the third movie, we learn that Luke and Leia are siblings, but poor Han, who is finally learning to live for someone other than himself, remains in the dark. While he’s fighting alongside Leia for Luke’s sake, he still views him as a romantic rival, and a clean-cut hero probably better suited to a princess. So the look on his face at the end of the trilogy when Leia laughs off his blessing to go with Luke, the slow shift from disappointment to confusion to blissful incredulity as she kisses him and reveals that Luke is her brother, is absolutely priceless.
“Since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.” – The Princess Bride (1987)
Well, the quote about says it all about Westley and Buttercup, doesn’t it? Here’s a couple who endured, among other things, presumed death, actual death, lengthy separation, quicksand, kidnapping, unusually sized rodents, torture and marriage to a pompous prince with a nose for iocaine powder. A couple whose love is so epic, so profound, that even a skeptical pre-adolescent boy doesn’t mind hearing about that one last kiss assuring that nothing will ever come between them again. After all, this is true love; you think this happens every day?
“It’s amazing, Molly, the love inside… You take it with you.” - Ghost (1990)
No, not the famous scene that my dad speculates caused enrollment in pottery classes to skyrocket. I’m talking about the final scene in the movie, when Sam has finally ensured Molly’s safety and is ready to move on. Suddenly, Molly can see with her own eyes what the eccentric Oda Mae has been telling her all along: that Sam is there. And finally they can speak one last time, without an intermediary. When Sam, engulfed in light, kisses the stunned Molly, it’s a moment at once joyful and melancholy, made inexpressibly more poignant by the celestial orchestral arrangement of Unchained Melody, one of my favorite pieces of movie music ever.
“Please don’t leave me. I love you!” – Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Who could ever learn to love a Beast? Belle, the noblest and deepest of the Disney princesses, could, and the extent of her regard for this man too long enslaved by his own selfishness carried the power to save a life and transform a kingdom. Granted, it’s a rather crummy stipulation that she must actually state the words; it was clear that she loved him when she left the castle to find her father. Was there ever any doubt that she would return once she had restored him to health? But then we wouldn’t have this climactic moment that so dramatically illustrates the power of love to bring light forth from darkness.
“It was the happiest moment of my life.” - Forrest Gump (1994)
Forrest and Jenny, bosom buddies since the age of five, do share kisses in the movie, but it’s this hug to end all hugs that best conveys the vastness of their regard for each other. As thousands of riled-up protesters look on, Jenny wades into the Reflecting Pool looking like Mary Travers and Forrest, sharp as a tack in his freshly decorated uniform, leaps into the crowd and does what he does best – runs. Right into the waiting arms of the woman for whom his love has never wavered, and never will. And the crowd goes wild. In that moment, this vagabond who’s already seen so much of the worst the world has to offer is genuinely as happy to see this man who has only ever shown her kindness as he is to see her. No kiss could trump the affection encapsulated in this moment.
“I come here with no expectation, only to declare, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours.” - Sense and Sensibility (1995)
The kiss we didn’t see. When I read Sense and Sensibility, I was disappointed that we didn’t really get to see Edward and Elinor’s big moment first-hand. We spent most of the book leading up to it, and then it felt rather glossed over. Emma Thompson’s brilliant screenplay fixes that for us, and Hugh Grant is at his most adorable as he bumbles his way through his earnest declaration of love. It’s enough for us to see unflappable Elinor a mangled mess of laughter and sobs before the demure cutaway. But I am free to imagine the kiss that followed, and I imagine that it was a doozy.
“When was the last time you were decently kissed? I mean truly, truly, good and kissed?” - That Thing You Do! (1996)
I couldn’t leave Erie’s little claim to fame off the list, even if the lovebirds decide to remain in California instead of returning to these frosty shores. In this Tom Hanks-helmed charmer about a one-hit wonder band that starts out in Erie, fresh-faced 20-something Guy is a percussionist passionate about music. He’s also a deeply devoted friend to Faye, the neglected girlfriend of bandleader Jimmy. Throughout the film, he attends to her when Jimmy does not, and it’s obvious that he genuinely cares about her. After Jimmy takes his self-absorption one step too far, the band falls apart and Guy thinks the dream is over. But when he sees Faye sitting alone, preparing to return to her old life, he realizes that a new dream is just beginning.
“You saw me when I was invisible.” – The Princess Diaries (2001)
Ah, the foot-popping kiss. It’s such a Disney sort of moment, with the princess and her true love locking lips for the first time. In this instance, it isn’t quite the first kiss for Mia, who only recently was a gangly geek used to getting stomped on by nearly everyone in school, but it’s the first one that means something. Like Mia, I’ve always imagined my first kiss being something magical, with the orchestra in my heart, to borrow a term from Pushing Daisies, playing at full volume. But whatever the circumstances, I would want to share it with someone who, like Mia’s sweet admirer here, appreciates me for who I am, with all my kooky quirks.
“But I don’t understand. I was supposed to be beautiful.” “You are beautiful.” – Shrek (2001)
As much as I love Beauty and the Beast, I also love the scene in Shrek in which Fiona does not transform. Shrek already looks like a beast, and by night, Fiona does too. But the ogre is her true form, and she does not need the conventional beauty afforded her by the human princess body in order for Shrek to deem her beautiful. It’s really a lovely subversion of a fairy tale I adore that ultimately makes the same point: that true beauty is more than just skin deep.
“You wanna know a secret? … You’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.” - 13 Going on 30 (2004)
I saw this movie for the first time in October of 2005, when I was coming off a very depressing period and moving into a very fruitful one. Maybe it was partly my giddy state of mind at the time, but this movie threw me for a loop. I expected a light little romcom, but it took hold of me completely, touching me far more profoundly than I would have expected. “Well,” I thought, “that’s what love is all about.” It’s a shame that the movie’s most memorable kiss occurs when Matt, the childhood chum of Jennifer Garner’s teen-in-adult-skin Jenna, is engaged, but these two feel so right together that I can’t deny them that perfect moment, after which, she tells her teenage confidantes at a slumber party soon afterward, she “floated home on a cloud”. All I can do is long for the clock to reset so that Jenna can reclaim those lost years and treat the best friend she ever had with the respect and love he so richly deserves.
“Other lights may light my way; I may even find romance. But I won't forget that night when you taught me how to dance.” - Miss Potter (2006)
I’d half-forgotten this moment until Beth mentioned it on her list, but there’s something so incredibly sweet about the awkward, gradual courtship between confirmed spinster Beatrix and her starry-eyed young publisher Norman. It’s such a wonderfully touching love story, tragically cut short. If this movie is any indication – and given the restrictions that surrounded Beatrix under the care of her stuffy parents, it wouldn’t surprise me much – the two shared just one kiss, at once chaste and passionate, before they were torn apart for what was meant to be merely a brief separation. Wrenching.
*
”I don’t want diamond sunbursts or marble halls. I just want you.” - Anne of Avonlea (1987)
When I think of Gilbert Blythe, the first word that comes to mind is “patient”. In Kevin Sullivan’s brilliant pair of miniseries (we won’t go into the two that followed), it takes all of Anne of Green Gables just to get Anne to fully forgive him for the egregious offense of teasing her about her hair way back when they first met. He bends over backwards to try to win her friendship, and she stubbornly brushes him aside. In Anne of Avonlea, they’re friends, but Anne has her ideals of romance, and boy-next-door Gilbert doesn’t fit them. His proposal horrifies her – and her refusal horrifies just about every gal watching at home. It takes an extended separation, a proposal from a man who fits her dream profile and Gilbert’s near-death from illness to make Anne finally appreciate what she should have had all along. The kiss is understated; the catharsis isn’t.
*
“I love you, Penny… and I’ll never leave you again.” - There’s No Place Like Home, Part 3, LOST (2008)
And speaking of unions a long time in coming, I had to mention the epic romance that swept so many LOST fans off their feet. The season two finale of the trippy, emotional island drama introduced viewers to Penelope Widmore, the daughter of a wealthy businessman and the one true love of Desmond Hume, the Scotsman stranded on the Island for three years. Throughout the third and fourth seasons, we saw the trials they weathered and the lengths to which both were willing to go to finally reunite. Their first contact, by phone, after years apart remains one of the most brilliantly written and acted scenes in the series. In fact, I still rank it as my favorite Desmond and Penny moment. But when they finally physically reunite in the season four finale after two long seasons of build-up, the ecstasy in that reunion lip-lock may just be enough to nudge Westley and Buttercup from their exalted position.
So, there you have it: a collection of my favorite cinematic kisses, to which many could no doubt be added. What are some of yours?
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Mr. Jeremy Fisher and Beatrix Potter Persevere in the Face of Calamity
Frogs and toads are popular subjects of children’s books, and many of my
favorite fictional characters are slippery amphibians. One of the
earliest and most iconic is the protagonist of Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher.
Most of Potter’s characters are furry or feathery, so Mr. Fisher stands out as a bit of an oddball. While he is not an unpleasant fellow, he lurks in the chilly damp of a home near the pond where water is always underfoot, and his delicacies of choice veer a bit toward the icky. He is not warm and fuzzy, and I can’t help thinking that this clammy main character may have been a reflection of Potter’s state of mind at the time.
Mr. Fisher is an agreeable fellow. He doesn’t seek out mischief the way that Peter Rabbit does. But calamity finds him nonetheless, blind-siding him with such force that he scarcely thinks he can survive it. As this book was written in the wake of the sudden death of her fiance, Norman Warne, I imagine that this was exactly how she felt while writing it.
While the frog’s bleak surroundings, from the rainy weather to the roasted grasshopper that Potter speculates must have tasted “nasty,” convey a general sense of gloom, it’s his undeserved catastrophe that really seems to hit home. Mr. Fisher’s decision to persevere in the face of adversity, making the best of his situation and salvaging his afternoon by still having a dinner party, is a sign of Potter emerging from her grief to face the world again.
The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher is filled with very striking details and images. For instance, there are the frog’s friends, a newt named Isaac Newton and a tortoise named Alderman Ptolemy, who reflect Potter’s admiration for scientists. There’s his slightly creepy choice of a butterfly sandwich for lunch and the wonderful illustration of him floating down the pond, using a lily pad for a boat and a reed for an oar.
For every two pages, there are four pictures of the troublesome trout who afflicts the frog, one in each corner. He faces one direction on the left pages and another on the right, but otherwise, he is the same. For those who have read it previously, his presence provides a sense of foreboding early in the book, while afterwards, it goes to show that the incident will always remain etched in Mr. Fisher’s mind.
Each pair of pages features one page with a paragraph of text and another with a large picture set in a circle or oval. The paintings are intricately detailed, with an array of browns and greens the most prominent colors. The writing is elegant, and while it’s not a very long book, she does slip in some unusual words - or at least words likely to prove unusual to modern young American readers - like “macintosh,” “goloshes,” “bobbit” and “larder”.
The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher is a somewhat unusual book in the Potter canon. It’s a tale of woe and resilience in which the protagonist does nothing to invite his troubles but must face them anyway and make the decision to overcome them. That he does so offers a note of hope for all who have fallen upon difficult circumstances.
Most of Potter’s characters are furry or feathery, so Mr. Fisher stands out as a bit of an oddball. While he is not an unpleasant fellow, he lurks in the chilly damp of a home near the pond where water is always underfoot, and his delicacies of choice veer a bit toward the icky. He is not warm and fuzzy, and I can’t help thinking that this clammy main character may have been a reflection of Potter’s state of mind at the time.
Mr. Fisher is an agreeable fellow. He doesn’t seek out mischief the way that Peter Rabbit does. But calamity finds him nonetheless, blind-siding him with such force that he scarcely thinks he can survive it. As this book was written in the wake of the sudden death of her fiance, Norman Warne, I imagine that this was exactly how she felt while writing it.
While the frog’s bleak surroundings, from the rainy weather to the roasted grasshopper that Potter speculates must have tasted “nasty,” convey a general sense of gloom, it’s his undeserved catastrophe that really seems to hit home. Mr. Fisher’s decision to persevere in the face of adversity, making the best of his situation and salvaging his afternoon by still having a dinner party, is a sign of Potter emerging from her grief to face the world again.
The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher is filled with very striking details and images. For instance, there are the frog’s friends, a newt named Isaac Newton and a tortoise named Alderman Ptolemy, who reflect Potter’s admiration for scientists. There’s his slightly creepy choice of a butterfly sandwich for lunch and the wonderful illustration of him floating down the pond, using a lily pad for a boat and a reed for an oar.
For every two pages, there are four pictures of the troublesome trout who afflicts the frog, one in each corner. He faces one direction on the left pages and another on the right, but otherwise, he is the same. For those who have read it previously, his presence provides a sense of foreboding early in the book, while afterwards, it goes to show that the incident will always remain etched in Mr. Fisher’s mind.
Each pair of pages features one page with a paragraph of text and another with a large picture set in a circle or oval. The paintings are intricately detailed, with an array of browns and greens the most prominent colors. The writing is elegant, and while it’s not a very long book, she does slip in some unusual words - or at least words likely to prove unusual to modern young American readers - like “macintosh,” “goloshes,” “bobbit” and “larder”.
The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher is a somewhat unusual book in the Potter canon. It’s a tale of woe and resilience in which the protagonist does nothing to invite his troubles but must face them anyway and make the decision to overcome them. That he does so offers a note of hope for all who have fallen upon difficult circumstances.
Monday, August 17, 2009
2006 Delivers a Solid Pack of Movies With No Clear Stand-Out
The year 2006 was a busy one for my family, with one brother graduating
from college, another from high school, an international guest staying
for the summer and a cousin getting married. In the midst of all the
activity, we got around to watching a few movies - though the majority
of 2006 movies I’ve seen were watched later, thanks to Netflix. I don’t
know that I can identify a clear favorite among the films, but there
were several I enjoyed very much. These were my ten favorites.
Akeelah and the Bee - An uplifting movie about a young girl overcoming obstacles to compete in a national spelling bee. Keke Palmer is terrific as the young spelling whiz, while Laurence Fishburne shines as her determined mentor.
Cars - It’s hard to go wrong with Pixar, and Cars is one of my favorite of their films, particularly once we leave the frantic energy of the race track for the drowsy comfort of Radiator Springs, where dwell a colorful collection of automobiles, most of them weathered and rustic, none more so than Mater, a rickety, dim-witted, open-hearted tow truck voiced by Larry the Cable Guy. The characters are lovable, the animation glorious, the vision of a world populated exclusively with vehicles clever. Plus, it has Our Town, an original song by James Taylor, one of my favorite tunes to grace a Disney film in quite some time.
Charlotte's Web - The E. B. White classic was one of the first chapter books I ever read. I’d seen the cartoon many times but was excited for a live action version, and I was quite satisfied with the results. Dakota Fanning is wonderful as always, and the movie has a quiet charm to it most of the time that definitely does justice to the novel. Beautiful cinematography and a lovely theme song by Sarah McLaughlin help make this an exquisite movie.
The Holiday - I didn’t catch this one in the theater, but renting it made for a perfect cozy evening at home. I love the idea of switching houses for a few days or weeks; sounds like a grand way to take an exotic vacation. Here, it’s a workaholic American and a disgruntled Brit who exchange homes and lifestyles, leading each of them to romance and revelation. All four leads are likable, but Eli Wallach steals the show as an elderly screenwriting legend who bonds with Kate Winslet’s character.
Miss Potter - I tend not to be a big fan of Renee Zellweger, but I love her in this gentle biopic about feisty turn-of-the-century author Beatrix Potter. This movie focuses primarily on her beginnings in the writing business, when an enthusiastic young publisher played by an utterly endearing Ewan McGregor sees promise in the project his brothers saw as silly. Their business relationship blossoms into one of the sweetest love stories I’ve seen captured on film.
Nanny McPhee - Emma Thompson stars in this Mary Poppins-like tale of a nanny who tames a bunch of unruly children. She arrives, snaggle-toothed and intimidating, to help the harried single father played by Colin Firth; as her unusual disciplinary methods begin to have an effect, her appearance gradually changes for the better. A funny and tender fantasy.
Pan's Labyrinth - This dark but moving Spanish film written and directed by Guillermo del Toro delves into magical realism as it explores the story of a girl named Ofelia who seeks a fantastical inheritance while the world around her crumbles. Sergi Lopez is a horrific villain, but del Toro’s magnificent vision of Ofelia’s submerged kingdom and Ivana Baguero’s spirited performance as the young heroine, as well as Alex Angulo’s turn as a compassionate doctor, keep the film from getting bogged down in despair. This was the film I’d most hoped to see before the Oscars. I didn’t quite manage it, but when I did rent it I was able to get first-hand confirmation of what all those little gold statues had assured.
The Queen - It was a good year for biopics, and while Forrest Whitaker deserves equal recognition for his towering performance as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland, the horrors of that movie are such that I don’t think I could stomach another viewing. However, I’d be glad to return to Helen Mirren’s excellent performance as the restrained Queen Elizabeth II trying to wrap her head around the international outpouring of grief for Princess Diana. That incident made a big impression upon me, and it was fascinating to see it portrayed on film from the perspective of the Royal Family.
Superman Returns - I’ve always been a Superman fan, but my fondness for Clark Kent was dramatically refreshed when my brother got me hooked on Smallville in early 2006. Over the course of his last term of high school, we breezed through three seasons of the show, so when the new Superman movie hit theaters that summer, I was especially pumped. So we went to Tinseltown and bought tickets for opening night, and I went in my glow-in-the-dark Superman shirt and cheered as Superman saved the day yet again in a funny, touching, action-packed update.
We Are Marshall - I caught this one in the dollar theater, one of many films whose main draw was a LOST connection. In this case, it was Matthew Fox, who portrays one of the few surviving members of a college football team devastated by a plane crash. Fox is the brooding assistant coach, while Matthew McConaughey plays the enthusiastic newbie determined to rebuild the team practically from scratch. Meanwhile, as Marshall University’s president, David Strathairn fills a small role with great significance. This true tale of resilience in the face of tragedy is one of the best inspirational sports movies I’ve seen.
Well, there you have it. Of course, there are still a lot of major movies from 2006 that I haven’t seen, but what I saw was pretty impressive.
Akeelah and the Bee - An uplifting movie about a young girl overcoming obstacles to compete in a national spelling bee. Keke Palmer is terrific as the young spelling whiz, while Laurence Fishburne shines as her determined mentor.
Cars - It’s hard to go wrong with Pixar, and Cars is one of my favorite of their films, particularly once we leave the frantic energy of the race track for the drowsy comfort of Radiator Springs, where dwell a colorful collection of automobiles, most of them weathered and rustic, none more so than Mater, a rickety, dim-witted, open-hearted tow truck voiced by Larry the Cable Guy. The characters are lovable, the animation glorious, the vision of a world populated exclusively with vehicles clever. Plus, it has Our Town, an original song by James Taylor, one of my favorite tunes to grace a Disney film in quite some time.
Charlotte's Web - The E. B. White classic was one of the first chapter books I ever read. I’d seen the cartoon many times but was excited for a live action version, and I was quite satisfied with the results. Dakota Fanning is wonderful as always, and the movie has a quiet charm to it most of the time that definitely does justice to the novel. Beautiful cinematography and a lovely theme song by Sarah McLaughlin help make this an exquisite movie.
The Holiday - I didn’t catch this one in the theater, but renting it made for a perfect cozy evening at home. I love the idea of switching houses for a few days or weeks; sounds like a grand way to take an exotic vacation. Here, it’s a workaholic American and a disgruntled Brit who exchange homes and lifestyles, leading each of them to romance and revelation. All four leads are likable, but Eli Wallach steals the show as an elderly screenwriting legend who bonds with Kate Winslet’s character.
Miss Potter - I tend not to be a big fan of Renee Zellweger, but I love her in this gentle biopic about feisty turn-of-the-century author Beatrix Potter. This movie focuses primarily on her beginnings in the writing business, when an enthusiastic young publisher played by an utterly endearing Ewan McGregor sees promise in the project his brothers saw as silly. Their business relationship blossoms into one of the sweetest love stories I’ve seen captured on film.
Nanny McPhee - Emma Thompson stars in this Mary Poppins-like tale of a nanny who tames a bunch of unruly children. She arrives, snaggle-toothed and intimidating, to help the harried single father played by Colin Firth; as her unusual disciplinary methods begin to have an effect, her appearance gradually changes for the better. A funny and tender fantasy.
Pan's Labyrinth - This dark but moving Spanish film written and directed by Guillermo del Toro delves into magical realism as it explores the story of a girl named Ofelia who seeks a fantastical inheritance while the world around her crumbles. Sergi Lopez is a horrific villain, but del Toro’s magnificent vision of Ofelia’s submerged kingdom and Ivana Baguero’s spirited performance as the young heroine, as well as Alex Angulo’s turn as a compassionate doctor, keep the film from getting bogged down in despair. This was the film I’d most hoped to see before the Oscars. I didn’t quite manage it, but when I did rent it I was able to get first-hand confirmation of what all those little gold statues had assured.
The Queen - It was a good year for biopics, and while Forrest Whitaker deserves equal recognition for his towering performance as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland, the horrors of that movie are such that I don’t think I could stomach another viewing. However, I’d be glad to return to Helen Mirren’s excellent performance as the restrained Queen Elizabeth II trying to wrap her head around the international outpouring of grief for Princess Diana. That incident made a big impression upon me, and it was fascinating to see it portrayed on film from the perspective of the Royal Family.
Superman Returns - I’ve always been a Superman fan, but my fondness for Clark Kent was dramatically refreshed when my brother got me hooked on Smallville in early 2006. Over the course of his last term of high school, we breezed through three seasons of the show, so when the new Superman movie hit theaters that summer, I was especially pumped. So we went to Tinseltown and bought tickets for opening night, and I went in my glow-in-the-dark Superman shirt and cheered as Superman saved the day yet again in a funny, touching, action-packed update.
We Are Marshall - I caught this one in the dollar theater, one of many films whose main draw was a LOST connection. In this case, it was Matthew Fox, who portrays one of the few surviving members of a college football team devastated by a plane crash. Fox is the brooding assistant coach, while Matthew McConaughey plays the enthusiastic newbie determined to rebuild the team practically from scratch. Meanwhile, as Marshall University’s president, David Strathairn fills a small role with great significance. This true tale of resilience in the face of tragedy is one of the best inspirational sports movies I’ve seen.
Well, there you have it. Of course, there are still a lot of major movies from 2006 that I haven’t seen, but what I saw was pretty impressive.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Miss Potter: Long Before Harry, Beatrix Wove Her Magic
Over the summer, I was chatting with my grandma, and she told me that she had just seen a wonderful movie by the name of Miss Potter
and that I really ought to check it out when I got the chance. As it
happened, I already had intended to investigate the biopic of Beatrix
Potter, who's been a favorite of mine since I was introduced to Peter
Rabbit as a tender toddler, but the endorsement of my grandma, who
rarely enjoys movies, made me even more intrigued. Now that I've finally
watched it, I can emphatically echo her opinion.
Miss Potter, written by Richard Maltby Jr. and directed by Chris Noonan, introduces us to the lively, delightfully eccentric Beatrix (Renee Zellweger) as a woman in her early thirties who still lives with her encouraging father (Bill Patterson) and restrictive mother (Barbara Flynn), who insists she be accompanied constantly by an elderly chaperone. As the film opens, Beatrix's only friends are imaginary, an assortment of charming rabbits, ducks and other domestic farm animals that will look familiar to anyone who ever picked up one of her tiny volumes. We see them as she does, not relegated to the page as she has arranged them but taking on lives of their own, blinking their bright little eyes, twitching their wispy whiskers, waddling across the page with a cheeky flap of the wings. These characters become real to her, and she is determined to let the rest of the world fall in love with them as well.
Her task is not initially an easy one. Though she has honed her skills as an artist and storyteller for years, as we see in flashbacks to a childhood spent blissfully roaming the English countryside and entertaining her brother Bertram (Oliver Jenkins) with fanciful tales, her classic story about Peter Rabbit is met with a sniff and a sneer when she approaches the stuffy Warne brothers, Harold (Anton Lesser) and Fruing (David Bamber), about the possibility of publication. However, timing works to her favor, as their idealistic younger brother Norman (Ewan McGregor) has stated his desire to join the family business and they need a throwaway project to give him, since they doubt he will distinguish himself as a publisher.
Thus, a perfect partnership is born. For Norman sees all the enchantment in Beatrix's work that his brothers miss, and he intends to prove them wrong about the "bunny book" they would have cast aside. As the business relationship blooms into friendship, Norman introduces her to his mother (Phyllida Law), who is startled by Beatrix's spunk but taken with her nonetheless, and his sister Millie (Emily Watson), a free thinker who revels in her lack of romantic attachments and soon becomes Beatrix's closest friend. Meanwhile, Norman enthusiastically encourages Beatrix to write more stories for publication, and in her continued acquaintance with the gentle, exuberant young publisher, Beatrix begins to rethink her staunch stance on the virtues of spinsterhood...
I confess that I'm not always such a fan of Zellweger, but perhaps it's not so much her as the characters she has portrayed. I found whiny, petulant Bridget Jones hard to handle, and I saw nothing lovable about Chicago's dastardly, manipulative Roxy Hart. But I loved her role as the uncouth but hard-working and gutsy Ruby Thewes in Cold Mountain, and she's equally enjoyable here as the much primmer but no less spirited Beatrix.
Funnily enough, her living situation reminds me of that of Shannon Christie in Far and Away, portrayed by Cold Mountain star Nicole Kidman. She's a modern young woman at the turn of the century being held back by the societal expectations of her high-class mother, while her father is more understanding of her dreams. In fact, Mr. Potter once wanted to be an artist himself but never pursued it because it was not deemed respectable, so he appreciates Beatrix's artistry and helps her to nourish it, though he still is none too keen on the idea of her courting a tradesman, especially after she rejected so many upper-class suitors that her mother hand-selected.
McGregor is predictably endearing from the moment we meet Norman, with his eyes twinkling underneath his hat and his mustache extending to his deep-set dimples as he flashes a dazzling grin. Norman, as it happens, has a much better head for the publishing business than his fusty brothers suspect, but otherwise he has little in common with them. While it's hard to imagine them as carefree young lads, Norman obviously has retained his sense of childlike wonder, and what a happy gift that is to the world! I adore him every bit as much as I do Beatrix, particularly in a giddy yet vulnerable Christmastime scene that allows him to make use of his excellent singing voice with a fanciful original tune by Bright Eyes songwriter Mike Batt that is sung more completely by the ethereal Katie Melua over the closing credits.
Yes, Miss Potter is a love story, and a crackin' good one at that. But more than that, it's the story of one marvelously imaginative young woman's insistence upon embracing life's joys and sharing them with others, even in the midst of her own sorrows. Because as heart-warming and exhilarating as the film is, it's also tinged with tragedy. That Beatrix took the trials life handed her and transformed them into opportunities to bestow lasting beauty upon the world, not only through her beloved books but through her tireless conservation efforts in England's Lake District, beautifully preserved on film through Andrew Dunn's shimmery cinematography, is a true testament to her spirit.
Anyone who's ever smiled at the antics of Jemima Puddle-Duck, Jeremy Fisher or especially Peter Rabbit will love this story of how they were born. Wholesome and prickling with the best sort of enchantment, Miss Potter is pure magic.
Miss Potter, written by Richard Maltby Jr. and directed by Chris Noonan, introduces us to the lively, delightfully eccentric Beatrix (Renee Zellweger) as a woman in her early thirties who still lives with her encouraging father (Bill Patterson) and restrictive mother (Barbara Flynn), who insists she be accompanied constantly by an elderly chaperone. As the film opens, Beatrix's only friends are imaginary, an assortment of charming rabbits, ducks and other domestic farm animals that will look familiar to anyone who ever picked up one of her tiny volumes. We see them as she does, not relegated to the page as she has arranged them but taking on lives of their own, blinking their bright little eyes, twitching their wispy whiskers, waddling across the page with a cheeky flap of the wings. These characters become real to her, and she is determined to let the rest of the world fall in love with them as well.
Her task is not initially an easy one. Though she has honed her skills as an artist and storyteller for years, as we see in flashbacks to a childhood spent blissfully roaming the English countryside and entertaining her brother Bertram (Oliver Jenkins) with fanciful tales, her classic story about Peter Rabbit is met with a sniff and a sneer when she approaches the stuffy Warne brothers, Harold (Anton Lesser) and Fruing (David Bamber), about the possibility of publication. However, timing works to her favor, as their idealistic younger brother Norman (Ewan McGregor) has stated his desire to join the family business and they need a throwaway project to give him, since they doubt he will distinguish himself as a publisher.
Thus, a perfect partnership is born. For Norman sees all the enchantment in Beatrix's work that his brothers miss, and he intends to prove them wrong about the "bunny book" they would have cast aside. As the business relationship blooms into friendship, Norman introduces her to his mother (Phyllida Law), who is startled by Beatrix's spunk but taken with her nonetheless, and his sister Millie (Emily Watson), a free thinker who revels in her lack of romantic attachments and soon becomes Beatrix's closest friend. Meanwhile, Norman enthusiastically encourages Beatrix to write more stories for publication, and in her continued acquaintance with the gentle, exuberant young publisher, Beatrix begins to rethink her staunch stance on the virtues of spinsterhood...
I confess that I'm not always such a fan of Zellweger, but perhaps it's not so much her as the characters she has portrayed. I found whiny, petulant Bridget Jones hard to handle, and I saw nothing lovable about Chicago's dastardly, manipulative Roxy Hart. But I loved her role as the uncouth but hard-working and gutsy Ruby Thewes in Cold Mountain, and she's equally enjoyable here as the much primmer but no less spirited Beatrix.
Funnily enough, her living situation reminds me of that of Shannon Christie in Far and Away, portrayed by Cold Mountain star Nicole Kidman. She's a modern young woman at the turn of the century being held back by the societal expectations of her high-class mother, while her father is more understanding of her dreams. In fact, Mr. Potter once wanted to be an artist himself but never pursued it because it was not deemed respectable, so he appreciates Beatrix's artistry and helps her to nourish it, though he still is none too keen on the idea of her courting a tradesman, especially after she rejected so many upper-class suitors that her mother hand-selected.
McGregor is predictably endearing from the moment we meet Norman, with his eyes twinkling underneath his hat and his mustache extending to his deep-set dimples as he flashes a dazzling grin. Norman, as it happens, has a much better head for the publishing business than his fusty brothers suspect, but otherwise he has little in common with them. While it's hard to imagine them as carefree young lads, Norman obviously has retained his sense of childlike wonder, and what a happy gift that is to the world! I adore him every bit as much as I do Beatrix, particularly in a giddy yet vulnerable Christmastime scene that allows him to make use of his excellent singing voice with a fanciful original tune by Bright Eyes songwriter Mike Batt that is sung more completely by the ethereal Katie Melua over the closing credits.
Yes, Miss Potter is a love story, and a crackin' good one at that. But more than that, it's the story of one marvelously imaginative young woman's insistence upon embracing life's joys and sharing them with others, even in the midst of her own sorrows. Because as heart-warming and exhilarating as the film is, it's also tinged with tragedy. That Beatrix took the trials life handed her and transformed them into opportunities to bestow lasting beauty upon the world, not only through her beloved books but through her tireless conservation efforts in England's Lake District, beautifully preserved on film through Andrew Dunn's shimmery cinematography, is a true testament to her spirit.
Anyone who's ever smiled at the antics of Jemima Puddle-Duck, Jeremy Fisher or especially Peter Rabbit will love this story of how they were born. Wholesome and prickling with the best sort of enchantment, Miss Potter is pure magic.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Benjamin Bunny Could Learn a Thing or Two From His Cousin Peter's Mistakes
I come from a very eclectic family. My grandparents (George and Martha)
are hippos. My dad (Ronald) is a clown. And my brother (Benjamin) is a
bunny. I am reminded of the latter because of the approach of Easter,
which always brings Beatrix Potter to mind, both because several of her
books involve rabbits and because one Easter, my brothers and I received
a collection of six tiny Potter books put out by BP, for whatever
reason. Perhaps so we wouldn't forget that the "B" stands for "British"?
Or because the powers that be were amused that BP also signifies
"Beatrix Potter"? Whatever the case, we got a lovely little collection
that Easter, and among those six books was The Tale of Benjamin Bunny.
It's interesting that Benjamin is referred as a bunny while his cousin Peter is introduced to us as a rabbit. I imagine Potter did this for two reasons: because "Benjamin Bunny" has such a nice alliterative ring to it, and because she wanted to emphasize the fact that Benjamin is younger. As such, he does not have the benefit of Peter's wisdom, acquired after his harrowing ordeal in the adventure bearing his name, so he is cheerfully headstrong in contrast to Peter, who spends most of this book in a state of anxious misery.
The mission that the two rabbits soon undertake is the recovery of Peter's clothes, which are hanging on the scarecrow where Mr. McGregor put them after Peter lost them in his garden. Peter ought to be overjoyed when he hears from Benjamin that the McGregor's are off for a day-long outing, since this should allow him ample time to retrieve his wardrobe, but his reaction is one of petulance. He glumly remarks that he wishes it would rain. If it did, it would ruin the fun of his human nemeses, but it would also likely crush his chances of getting his clothes back, and even if he succeeded, they would be all wet. Unless it didn't start to rain until he and his garments were safely home.
At any rate, Peter's caution and lack of enthusiasm for the task ahead of him lead Benjamin to take control, and he cavalierly strolls through the garden, nibbling on lettuce and wearing Mr. McGregor's very silly (and much too large for a bunny) hat, which was used to complete the scarecrow's ensemble. But his education is about to begin when he hides himself, along with Peter and a kerchief full of onions for Peter's mother, underneath a basket in order to escape the farmer's cat, only to have that cat hop onto the basket and remain there for hours.
The language Potter uses is a bit quaint, so not all the words will be familiar to contemporary children, but this is just a point of interest rather than a pitfall. The strangest of these words is probably "tam-o-shanter," which is the proper term for Mr. McGregor's floppy Scottish wool cap with a pom-pom in the middle. The corporal punishment Benjamin endures at the paws of his severe father could raise objections, though it is also his father who saves him from his life-threatening predicament. I also find it interesting how Potter puts herself into the story somewhat by stating that she once bought some of Mrs. Rabbit's hand-knit items at a fair.
Her illustrations are, as always, incredibly detailed. The rabbits look perfectly realistic except for the fact that they are wearing clothes. I especially love the expressiveness of their faces, particularly in one illustration in which Benjamin sits down next to his cousin, who is shuddering sadly while wrapped up in a handkerchief. He looks so comforting in this picture, and his one exposed eye is fully open, seeming to exude calmness, while Peter's is narrowed with crinkles around the edges, making it look as though he's been crying.
In the end, Peter and Benjamin are both good little bunnies who have learned the consequences of doing not-so-good things. The Tale of Benjamin Bunny is a charming story, whether or not it's Easter and whether or not you happen to have a brother named Benjamin.
It's interesting that Benjamin is referred as a bunny while his cousin Peter is introduced to us as a rabbit. I imagine Potter did this for two reasons: because "Benjamin Bunny" has such a nice alliterative ring to it, and because she wanted to emphasize the fact that Benjamin is younger. As such, he does not have the benefit of Peter's wisdom, acquired after his harrowing ordeal in the adventure bearing his name, so he is cheerfully headstrong in contrast to Peter, who spends most of this book in a state of anxious misery.
The mission that the two rabbits soon undertake is the recovery of Peter's clothes, which are hanging on the scarecrow where Mr. McGregor put them after Peter lost them in his garden. Peter ought to be overjoyed when he hears from Benjamin that the McGregor's are off for a day-long outing, since this should allow him ample time to retrieve his wardrobe, but his reaction is one of petulance. He glumly remarks that he wishes it would rain. If it did, it would ruin the fun of his human nemeses, but it would also likely crush his chances of getting his clothes back, and even if he succeeded, they would be all wet. Unless it didn't start to rain until he and his garments were safely home.
At any rate, Peter's caution and lack of enthusiasm for the task ahead of him lead Benjamin to take control, and he cavalierly strolls through the garden, nibbling on lettuce and wearing Mr. McGregor's very silly (and much too large for a bunny) hat, which was used to complete the scarecrow's ensemble. But his education is about to begin when he hides himself, along with Peter and a kerchief full of onions for Peter's mother, underneath a basket in order to escape the farmer's cat, only to have that cat hop onto the basket and remain there for hours.
The language Potter uses is a bit quaint, so not all the words will be familiar to contemporary children, but this is just a point of interest rather than a pitfall. The strangest of these words is probably "tam-o-shanter," which is the proper term for Mr. McGregor's floppy Scottish wool cap with a pom-pom in the middle. The corporal punishment Benjamin endures at the paws of his severe father could raise objections, though it is also his father who saves him from his life-threatening predicament. I also find it interesting how Potter puts herself into the story somewhat by stating that she once bought some of Mrs. Rabbit's hand-knit items at a fair.
Her illustrations are, as always, incredibly detailed. The rabbits look perfectly realistic except for the fact that they are wearing clothes. I especially love the expressiveness of their faces, particularly in one illustration in which Benjamin sits down next to his cousin, who is shuddering sadly while wrapped up in a handkerchief. He looks so comforting in this picture, and his one exposed eye is fully open, seeming to exude calmness, while Peter's is narrowed with crinkles around the edges, making it look as though he's been crying.
In the end, Peter and Benjamin are both good little bunnies who have learned the consequences of doing not-so-good things. The Tale of Benjamin Bunny is a charming story, whether or not it's Easter and whether or not you happen to have a brother named Benjamin.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Tidy Mrs. Tittlemouse Plots to Remove Uninvited Guests
I grew up with Peter Rabbit and enjoyed several other stories by Beatrix
Potter, but a recent trip to the library reminded me how many of her
books I still have yet to enjoy. I started my immersion with The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse.
Potter is known as much for her talent as a artist as a storyteller, and rightly so. The watercolors in this tiny volume are marvelously detailed. The titular mouse, a wide assortment of creepy-crawly critters including ladybugs, bees, butterflies, spiders and beetles, and a neighboring frog who often stops by to visit all look very much like the real thing, except for the fact that the mouse and the frog are wearing clothes, and exquisitely designed articles they are. Besides the clothes, there is the furniture, the dishes and other human accoutrements, but Mrs. Tittlemouse lives in a large sandy burrow that seems very much like the sort of home a real mouse would choose for herself.
The story is not quite so satisfying to me as the illustrations. Mrs. Tittlemouse is incredibly fastidious. She sweeps constantly, a pretty futile effort when one's home is made of dirt. What's worse, she has a steady stream of uninvited guests - for there's nothing really to allow her to claim this bank under the hedge as her own. Other creatures are quite inclined to wander its passageways freely. Unfortunately, they all happen to be animals of a messy nature, and Mr. Jackson, an affable but imposing frog, is worst of all. How will this poor mouse ever get all these intruders to go away?
I feel a little sorry for Mrs. Tittlemouse. For one thing, while she lives a life of extreme solitude whenever possible, it would seem that she was not always on her own. My guess is that she is a widow, since she is a "Mrs." but there's no sign of a husband. So I don't want to be too hard on the bereaved. Also, it must be rather intimidating to never know when another strange creature is going to drop by. We all appreciate our privacy, and she seems to more than most; I wouldn't be thrilled either if I had to worry about tripping over beetles and bees every time I walked down the hall.
But she's also rather a pain, always shooing away the creatures she meets, always wiping up after those who leave prints on the floor (which, given the make-up of her home, seem like they should fade away naturally). She strikes me as just a bit uncharitable. Also, Potter has two characters in this book make a distinct series of noises. Babbitty Bumble, a bee, makes buzzing sounds whenever someone speaks to him, while Mr. Jackson says "tiddly, widdly, widdly" repeatedly. After two or three times, I find this grating, though young children might enjoy the repetition.
Although the packaging is tiny, there is quite a bit of text for a picture book. I counted nearly 70 paragraphs. Most of these are fairly short, however. I caught at least two references to nursery rhymes, which astute children are likely to point out, and that adds to the fun. Overall, though, while the illustrations are fantastic, the story isn't quite as engaging as some of her other tales. The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse is worth reading, but this fussy old mouse can't compete with messy young Peter.
Potter is known as much for her talent as a artist as a storyteller, and rightly so. The watercolors in this tiny volume are marvelously detailed. The titular mouse, a wide assortment of creepy-crawly critters including ladybugs, bees, butterflies, spiders and beetles, and a neighboring frog who often stops by to visit all look very much like the real thing, except for the fact that the mouse and the frog are wearing clothes, and exquisitely designed articles they are. Besides the clothes, there is the furniture, the dishes and other human accoutrements, but Mrs. Tittlemouse lives in a large sandy burrow that seems very much like the sort of home a real mouse would choose for herself.
The story is not quite so satisfying to me as the illustrations. Mrs. Tittlemouse is incredibly fastidious. She sweeps constantly, a pretty futile effort when one's home is made of dirt. What's worse, she has a steady stream of uninvited guests - for there's nothing really to allow her to claim this bank under the hedge as her own. Other creatures are quite inclined to wander its passageways freely. Unfortunately, they all happen to be animals of a messy nature, and Mr. Jackson, an affable but imposing frog, is worst of all. How will this poor mouse ever get all these intruders to go away?
I feel a little sorry for Mrs. Tittlemouse. For one thing, while she lives a life of extreme solitude whenever possible, it would seem that she was not always on her own. My guess is that she is a widow, since she is a "Mrs." but there's no sign of a husband. So I don't want to be too hard on the bereaved. Also, it must be rather intimidating to never know when another strange creature is going to drop by. We all appreciate our privacy, and she seems to more than most; I wouldn't be thrilled either if I had to worry about tripping over beetles and bees every time I walked down the hall.
But she's also rather a pain, always shooing away the creatures she meets, always wiping up after those who leave prints on the floor (which, given the make-up of her home, seem like they should fade away naturally). She strikes me as just a bit uncharitable. Also, Potter has two characters in this book make a distinct series of noises. Babbitty Bumble, a bee, makes buzzing sounds whenever someone speaks to him, while Mr. Jackson says "tiddly, widdly, widdly" repeatedly. After two or three times, I find this grating, though young children might enjoy the repetition.
Although the packaging is tiny, there is quite a bit of text for a picture book. I counted nearly 70 paragraphs. Most of these are fairly short, however. I caught at least two references to nursery rhymes, which astute children are likely to point out, and that adds to the fun. Overall, though, while the illustrations are fantastic, the story isn't quite as engaging as some of her other tales. The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse is worth reading, but this fussy old mouse can't compete with messy young Peter.
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