Brendan and I have been watching The Legend of Korra every Saturday (seriously, we never miss it -- the Amazon Instant Video download every Saturday evening is always anticipated). For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, it's a sequel to the Avatar: The Last Airbender series that we both fell in love with a few years ago. It's awesome, but before I digress into why I'm enjoying the show so much, let me get to the point of my post.
Well, wait, no -- I need to backtrack one last time. Right around the time I began watching Korra, some of my theatre friends and acquaintances from Logan, Utah performed in a Disney-themed show called Remember the Magic at The Old Barn Theatre (where Brendan and I performed in winter of 2010). It was basically a compilation of Disney songs thrown together into a show. I recently got to view all of their production photos with a smile, 'cause it looked cute and fun. I started thinking, though, about how much many of these girls love Disney (particularly the princesses). Really, really, really love Disney.
It's not that I don't understand that fascination -- I, myself, went through a rather long phase of Disney obsession earlier in my life. As a child, I made my family members call me Snow White. I watched all of the princess movies, always wanted to dress up like a princess, and idolized every one of them. Disneyland was by far my favorite place to visit, and when I turned 18 I attended a mass cattle call audition in Anaheim so that I could be paid to be a "professional princess" (otherwise known as a "face character") at Disneyland. I'd wager money (really, I would) that some of my friends and family members questioned my sanity at times.
I eventually grew out of my obsession (which was really an escapist fantasy into a world I so desperately wanted to exist, but that's another story), but having lived in Utah for five years opened my eyes to a very interesting phenomenon. Girls in Utah (who mostly identify as very conservative) absolutely love Disney and its court of princess characters. Asking a young woman in Utah if she likes Disney is like asking a young woman in Utah if she likes Twilight -- the answer will usually be an unequivocal, resounding yes.
I'm not going to go out on a huge limb here and suggest that all conservative people really like Disney (especially since I know that some ultra-conservatives like to boycott Disney's support of gay rights), but I am going to speculate on a few things. As most people who know me are aware, I am not conservative. In fact, I'm pretty liberal. And I'm very open about being a feminist. With all of that being said, I'm also pretty disgusted with my former Disney obsession, for a number of reasons. I understand it and what it meant for me, but it's evolved into a love/hate relationship with the company that I often don't know how to balance.
And why, you ask, is there a part of me that hates Disney? There are a few reasons, but for the sake of this post I'm going to focus on the princess characters (with whom the majority of my obsession belonged). I get why so many girls and young woman love the princesses. For starters, they encompass everything our society has projected about the ideal woman. They're beautiful, graceful, kind, and loved by all. They always wind up with a handsome prince (or at least some rendition of a hot guy). Their stories end with the "happily ever after" scenario that every girl dreams of at least once in her life (come on, girls -- admit that you dreamed about it at least once growing up).
But this, in actuality, is entirely why I dislike them. Their extreme beauty sends a questionable message -- Disney doesn't create plain or homely heroines who get happily ever afters, only beautiful ones. When you pair that with the fact that many of the female villains are ugly (think of Cinderella's stepsisters and Ursula from The Little Mermaid), it's easy to equate goodness and female success with beauty, and virulence and female downfall with non-beauty. When you're a young girl idolizing these characters, it's even easier to base your own self-worth on your physical appearance (as if girls need any more of that in our culture and society).
Further, aside from the message this sends to women, we must also consider the message this sends about women. Snow White was considered the fairest in the land, and her stepmother was willing to kill her for it. That is extreme, and supports the notion that women are petty and jealous, and that out-doing each other (particularly when it comes to looks) is, or should be, our first priority. You see a similar situation when Mother Gothel is willing to kidnap Rapunzel and lock her away forever, living alone and isolated with her for years and years, for the sake of staying young and beautiful. I know that these are the villains of the story, but keep in mind that they're usually the only women (not girls) who play a significant role in the story.
And let's not forget that in Sleeping Beauty, the three fairies each bestowed a magical gift upon Princess Aurora. They could have given her any three gifts they wanted -- kindness, power, strength, the mental capacity to actually run a kingdom, or perhaps magical abilities of her own -- but instead, the first and foremost gift they granted her was the gift of beauty (followed by the gift of song, because a singing beauty is apparently more important than any quality that might make her a good monarch someday). What are girls supposed to take from that?
I'll also mention the romance aspect. Girls and women get dreamy-eyed when they watch Disney romances, but if you take a closer look at them, the reality is a bit darker. Notice how all of the princess movies (particularly the first three, Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty) all end with a marriage. These movies are supposed to be these girls' stories, and their stories end with a marriage -- that's it, end of story, happily ever after. Cinderella, even, was only able to escape her abusive family through the help of a handsome prince (and it wouldn't have happened had she not been beautiful). I've analyzed the possibility that this idea (and you see it everywhere, even outside of Disney) leads young girls to think that marriage is the key to their happiness and contentment. In our culture, girls are being sent the message that they should be striving for marriage, and once they achieve it, everything else will fall into place. Those of us who have experienced marriage know this isn't really the case, but does Disney bother to show the squabbling, the balance of power, the immense compromise, the learning to live together, the getting to know one another (as some of the Disney princesses married men they knew for about a day)? No. Do they ever allow the princess or heroine to remain single, shining light on the fact that some women prefer it to being married? No. (Update: Remember, please, that this blog post was written long before the days of Elsa and Moana.)
Couple this with the other subtle messages that Disney sends about love and marriage. For instance, Ariel was willing to give up everything -- her family, her friends, her voice (both physically and metaphorically), and basically her entire life -- for the sake of being with a man that she'd never even spoken to. Belle stayed with a physically and emotionally abusive man because she could "change" him. Jasmine chose to be with Aladdin, but let's not forget that she would have otherwise been forced into a different marriage -- the option of just being single, or even taking her time finding a suitable match, wasn't available to her. Even the most recent princess, Rapunzel, can't escape her own story, which was initially about discovering independence, self-determination, and her own autonomy. Her story is eventually dominated by the love story (she goes from being dependent on Mother Gothel to, at the end of the story, returning to her parents and marrying Eugene "Flynn" Rider -- there, in actuality, is no real self discovery other than "Oh, I'm a princess and I'm in love").
I know what some of you are probably thinking at this point (assuming you've made it this far) -- some rendition of "they're just stories," "they're just kid movies," or "you're taking this way too seriously." In some ways, I agree. I over-analyze everything. But remember that Disney Princess has become a franchise in and of itself. For many little girls and young women, these aren't "just" kid movies. Some people idolize and look up to the princesses (I know, because I was one of them). As a liberal feminist, I know that I'd like to see the role models of the next generation of women be a bit more round and less flat. I'd love them to be motivated by something other than jealousy and love. I'd love to see them experience some of the hopes, fears, and dreams that real women have, but are often neglected.
So this brings me to Korra. I think that there are a few great female role models in children's programming today (many more than when I was a child), but the some of the best come from the Avatar: The Last Airbender series (and its sequel). Katara, the story's main female character in the original series, is a strong and powerful water bender who eventually takes down one of the main villains. She's also motherly, kind, and feminine, and the combination of her attributes -- traditionally feminine, and yet also a driven warrior -- are part of what makes her character so likeable and complex. Although she does wind up romantically involved with the main male character in the end of the series, she initially turned him down, deciding to focus first on her role in the worldwide war. She's an intelligent girl who makes intelligent choices (and, sometimes, bad choices). She's more believable than any of Disney's princess characters.
There's also Toph, another main female character, who doesn't embody beauty or grace. She's a 12-year-old blind girl who's more than a bit rough around the edges. And she's also the world's most talented earth bender. One of the series' main villains, Azula, is actually driven by power, greed, and insanity -- she's hardly moved by others' beauty or relationship statuses. Her interactions and history with the other members of her royal family are complex and serve to help us understand Azula as a human being -- more than just the show's main villain. And then there's Suki, the female warrior who softens the formerly sexist Sokka. And finally, in the sequel to the series, we've got Korra, who's doing her best to balance her ambitious nature, brave and wild spirit, and, yes, her romantic feelings for a close friend. She's a dynamic character with an honest self-identity and, as the new Avatar, sense of command.
The main point that I take from these female characters, which I think is wholly important for girls and young women to grasp, is that femininity doesn't have to mean that you give up your power, independence, and autonomy. That beauty doesn't make you worthwhile, and plainness doesn't make you worthless. That romantic relationships are wonderful, but better made when two independent selves come together to work together (rather than one or both parties giving up all or part of themselves for the sake of the other).
So what does this have to do with conservatism and liberalism? I'm not sure, precisely, and I'm not about to make any leaping statements about it. But I do find it wholly interesting that the conservative women I know (who do strive for extreme beauty and do believe that marriage might be the most important things in the world) are awfully fond of the Disney princesses. And it's also interesting that, as a liberal, I reject much of what the princesses personify and seek out better representation of women, girls, and femininity for myself and my young son. Perhaps I find it more fascinating that others because I was that girl who lived and breathed everything Disney.
Perhaps I'm rambling about issues that are non-essential to most, but I think they speak about deeper issues that most women understand and appreciate. And so, ladies, I'll close by offering you a wink -- whether you agree with me or not, you know what I mean. ;)
Right Back Where I Started From...
I won't lie -- I've wanted to return to California for quite some time now, but didn't actually seriously take it into consideration until just a few months ago. Upon finishing my graduate degree in Utah, I thought about the possibility of staying in Utah or moving to a number of other places (Montana, Las Vegas, and Texas among them), for a number of reasons. For a while I was applying for jobs in various areas, thinking that wherever I happened to get a job was where I'd go. But when I didn't land a job in any one area (damn economy), I began to do some serious consideration about what I, personally, wanted and where I desired to live.
The answer was California. During my teenage and early adult years (you know, when I was still pining to be a princess at Disneyland) I desired to return to California (where I was born and spent many of the first twelve years of my life). After I married and traveled from Vegas to Washington to Idaho to Utah, I desired to return to California. So now that I'm on my own and calling all the shots in my life, I had to answer the following question: at this point in my life, when I can choose anywhere I want to go, why not finally return to California? After all, when will I again have the opportunity to pick anywhere I want to live and make it happen?
The major issue for me was expense. It's no secret that California is a hugely expensive state to live in, particularly in the Bay Area (where I'm at). Luckily, though, I have friends here who have been kind enough to open their home to me and show me that finding a nice area that's still affordable is, in fact, possible -- if you know where to look. So, to make a long story short, I found myself a great place in a great area and am getting ready to make the move that I've been looking forward to for about fifteen years now.
Still, I've been reflecting recently on the fact that I'll be leaving Utah after living there for almost five years. My son was practically raised there. I got my education (bachelor's and master's degrees) there. I'd be lying if I claimed I didn't have some roots there. So, as excited as I am to be in California now, I am finding myself reminiscing fondly about some aspects of my former state.
Things I'll miss about Utah:
1) The people I met. I made some great friends in Utah, both in St. George (Cath Glover, Dustin Jackson, and Kay Berry, to name a few) and in Logan (Simone Suddreth, Charlotte Kondel), and I'll miss them for sure. The academic mentors that I grew close to (Sue Bennett, Jennifer Sinor, Brock Dethier, etc.) are all in Utah as well. Even the acquaintences that I made (the Old Barn Theatre crowd, for example) were great people. I've taken so much from my Utah relationships.
2) "Minority Sundays." Being part of the nonreligious crowd in Utah usually meant that I could go shopping on Sundays with little to no crowds to deal with. I'll definitely miss that.
3) The small, safe community. This has it's upside and downside, but Logan was certainly the smallest, safest community I've ever lived in (with the exception of, maybe, Hudson in Quebec). Last year, my first grader could walk to and from school on his own, and there was an overall sense of calm throughout the community. I didn't lock my doors, and never once had a problem. That will be missed.
But ... here are the things I'm just loving about California:
1) Being back in a busy, diverse community. Let's be honest -- even though Utah has some diversity (especially on the college/university campuses), it's very white and very Mormon. I'm loving being (and raising my son) in an area that experiences and promotes racial, religious, sexual, and political diversity (among other things). It's fantastic.
2) Related to what I just said, it's been great being in a political and ideological environment that I fit into better. Being the furthest thing from an ultra-conservative Mormon, coupled with the fact that I'm a single, working mother made finding a niche in Utah quite difficult. Not so in the Bay Area.
3) Two words: food and wine. In California, the fruits and veggies are so fresh. The seafood is so fresh. The variety of the stores and in the stores is amazing. Nearly everything is just delicious, and all of this makes eating healthy so much easier than I'm used to. And let's not forget that I'm now in wine country, so the flow of delicious reds and whites has been nonstop.
4) The job and academic opportunities. Even though the economy sucks and finding a job anywhere is tough right now, this area is huge, and being close to San Francisco means that there are job openings all over the place. I've been able to throw my resume in dozens of different areas. Also, I've been thinking about the future possibility of either a PhD or a JD, and the academic institutions offer so many choices to be thinking about.
5) My place. It's small and affordable. It has a dishwasher (after living two years without one, this was a big deal). It's surrounded by trees and plant life. It's close to so much. I'm loving it.
6) The weather. In Utah, I was used to two extremes: the dry desert heat of St. George, and the frigid winters of Logan. In St. George, I spent summers sweating and seeking out air-conditioned venues. In Logan, I spent winters managing icy roads and air cold enough to freeze wet hair. Since being in California, I've experienced the mildest, most beautiful weather! The summer has been mostly in the high 70s and low 80's -- warm enough to swim, and cool enough to stay comfortable. I know it won't snow in the winter. It's fantastic.
I know there are other things I'll miss about Utah and other things I love about California that I'll remember one minute after posting this, but for now I'll leave it as is. I'm heading out now to enjoy the clear blue skies and 75 degree summer!
The answer was California. During my teenage and early adult years (you know, when I was still pining to be a princess at Disneyland) I desired to return to California (where I was born and spent many of the first twelve years of my life). After I married and traveled from Vegas to Washington to Idaho to Utah, I desired to return to California. So now that I'm on my own and calling all the shots in my life, I had to answer the following question: at this point in my life, when I can choose anywhere I want to go, why not finally return to California? After all, when will I again have the opportunity to pick anywhere I want to live and make it happen?
The major issue for me was expense. It's no secret that California is a hugely expensive state to live in, particularly in the Bay Area (where I'm at). Luckily, though, I have friends here who have been kind enough to open their home to me and show me that finding a nice area that's still affordable is, in fact, possible -- if you know where to look. So, to make a long story short, I found myself a great place in a great area and am getting ready to make the move that I've been looking forward to for about fifteen years now.
Still, I've been reflecting recently on the fact that I'll be leaving Utah after living there for almost five years. My son was practically raised there. I got my education (bachelor's and master's degrees) there. I'd be lying if I claimed I didn't have some roots there. So, as excited as I am to be in California now, I am finding myself reminiscing fondly about some aspects of my former state.
Things I'll miss about Utah:
1) The people I met. I made some great friends in Utah, both in St. George (Cath Glover, Dustin Jackson, and Kay Berry, to name a few) and in Logan (Simone Suddreth, Charlotte Kondel), and I'll miss them for sure. The academic mentors that I grew close to (Sue Bennett, Jennifer Sinor, Brock Dethier, etc.) are all in Utah as well. Even the acquaintences that I made (the Old Barn Theatre crowd, for example) were great people. I've taken so much from my Utah relationships.
2) "Minority Sundays." Being part of the nonreligious crowd in Utah usually meant that I could go shopping on Sundays with little to no crowds to deal with. I'll definitely miss that.
3) The small, safe community. This has it's upside and downside, but Logan was certainly the smallest, safest community I've ever lived in (with the exception of, maybe, Hudson in Quebec). Last year, my first grader could walk to and from school on his own, and there was an overall sense of calm throughout the community. I didn't lock my doors, and never once had a problem. That will be missed.
But ... here are the things I'm just loving about California:
1) Being back in a busy, diverse community. Let's be honest -- even though Utah has some diversity (especially on the college/university campuses), it's very white and very Mormon. I'm loving being (and raising my son) in an area that experiences and promotes racial, religious, sexual, and political diversity (among other things). It's fantastic.
2) Related to what I just said, it's been great being in a political and ideological environment that I fit into better. Being the furthest thing from an ultra-conservative Mormon, coupled with the fact that I'm a single, working mother made finding a niche in Utah quite difficult. Not so in the Bay Area.
3) Two words: food and wine. In California, the fruits and veggies are so fresh. The seafood is so fresh. The variety of the stores and in the stores is amazing. Nearly everything is just delicious, and all of this makes eating healthy so much easier than I'm used to. And let's not forget that I'm now in wine country, so the flow of delicious reds and whites has been nonstop.
4) The job and academic opportunities. Even though the economy sucks and finding a job anywhere is tough right now, this area is huge, and being close to San Francisco means that there are job openings all over the place. I've been able to throw my resume in dozens of different areas. Also, I've been thinking about the future possibility of either a PhD or a JD, and the academic institutions offer so many choices to be thinking about.
5) My place. It's small and affordable. It has a dishwasher (after living two years without one, this was a big deal). It's surrounded by trees and plant life. It's close to so much. I'm loving it.
6) The weather. In Utah, I was used to two extremes: the dry desert heat of St. George, and the frigid winters of Logan. In St. George, I spent summers sweating and seeking out air-conditioned venues. In Logan, I spent winters managing icy roads and air cold enough to freeze wet hair. Since being in California, I've experienced the mildest, most beautiful weather! The summer has been mostly in the high 70s and low 80's -- warm enough to swim, and cool enough to stay comfortable. I know it won't snow in the winter. It's fantastic.
I know there are other things I'll miss about Utah and other things I love about California that I'll remember one minute after posting this, but for now I'll leave it as is. I'm heading out now to enjoy the clear blue skies and 75 degree summer!
My Adventures as a Homeless Hippie Vagabond
Yeah, that sounds much more interesting than it actually is. The truth of the matter is that I packed up my tiny little apartment at Aggie Village on Monday and have not yet decided where I'm going beyond that. Part of the problem is that I want to make sure I move somewhere with decent job aspects (for me) and education aspects (for Brendan) and possible PhD aspects (again, for me) so that my son and I can settle in for a while and actually build some roots. But more on that later...
...For now, back to Monday. I actually woke up on Monday and thought, "Hm. Today is moving day and I have absolutely no plan with which to attack it." Granted, I had spent the previous month packing my place, and it was all finished and ready to go, but I had no idea how I was going to transfer the contents of my life from the apartment to the storage unit downtown. To make matters worse, I quickly realized that it was Memorial Day (how on earth had I missed that one?), and that pretty much every moving company in town was closed. My good friend Charlotte Kondel and her family were coming over to help me, but I was dreading the inevitable time when they showed up and I had nothing to offer but a house full of boxes and furniture with no way to move it all.
So in step my neighbors. I didn't know my neighbors very well (the combination of my semi anti-social nature and my incredibly busy schedule made that increasingly difficult throughout the course of last year), but somehow they'd gotten wind of the fact that I was moving. Before I knew it, there was a couple offering to let me use their van, two strong men to actually do the moving, and their two wives to help me clean the place out. That, combined with Charlotte's family, made the entire ordeal a very, very easy experience. Let me just pause here and say that this is one aspect of LDS culture that has really begun to impress me. These neighbors did know me well enough to know that I was a single mother who had no interest in joining the LDS Church, and yet wanted to help me out simply for the sake of helping me. They wanted nothing in return, but were so eager to make my life easier. I can't thank them enough -- I don't think they'll ever know how their kindness affected me.
So with all of my things in storage, I spent the night at Charlotte's house and had a great time watching Law and Order while the children played. Even though I slept on the couch, her dog made it a point to show how much she likes me by curling up underneath my blankets and snuggling me all night. :) The following day I drove to St. George, where I spent the evening catching up with my good friend Cathrine Glover. Her son recently went away to college in central Utah, so Brendan and I got to use his bedroom.
In arranging visitations with all of my friends in St. George, I did the stupidist thing. I meant to arrange a lunch date with Amanda Scott, who went through college and graduated with me. But I wound up accidentally texting an Amanda I knew in Logan, thinking it was the one from St. George, and when we both wound up at Cafe Rio six hours away from each other, I almost slapped myself for the idiotic moment of the week. But I did get to see old friends Kaye Berry, Kathy Gubler, Dustin Jackson, and my college mentor, Sue Bennett. I had a lovely time with all of them.
On Thursday evening, Brendan and I had tickets to see Disney's The Little Mermaid at Tuacahn, so we drove out there eager to see a good show. When we got there, however, we were told the show had been cancelled due to the director's feelings that the cast was not ready to open. I was kind of livid, but they did say that anyone could stay and watch the final dress rehearsal, as long as we understood that it was just that -- a rehearsal. So Brendan and I, along with a couple hundred other people, watched a professional dress rehearsal.
What I can say is this: I would have loved to see the show in its entirety, nonstop, because it was positively stunning. It was definitely on the same caliber, if not better, than the showing of Wicked I saw last summer in San Francisco. The actors were phenomenal (with the exception of King Triton, who was somewhat of a weak link), the sets were amazing, and the special effects breathtaking. And even though the lights continually came up in the house so that scenes could be redone and notes could be given, and a two hour show took almost four to complete, Brendan and I were happy we stayed. Every time the show stopped, too, some of the actors actually chatted with the kids in the audience (which Brendan found to be enchanting), so there was some good that came out of it.
Right after the show I drove to Vegas to spend time with Lisa while Tommy is away up north for the weekend. We've been drinking and playing video games (and, yes, I've also been keeping up with my online students in the meanwhile), and it's been a great, relaxing visit. Brendan got a chance to visit with his dad and grandmother, too, which was nice for him.
But, all right, I do have to take a moment here and gripe about the driving situation in Las Vegas. Last night was the most ridiculous experience ever. In dropping Brendan off with his grandma, I got lost three times (I know, those of you who know me well are so surprised about that one), had to find gas in the middle of the Strip (possible, believe it or not), and fought a low blood sugar episode with Brendan's stash of car treats (which turned out to be a nasty Fruity Pebbles cereal bar). Then, in picking him up, I got stuck in ridiculous traffic and found myself behind a woman whose car stalled right in the middle of the street. She put her own gas in to help the problem, but then decided to stare at her gas tank for a while instead of getting into the vehicle to move it out of the way. That's Vegas for you. It took me forever to actually pick up Brendan once I found out I could not turn down the Freemont Street Experience (thanks, GPS), but all turned out well.
In the midst of all of this ... yes, I have been thinking about where I'm going to move after I finish this little vagabond trip. I have some ideas, and have pretty much decided to follow Lisa and Tommy up north, although if I miraculously get a job elsewhere you never know where I may end up.
Okay, so here we are. If you've actually made it this far and are still reading, then hooray for staying tuned in to my crazy life! I think that Lisa, Brendan, and I are going to play some Castlevania and eat pork tonight, but before I close let me brag about one thing that I've discovered: I can still shoot tequila without lime or a chaser. Go me.
...For now, back to Monday. I actually woke up on Monday and thought, "Hm. Today is moving day and I have absolutely no plan with which to attack it." Granted, I had spent the previous month packing my place, and it was all finished and ready to go, but I had no idea how I was going to transfer the contents of my life from the apartment to the storage unit downtown. To make matters worse, I quickly realized that it was Memorial Day (how on earth had I missed that one?), and that pretty much every moving company in town was closed. My good friend Charlotte Kondel and her family were coming over to help me, but I was dreading the inevitable time when they showed up and I had nothing to offer but a house full of boxes and furniture with no way to move it all.
So in step my neighbors. I didn't know my neighbors very well (the combination of my semi anti-social nature and my incredibly busy schedule made that increasingly difficult throughout the course of last year), but somehow they'd gotten wind of the fact that I was moving. Before I knew it, there was a couple offering to let me use their van, two strong men to actually do the moving, and their two wives to help me clean the place out. That, combined with Charlotte's family, made the entire ordeal a very, very easy experience. Let me just pause here and say that this is one aspect of LDS culture that has really begun to impress me. These neighbors did know me well enough to know that I was a single mother who had no interest in joining the LDS Church, and yet wanted to help me out simply for the sake of helping me. They wanted nothing in return, but were so eager to make my life easier. I can't thank them enough -- I don't think they'll ever know how their kindness affected me.
So with all of my things in storage, I spent the night at Charlotte's house and had a great time watching Law and Order while the children played. Even though I slept on the couch, her dog made it a point to show how much she likes me by curling up underneath my blankets and snuggling me all night. :) The following day I drove to St. George, where I spent the evening catching up with my good friend Cathrine Glover. Her son recently went away to college in central Utah, so Brendan and I got to use his bedroom.
In arranging visitations with all of my friends in St. George, I did the stupidist thing. I meant to arrange a lunch date with Amanda Scott, who went through college and graduated with me. But I wound up accidentally texting an Amanda I knew in Logan, thinking it was the one from St. George, and when we both wound up at Cafe Rio six hours away from each other, I almost slapped myself for the idiotic moment of the week. But I did get to see old friends Kaye Berry, Kathy Gubler, Dustin Jackson, and my college mentor, Sue Bennett. I had a lovely time with all of them.
On Thursday evening, Brendan and I had tickets to see Disney's The Little Mermaid at Tuacahn, so we drove out there eager to see a good show. When we got there, however, we were told the show had been cancelled due to the director's feelings that the cast was not ready to open. I was kind of livid, but they did say that anyone could stay and watch the final dress rehearsal, as long as we understood that it was just that -- a rehearsal. So Brendan and I, along with a couple hundred other people, watched a professional dress rehearsal.
What I can say is this: I would have loved to see the show in its entirety, nonstop, because it was positively stunning. It was definitely on the same caliber, if not better, than the showing of Wicked I saw last summer in San Francisco. The actors were phenomenal (with the exception of King Triton, who was somewhat of a weak link), the sets were amazing, and the special effects breathtaking. And even though the lights continually came up in the house so that scenes could be redone and notes could be given, and a two hour show took almost four to complete, Brendan and I were happy we stayed. Every time the show stopped, too, some of the actors actually chatted with the kids in the audience (which Brendan found to be enchanting), so there was some good that came out of it.
Right after the show I drove to Vegas to spend time with Lisa while Tommy is away up north for the weekend. We've been drinking and playing video games (and, yes, I've also been keeping up with my online students in the meanwhile), and it's been a great, relaxing visit. Brendan got a chance to visit with his dad and grandmother, too, which was nice for him.
But, all right, I do have to take a moment here and gripe about the driving situation in Las Vegas. Last night was the most ridiculous experience ever. In dropping Brendan off with his grandma, I got lost three times (I know, those of you who know me well are so surprised about that one), had to find gas in the middle of the Strip (possible, believe it or not), and fought a low blood sugar episode with Brendan's stash of car treats (which turned out to be a nasty Fruity Pebbles cereal bar). Then, in picking him up, I got stuck in ridiculous traffic and found myself behind a woman whose car stalled right in the middle of the street. She put her own gas in to help the problem, but then decided to stare at her gas tank for a while instead of getting into the vehicle to move it out of the way. That's Vegas for you. It took me forever to actually pick up Brendan once I found out I could not turn down the Freemont Street Experience (thanks, GPS), but all turned out well.
In the midst of all of this ... yes, I have been thinking about where I'm going to move after I finish this little vagabond trip. I have some ideas, and have pretty much decided to follow Lisa and Tommy up north, although if I miraculously get a job elsewhere you never know where I may end up.
Okay, so here we are. If you've actually made it this far and are still reading, then hooray for staying tuned in to my crazy life! I think that Lisa, Brendan, and I are going to play some Castlevania and eat pork tonight, but before I close let me brag about one thing that I've discovered: I can still shoot tequila without lime or a chaser. Go me.
Could the References to Abuse be Any Stronger?
Now that I'm done with my thesis and am taking a much needed break from grading (for all of a few days), I decided that what I needed was some good, old-fashioned mindless entertainment to relax my brain and, hopefully, my body. I haven't indulged in any reality TV (yet), but did pick up a copy of Breaking Dawn, the last of the Twilight series. It's been a few years now since I read the first three (well, okay, two and a half, considering I couldn't finish the third one), and thought I might as well give the last one a shot, just to see how the saga ends. Nothing like trashy teenage romance, right?
I'm not even 100 pages in, and I'm already appalled -- so appalled, apparently, that I had to blog about it. I know that I've had this tired conversation with people many times before, but this deserves to be said as well as read, especially if you have anything at all against young adult authors promoting abusive relationships. Ms. Meyer goes a bit far with this one, in my humble opinion.
I won't waste too much time going over plots and such, but just so you get the gist of what I'm saying, here's what's been happening: the beginning of the book indulges in Bella and Edward's wedding. They get married at long last, go on their honeymoon and have sex for the first time. That's the basic plotline thus far.
But okay, let me back up a bit. I should throw in that they get married despite Bella's objections throughout the first few chapters. Yes, she begrudgingly marries Edward even though she doesn't really believe in marriage as part of a deal with him. He won't have sex with her until they're married, so she agrees. The entire deal is that they'll get married and go on a honeymoon while Bella is still human so that she can experience sex with human emotions and see what it's like before she becomes a vampire forever. Edward's not cool with this, as apparently a vampire is so powerful that sex with a human is very dangerous for the human, but ... a deal's a deal, right? So they get married and voila -- as soon as it's done, Bella is overcome with wonderful feelings. She's with her soulmate. Why had she been doubting this?
But the end of the wedding is where I started getting a little uncomfortable. Because Bella is becoming a vampire soon, and vampires must protect their secret from every human (except, I guess, if you're dating one) she acknowledges that she's never going to get to see her parents again. "My father and mother could not be allowed to see me again," she says, and she's okay with this because she's got her man. This is just like those Little Mermaid-esque stories about women who give up everything they know and love for the sake of being with their chosen man. For that to happen, the man should be pretty damn awesome. But, as you're about to find out, Edward is not.
Once they reach their tropical island honeymoon destination, Edward and Bella have sex in the ocean, and Bella wakes up the next morning with large bruises all over her body (such a strong, powerful vampire is he). We then spend pages and pages reading about Edward's moping ("I hurt you ... but I didn't mean to"), and Bella's reassurance ("It wasn't your fault!"). This ongoing conversation had disturbing undertones. We then learn that, in a fit of rage over what he'd done to Bella the night before, Edward had destroyed the bed pillows, and when Bella asks why, he responds, "I don't know ... we're just lucky it was the pillows and not you." Yes, he actually said that. Then Bella proceeds to shower (wash it away, wash it away), and then dresses herself in, quote, a "white cotton dress that concealed the worst of the violet blotches." Edward then makes her breakfast, we get more of the "it's not your fault" dialogue from Bella, and Edward finishes his sulking with the favorite promise: "I'll never hurt you again."
That's where the chapter ends. That's where I stopped. I don't know what Stephenie Meyer intended when writing this book, but for me the disturbing undertones were clear: "Sometimes your perfect man will hurt you. It's okay. He loves you. It's not his fault. He didn't mean to. Cover it up and show him love and support him and hopefully he'll never do it again." I know that the situation wasn't blatant -- in this situation, Edward really didn't mean to hurt her. But, still, that's part of the problem here. Edward didn't want to participate in human/vampire sex because he knew it could hurt his beloved, but Bella talked him into it. In the end, the entire thing was Bella's idea, so Edward can't be blamed because she had "made" him do it. Do you see what's happening here? Regardless, the messages are remarkably clear.
I realize that Ms. Meyer may not have meant to metaphorically slap across the face every woman who has ever been in an abusive relationship, that she probably didn't mean to leave me feeling so unsettled, but those things aren't even what's bothering me the most right now. It absolutely kills me that there are literally millions of girls and young women out there who are reading this shit and really believe that Edward Cullen is the epitome of male perfection. I know there are plenty of smart women out there who read these books for what they are, but I do know that there are some -- especially here, where they're most popular, in Meyer's home state of Utah (she now lives in Arizona) -- there are plenty more who will take this to heart. Knowing that there are so many girls who will believe that they can (and should) be coerced into a marriage they don't want, with someone who has a track record of controlling who her friends are, even if they have to give up ties to friends and family to do it, and that he might hurt you but it's okay because he didn't mean to kills me. It just kills me. And it's rhetoric like this, which is stronger than you think over here in Utah, that makes me so angry about the predominant culture here.
I don't know what other disgusting examples of abusive behavior take place in this book. What I've talked about occured in the first 98 pages of a 754-page book. I know that I don't entirely want to know, but the bigger problem is how to fight against such rhetoric. How can we make stronger women's voices heard over ones like "heroine" Bella's, and how do they override the damaging messages that media such as the Twilight saga, in all their popularity, endorse?
I know many people will roll their eyes at this. They'll say I'm making a mountatin out of a molehill, that I'm taking things out of context, that this is a love story and why am I making such a big deal out of it? I've heard it all before, and I call bullshit to it all. In many instances, Edward shows himself to be an abusive boyfriend, and no girl should be taught that he is the ideal. And while many girls read it as fantasy, someone should be standing up for the girls who are not, the girls who will be telling themselves to shut up and endure somewhere down the road. I won't lie -- it pisses me off, and I wish there were more people interested in being vocal about women's rights. It seems almost taboo these days.
So what can we do in situations like this one? Perhaps we should turn away, mind our own business, but I really wish more of us had more of a desire to push strong women in society, to give little girls real role models to look up to. At the risk of ranting all night, I'm closing now. I didn't get what I was looking for with the book, so I'll go play some Avatar: The Last Airbender on the PS2with Brendan...
I'm not even 100 pages in, and I'm already appalled -- so appalled, apparently, that I had to blog about it. I know that I've had this tired conversation with people many times before, but this deserves to be said as well as read, especially if you have anything at all against young adult authors promoting abusive relationships. Ms. Meyer goes a bit far with this one, in my humble opinion.
I won't waste too much time going over plots and such, but just so you get the gist of what I'm saying, here's what's been happening: the beginning of the book indulges in Bella and Edward's wedding. They get married at long last, go on their honeymoon and have sex for the first time. That's the basic plotline thus far.
But okay, let me back up a bit. I should throw in that they get married despite Bella's objections throughout the first few chapters. Yes, she begrudgingly marries Edward even though she doesn't really believe in marriage as part of a deal with him. He won't have sex with her until they're married, so she agrees. The entire deal is that they'll get married and go on a honeymoon while Bella is still human so that she can experience sex with human emotions and see what it's like before she becomes a vampire forever. Edward's not cool with this, as apparently a vampire is so powerful that sex with a human is very dangerous for the human, but ... a deal's a deal, right? So they get married and voila -- as soon as it's done, Bella is overcome with wonderful feelings. She's with her soulmate. Why had she been doubting this?
But the end of the wedding is where I started getting a little uncomfortable. Because Bella is becoming a vampire soon, and vampires must protect their secret from every human (except, I guess, if you're dating one) she acknowledges that she's never going to get to see her parents again. "My father and mother could not be allowed to see me again," she says, and she's okay with this because she's got her man. This is just like those Little Mermaid-esque stories about women who give up everything they know and love for the sake of being with their chosen man. For that to happen, the man should be pretty damn awesome. But, as you're about to find out, Edward is not.
Once they reach their tropical island honeymoon destination, Edward and Bella have sex in the ocean, and Bella wakes up the next morning with large bruises all over her body (such a strong, powerful vampire is he). We then spend pages and pages reading about Edward's moping ("I hurt you ... but I didn't mean to"), and Bella's reassurance ("It wasn't your fault!"). This ongoing conversation had disturbing undertones. We then learn that, in a fit of rage over what he'd done to Bella the night before, Edward had destroyed the bed pillows, and when Bella asks why, he responds, "I don't know ... we're just lucky it was the pillows and not you." Yes, he actually said that. Then Bella proceeds to shower (wash it away, wash it away), and then dresses herself in, quote, a "white cotton dress that concealed the worst of the violet blotches." Edward then makes her breakfast, we get more of the "it's not your fault" dialogue from Bella, and Edward finishes his sulking with the favorite promise: "I'll never hurt you again."
That's where the chapter ends. That's where I stopped. I don't know what Stephenie Meyer intended when writing this book, but for me the disturbing undertones were clear: "Sometimes your perfect man will hurt you. It's okay. He loves you. It's not his fault. He didn't mean to. Cover it up and show him love and support him and hopefully he'll never do it again." I know that the situation wasn't blatant -- in this situation, Edward really didn't mean to hurt her. But, still, that's part of the problem here. Edward didn't want to participate in human/vampire sex because he knew it could hurt his beloved, but Bella talked him into it. In the end, the entire thing was Bella's idea, so Edward can't be blamed because she had "made" him do it. Do you see what's happening here? Regardless, the messages are remarkably clear.
I realize that Ms. Meyer may not have meant to metaphorically slap across the face every woman who has ever been in an abusive relationship, that she probably didn't mean to leave me feeling so unsettled, but those things aren't even what's bothering me the most right now. It absolutely kills me that there are literally millions of girls and young women out there who are reading this shit and really believe that Edward Cullen is the epitome of male perfection. I know there are plenty of smart women out there who read these books for what they are, but I do know that there are some -- especially here, where they're most popular, in Meyer's home state of Utah (she now lives in Arizona) -- there are plenty more who will take this to heart. Knowing that there are so many girls who will believe that they can (and should) be coerced into a marriage they don't want, with someone who has a track record of controlling who her friends are, even if they have to give up ties to friends and family to do it, and that he might hurt you but it's okay because he didn't mean to kills me. It just kills me. And it's rhetoric like this, which is stronger than you think over here in Utah, that makes me so angry about the predominant culture here.
I don't know what other disgusting examples of abusive behavior take place in this book. What I've talked about occured in the first 98 pages of a 754-page book. I know that I don't entirely want to know, but the bigger problem is how to fight against such rhetoric. How can we make stronger women's voices heard over ones like "heroine" Bella's, and how do they override the damaging messages that media such as the Twilight saga, in all their popularity, endorse?
I know many people will roll their eyes at this. They'll say I'm making a mountatin out of a molehill, that I'm taking things out of context, that this is a love story and why am I making such a big deal out of it? I've heard it all before, and I call bullshit to it all. In many instances, Edward shows himself to be an abusive boyfriend, and no girl should be taught that he is the ideal. And while many girls read it as fantasy, someone should be standing up for the girls who are not, the girls who will be telling themselves to shut up and endure somewhere down the road. I won't lie -- it pisses me off, and I wish there were more people interested in being vocal about women's rights. It seems almost taboo these days.
So what can we do in situations like this one? Perhaps we should turn away, mind our own business, but I really wish more of us had more of a desire to push strong women in society, to give little girls real role models to look up to. At the risk of ranting all night, I'm closing now. I didn't get what I was looking for with the book, so I'll go play some Avatar: The Last Airbender on the PS2with Brendan...
Settling in for Winter
Well, even though I told myself I wouldn't, I stopped blogging for another few months. I went to Europe in May and then stopped blogging ... then updated in July and stopped blogging again ... and now here I am, at the tail-end of October, adding a new post. This was supposed to be a somewhat comprehensible "let's follow my life" diary kind of thing, but alas. Anyway, though, all of this is not what I wanted to blog about, so I'll let it go.
It's finally cooling down here in Logan, and we've had a few days of rain. The forecast says snow next week, but for some reason this doesn't bother me. It will, though. Once it snows. :) Next week should be overall relaxing, though. My students are giving presentations, so there's not a lot I have to do to prepare for class, other than a bit more grading. This will be a nice break for me.
Brendan and I have also been working on a play together, which has been fun and stressful all at the same time. Memorizing lines and music when you already don't have enough time in the day to breathe is a bit daunting, but it's been worth it. We were both cast in "A Christmas Carol" at the Old Barn Community Theatre. Yes, it's true ... after nine years off the stage I decided to start auditioning again. And, to make matters more interesting, the show I'm doing now is also the last one I did back when I was nineteen (not the same version, but the same story). And I've been cast in the same part (nine years ago I was "Isabel," and now I'm "Belle" -- go figure).
Brendan, though, after auditioning for the first time, was cast as Tiny Tim! He's ecstatic, and he's got all his lines memorized. The tough part for him is learning a British accent. When he rehearses, I wonder if it might be better for him to leave the accent out altogether (yes, it really is that bad), but hopefully it will come together. He's having fun, which is what's important.
I've also been doing a lot of thinking lately about what I want to do with myself once I finish my master's degree here at Utah State. Yes, in roughly six months (or so) I'll have a graduate degree in English literature and writing. So there's a huge decision to be made, as to what will come next. There are a few ideas that I've been throwing around for the past year -- apply to doctorate programs, find a program to certify me to teach high school, apply for jobs, etc. -- but I think that I know exactly what I want to do now.
Unlike many of my fellow grad students at USU, I've decided not to pursue further education at this point (at least not right now). I'm done with school. This is actually a refreshing feeling! I'm going to pursue a career now, in a few different areas. There are some amazing prospects out there that I'm looking into, and I'm really excited (if you want more info on this, e-mail me).
The biggest thing, though, is that I've decided to pick where I want to live first. This next move I'm making will be the last one until I'm done raising Brendan. I want to start building foundations for him, and establish a home for us. I eventually want to look into buying a house, and so rather than choosing a program or a job, I'm choosing a city. Of course the job market will play a role in this, but I know I have a job with Dixie State College teaching online classes, so I have some leeway with this. The important thing is that I'm going to go where I want to go, where I know that Brendan and I will be happy for at least the next twelve years. I have it narrowed down to a few places (again, if you want info on this send me an e-mail).
All right, that's enough life update for the time being.
It's finally cooling down here in Logan, and we've had a few days of rain. The forecast says snow next week, but for some reason this doesn't bother me. It will, though. Once it snows. :) Next week should be overall relaxing, though. My students are giving presentations, so there's not a lot I have to do to prepare for class, other than a bit more grading. This will be a nice break for me.
Brendan and I have also been working on a play together, which has been fun and stressful all at the same time. Memorizing lines and music when you already don't have enough time in the day to breathe is a bit daunting, but it's been worth it. We were both cast in "A Christmas Carol" at the Old Barn Community Theatre. Yes, it's true ... after nine years off the stage I decided to start auditioning again. And, to make matters more interesting, the show I'm doing now is also the last one I did back when I was nineteen (not the same version, but the same story). And I've been cast in the same part (nine years ago I was "Isabel," and now I'm "Belle" -- go figure).
Brendan, though, after auditioning for the first time, was cast as Tiny Tim! He's ecstatic, and he's got all his lines memorized. The tough part for him is learning a British accent. When he rehearses, I wonder if it might be better for him to leave the accent out altogether (yes, it really is that bad), but hopefully it will come together. He's having fun, which is what's important.
I've also been doing a lot of thinking lately about what I want to do with myself once I finish my master's degree here at Utah State. Yes, in roughly six months (or so) I'll have a graduate degree in English literature and writing. So there's a huge decision to be made, as to what will come next. There are a few ideas that I've been throwing around for the past year -- apply to doctorate programs, find a program to certify me to teach high school, apply for jobs, etc. -- but I think that I know exactly what I want to do now.
Unlike many of my fellow grad students at USU, I've decided not to pursue further education at this point (at least not right now). I'm done with school. This is actually a refreshing feeling! I'm going to pursue a career now, in a few different areas. There are some amazing prospects out there that I'm looking into, and I'm really excited (if you want more info on this, e-mail me).
The biggest thing, though, is that I've decided to pick where I want to live first. This next move I'm making will be the last one until I'm done raising Brendan. I want to start building foundations for him, and establish a home for us. I eventually want to look into buying a house, and so rather than choosing a program or a job, I'm choosing a city. Of course the job market will play a role in this, but I know I have a job with Dixie State College teaching online classes, so I have some leeway with this. The important thing is that I'm going to go where I want to go, where I know that Brendan and I will be happy for at least the next twelve years. I have it narrowed down to a few places (again, if you want info on this send me an e-mail).
All right, that's enough life update for the time being.
The (Hopefully) Last (Movie Filmed for This Franchise) Airbender
I knew this was going to happen. I blogged my way through Europe, and then stopped once I returned home to the United States. That was not my intention -- I had meant to continue blogging in order to maintain a journal of sorts, but it just didn't happen. The good news is that I have something to blog about now, so maybe this will kick-start my blogging activities again.
The other day, my boyfriend and I went to see The Last Airbender, the long-anticipated, live-action version of the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon series. This was no ordinary event -- I have been waiting for this movie for two years now, along with some family and friends, and I was so hopeful about this film that I made my boyfriend sit down and watch the entire series before we saw the movie. By the time it was released, he was excited to see it, too.
Before I continue, I should back up a bit. It's worth stating that the controversy surrounding this film was alive and well far before the release date was even announced. In fact, over a year ago, during the film's casting, there was already a huge boycott being set up by some Airbender fans, because M. Night and crew decided to take a story based on Asian mythology and folklore and cast white actors in all of its leading roles. This had some people really upset ... but I was more than willing to at least try and trust that these people were professionals, and probably knew what they were doing.
I am going to come right out and say that those in charge of this film did not know what they were doing, in any way, shape, or form. What they did was take a story with so much promise and potential, and transform it into a confusing mess of incomprehensible, lazily slapped together scenes stitched together by poorly delivered expository speeches.
The script writer for this movie didn't know how to show anything. Everything was "told," and it was told quite sloppily. And it's not that they were pressed for time, either -- the entire film was only about an hour and a half long, so they had more than enough time to work with so that the movie wouldn't feel so rushed. Let me give you a few examples of some of the cringe-worthy, expository dialogue:
Gran-Gran: "I think he may be the Avatar -- frozen for a hundred years!" (Something we come to know about Aang over the course of a few episodes in the series.)
Katara (as voice-over): "We made it to the Northern Water Tribe ... my brother and the princess became friends straight away!" (The relationship between Sokka and Yue was complicated but endearing when seen over the course of time in the series.)
Commander Zhao: "I think the Blue Spirit may be Prince Zuko!" (Just ... just ... sigh.)
Commander Zhao: "Your son died during the raid on Ba Sing Se, didn't he?" (In the series, we don't come to know about Iroh's son until a few seasons in, and it becomes a very heart-wrenching episode.)
In short, everything that should have been shown through scene was basically told. The audience is left feeling that the writers had absolutely no faith that they could follow anything or put two and two together. This script was written for a dumb audience.
And while I'm on the subject of the movie being rushed, I'm also confused as to how M. Night decided which parts of the series to keep and which ones to toss. There were some parts that were kept and given considerable screen time -- saving Haru's Earth Kingdom town, for example, and the Blue Spirit scene -- while others were simply glossed over or left out all together. There were certain things, such as the gender bias in the Northern Water Tribe that leaves Katara so passionate about being trained to be a master, that were very important, but not touched upon at all. In fact, Master Paku was also left out entirely -- it seemed as though Aang and Katara were trained by Yue's father, though there really weren't any training sessions shown. Both of them pretty much go from being waterbending amateurs to masters with no explanation as to how or why.
Master Paku wasn't the only character left out, either. No Bumi, no Suki, no Jong-Jong. No cross-breed animals. In fact, they could have left Appa and Momo out, for all of the necessity and screen time they were given.
While we're on the subject of characters, let me go a bit further into the casting. Beyond the original controversy over casting white actors in Asian roles, I felt this movie was one giant mis-cast. (Well, I'll go back to the controversy for a moment and point out that, for some reason, Katara, Sokka, and Gran-Gran were all white, but the rest of their tribe was Inuit. Nice choice, M. Night.) And, before I go into the acting, I'll also point out that the characters who were in it were obviously not researched at all. Aang was pronounced "Ahh-ng," Sokka was "Soe-ka," and Iroh was "Ee-ro," just to give a few examples. I couldn't figure out if this was some strange creative decision on M. Night's part, or if they just really didn't know any better. (UPDATE: Down the line, I did discover that M. Night researched the names and discovered that the original, cultural pronunciation of them did not match the series, so he changed those pronunciations. I can see the drive behind wanting to do that in order to give the film more authenticity, but it really didn't work out -- especially when you take your "authentic" Asian characters and make them white.)
But, okay, the casting. As Aang, Noah Ringer was given a heavy load to carry as the leading character in his first (and probably last) film ever. This kid, I've read, is a Tai-Kwan-Do master (and I'll give him credit for this -- his martial arts were pretty damn good), but his acting skills were close to nonexistent. His range of emotion never expanded beyond the slightly anxious, "how will I ever save the world" seriousness that you see in all the trailers. You never really see anger (at the death of his people), you never really see a developing interest in Katara, you never see frustration, you never see happiness ... you never really see much of anything. All of the quirky humor, early immaturity, and light-heartedness that Aang possessed in the series is completely absent. In short, you know the whole time that you aren't watching Aang -- you're watching some kid trained in martial arts who is dressed like Aang.
Moving on, Sokka had a similar problem. Jackson Rathbone has had more acting experience, but Sokka's entire demeanor -- the funny, always-trying-to-be-macho comic relief that he is -- is just not there. Rathbone tries to deliver some of Sokka's well-known, amusing one-liners, but all of them, without exception, fall flat. You could tell he knew what his character was about, and he was trying to get the job done, but unfortunately just couldn't do it.
As Katara, Nicola Peltz was one of the worst casting choices, as she possessed all of the problems I just mentioned, and then some. She obviously didn't know the character, she couldn't act (which was a problem, seeing as how most of the expository speeches delivered came from her), and her range of emotion never seemed to vary much.
Commander Zhao and Firelord Ozai never seemed to have any motivation for what they were doing -- they were just evil bastards who hated the world -- and Iroh, while encompassing the wise-old-man motif, had none of the humor and nuance you come to expect from him. One reference to tea managed to get a few chuckles from the audience. And Dev Patel didn't even come close to reaching the depth of Zuko's character. His portrayal of Zuko was a back-and-forth game of angry shouting and Robert Pattinson-esque ("I'm so troubled") pouting.
I honestly can't think of one character who was portrayed really well.
Beyond the acting, though, the characters had no development. As most Airbender fans know, the character development was part of what made the series so good. But nobody matures in this film -- nobody seems to move beyond were they were right at the beginning, including Aang. And because of the rushed nature of the film, you don't feel like you know anyone at all by the end. By the time Yue became the moon spirit, I was in more of a "hurry up and die already" mindset than a mourning one, and it was mostly because her character wasn't developed (she was only given a few minutes of screen time, but still). I felt no grieving for Sokka, either, despite his attempts at crying for her loss -- again, had we been given any time to see their relationship progress (beyond one small conversation), I might have felt something other than boredom. But I didn't. And, believe me, I felt that way about the entire film and all of its characters.
I think that has to be enough for now, but only because I've got a paper to work on. I might feel the need to gripe some more later, but for now let me just say that I hope they don't continue making the rest of this movie franchise. It's not worth it. With the reviews it's getting (I haven't read one good review, not one), I doubt they'll even try to go for the second and third, but for everyone's sake I really hope they don't. If you were a fan of this series, do yourself a favor and consider skipping it. Then, at least, you won't have to worry about trying to erase it from your mind like I do.
UPDATE:
Now that it's been years down the road, and the ever-memorable "Honest Movie Trailers" people have made quite a name for themselves over on YouTube, I thought I'd leave their Honest Trailer for The Last Airbender here for you to enjoy after my scathing review. It pretty much says everything. You're welcome.
The other day, my boyfriend and I went to see The Last Airbender, the long-anticipated, live-action version of the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon series. This was no ordinary event -- I have been waiting for this movie for two years now, along with some family and friends, and I was so hopeful about this film that I made my boyfriend sit down and watch the entire series before we saw the movie. By the time it was released, he was excited to see it, too.
Before I continue, I should back up a bit. It's worth stating that the controversy surrounding this film was alive and well far before the release date was even announced. In fact, over a year ago, during the film's casting, there was already a huge boycott being set up by some Airbender fans, because M. Night and crew decided to take a story based on Asian mythology and folklore and cast white actors in all of its leading roles. This had some people really upset ... but I was more than willing to at least try and trust that these people were professionals, and probably knew what they were doing.
I am going to come right out and say that those in charge of this film did not know what they were doing, in any way, shape, or form. What they did was take a story with so much promise and potential, and transform it into a confusing mess of incomprehensible, lazily slapped together scenes stitched together by poorly delivered expository speeches.
The script writer for this movie didn't know how to show anything. Everything was "told," and it was told quite sloppily. And it's not that they were pressed for time, either -- the entire film was only about an hour and a half long, so they had more than enough time to work with so that the movie wouldn't feel so rushed. Let me give you a few examples of some of the cringe-worthy, expository dialogue:
Gran-Gran: "I think he may be the Avatar -- frozen for a hundred years!" (Something we come to know about Aang over the course of a few episodes in the series.)
Katara (as voice-over): "We made it to the Northern Water Tribe ... my brother and the princess became friends straight away!" (The relationship between Sokka and Yue was complicated but endearing when seen over the course of time in the series.)
Commander Zhao: "I think the Blue Spirit may be Prince Zuko!" (Just ... just ... sigh.)
Commander Zhao: "Your son died during the raid on Ba Sing Se, didn't he?" (In the series, we don't come to know about Iroh's son until a few seasons in, and it becomes a very heart-wrenching episode.)
In short, everything that should have been shown through scene was basically told. The audience is left feeling that the writers had absolutely no faith that they could follow anything or put two and two together. This script was written for a dumb audience.
And while I'm on the subject of the movie being rushed, I'm also confused as to how M. Night decided which parts of the series to keep and which ones to toss. There were some parts that were kept and given considerable screen time -- saving Haru's Earth Kingdom town, for example, and the Blue Spirit scene -- while others were simply glossed over or left out all together. There were certain things, such as the gender bias in the Northern Water Tribe that leaves Katara so passionate about being trained to be a master, that were very important, but not touched upon at all. In fact, Master Paku was also left out entirely -- it seemed as though Aang and Katara were trained by Yue's father, though there really weren't any training sessions shown. Both of them pretty much go from being waterbending amateurs to masters with no explanation as to how or why.
Master Paku wasn't the only character left out, either. No Bumi, no Suki, no Jong-Jong. No cross-breed animals. In fact, they could have left Appa and Momo out, for all of the necessity and screen time they were given.
While we're on the subject of characters, let me go a bit further into the casting. Beyond the original controversy over casting white actors in Asian roles, I felt this movie was one giant mis-cast. (Well, I'll go back to the controversy for a moment and point out that, for some reason, Katara, Sokka, and Gran-Gran were all white, but the rest of their tribe was Inuit. Nice choice, M. Night.) And, before I go into the acting, I'll also point out that the characters who were in it were obviously not researched at all. Aang was pronounced "Ahh-ng," Sokka was "Soe-ka," and Iroh was "Ee-ro," just to give a few examples. I couldn't figure out if this was some strange creative decision on M. Night's part, or if they just really didn't know any better. (UPDATE: Down the line, I did discover that M. Night researched the names and discovered that the original, cultural pronunciation of them did not match the series, so he changed those pronunciations. I can see the drive behind wanting to do that in order to give the film more authenticity, but it really didn't work out -- especially when you take your "authentic" Asian characters and make them white.)
But, okay, the casting. As Aang, Noah Ringer was given a heavy load to carry as the leading character in his first (and probably last) film ever. This kid, I've read, is a Tai-Kwan-Do master (and I'll give him credit for this -- his martial arts were pretty damn good), but his acting skills were close to nonexistent. His range of emotion never expanded beyond the slightly anxious, "how will I ever save the world" seriousness that you see in all the trailers. You never really see anger (at the death of his people), you never really see a developing interest in Katara, you never see frustration, you never see happiness ... you never really see much of anything. All of the quirky humor, early immaturity, and light-heartedness that Aang possessed in the series is completely absent. In short, you know the whole time that you aren't watching Aang -- you're watching some kid trained in martial arts who is dressed like Aang.
Moving on, Sokka had a similar problem. Jackson Rathbone has had more acting experience, but Sokka's entire demeanor -- the funny, always-trying-to-be-macho comic relief that he is -- is just not there. Rathbone tries to deliver some of Sokka's well-known, amusing one-liners, but all of them, without exception, fall flat. You could tell he knew what his character was about, and he was trying to get the job done, but unfortunately just couldn't do it.
As Katara, Nicola Peltz was one of the worst casting choices, as she possessed all of the problems I just mentioned, and then some. She obviously didn't know the character, she couldn't act (which was a problem, seeing as how most of the expository speeches delivered came from her), and her range of emotion never seemed to vary much.
Commander Zhao and Firelord Ozai never seemed to have any motivation for what they were doing -- they were just evil bastards who hated the world -- and Iroh, while encompassing the wise-old-man motif, had none of the humor and nuance you come to expect from him. One reference to tea managed to get a few chuckles from the audience. And Dev Patel didn't even come close to reaching the depth of Zuko's character. His portrayal of Zuko was a back-and-forth game of angry shouting and Robert Pattinson-esque ("I'm so troubled") pouting.
I honestly can't think of one character who was portrayed really well.
Beyond the acting, though, the characters had no development. As most Airbender fans know, the character development was part of what made the series so good. But nobody matures in this film -- nobody seems to move beyond were they were right at the beginning, including Aang. And because of the rushed nature of the film, you don't feel like you know anyone at all by the end. By the time Yue became the moon spirit, I was in more of a "hurry up and die already" mindset than a mourning one, and it was mostly because her character wasn't developed (she was only given a few minutes of screen time, but still). I felt no grieving for Sokka, either, despite his attempts at crying for her loss -- again, had we been given any time to see their relationship progress (beyond one small conversation), I might have felt something other than boredom. But I didn't. And, believe me, I felt that way about the entire film and all of its characters.
I think that has to be enough for now, but only because I've got a paper to work on. I might feel the need to gripe some more later, but for now let me just say that I hope they don't continue making the rest of this movie franchise. It's not worth it. With the reviews it's getting (I haven't read one good review, not one), I doubt they'll even try to go for the second and third, but for everyone's sake I really hope they don't. If you were a fan of this series, do yourself a favor and consider skipping it. Then, at least, you won't have to worry about trying to erase it from your mind like I do.
UPDATE:
Adventures in Rome
Okay, I know that I was going to do a blog on French food, but writing about Italy simply has to come first. I will probably do a blog on both French and Italian food in the near future, but for now I need to write about my experiences in Milan and Rome ... it has been very exciting, to say the least!
Admittedly, I did not get to see very much of Milan. My flight to Milan (from Bordeaux) was canceled, and so they put me on a different flight the following day, but I did not even get there until around six in the evening, and I was due to fly out to Rome the following morning. So there was not very much in the way of exploring Milan, and I did not get to take a small trip to Verona as I had planned, but what I can say is that my flight to Rome took off without any problems ... and it has been amazing!
The first day I got here, I had a few problems finding the monastery I was staying at. It was a bitch getting to the bus station (because of the 200lb -- yes, I am exaggerating, but it certainly feels that heavy -- bag I was carrying), and then the taxi dropped me off on the wrong street, leaving me to wander narrow alleys with a what-feels-like-200-lb bag in tow.
This, though, is where I get to the part about Italian people being so kind. When I was in France, the people were kind enough, but it seemed as though whenever I opened my mouth and English came out, an air of disappointment and even antagonism tainted the rest of the conversation. Not so in Italy. I have met very many really nice Italians, two of whom were women that I met in one of those narrow alleys while trying to find my monastery. They not only pointed me in the right direction, but helped me carry my bag. Really, if it were not for them, my first day in Rome would have sucked much more.
But it did not suck! I got to my room, dropped off my stuff, and then headed down to the Colosseum, which was about a five minute walk away. At first, I could not find it. I knew it was supposed to be close, but I looked down this street and that street without knowing which way to turn. I felt kind of dumb, because I thought that something like the Colosseum really should not be that hard to find ... and then, low and behold, I turned again and saw, in the distance, the huge and breathtaking image of the Colosseum.
So I went that way.
I arrived there and took my time going through it. By this time, I have seen my share of ancient ruins, but this one was unlike any other. It is really difficult to describe something like this ... all I can say is that it is something you have to see for yourself to really understand what Im getting at (sorry for the lack of apostrophes in this post ... Im at an Internet cafe here in Rome, and I cannot for the life of me find the apostrophe key). Though some of the structure has been rebuilt time and again over the centuries, there are parts of it that are still in their BCE ruins ... a few staircases that I saw, and also the underground corridors where the gladiators used to roam before battles.
After the Colosseum, I wandered for a bit and then settled in at a little outdoor cafe to sip espresso, enjoy the sunset, and write postcards. Yes, those of you who are reading this have postcards coming. :)
On to day two. On my second day in Rome I decided to go see the Vatican. Thanks to Will, I had a good understanding for how the underground metro systems work in most European cities, so I had no trouble taking line B to line A and getting off at the right stop for the Vatican. And once there, I had no trouble following the mass crowds to the Vatican itself.
The day that I chose to see the Vatican was, to put it mildly, extremely crowded . The reason for this, though, is because I just happened to go on a day when the Pope was appearing to speak to the public. Needless to say, even though Im not Catholic, I thought to myself that since I was at the Vatican and the Pope was appearing, I might as well get a good look. After all, how often does a person get the chance to see the Pope in person at the Vatican? So, being a relatively small person, I wiggled my way to the front of the crowd and, squashed like a sardine into hoards of other sweaty bodies and overstuffed backpacks, waited for the Pope to arrive. Sure enough, a few minutes later Pope Benny rode right by me in his Pope-mobile, waving to the masses. I got a few pictures, but for the life of me could not stop Elton Johns song, Benny and the Jets, from repeating itself in my head throughout the entire event.
Okay, so I saw the Pope and then decided to see the Vatican museums. This meant that I got to see many of Raphaels works, as well as the Sistine Chapel (among other things), and a good view of the Vatican Gardens. And then I went to see St. Pauls Basilica (the queue just to get through security for this was absurd, but how could I go to Vatican City and not see St. Peters Basilica?). The inside of this church was amazing ... by far the most extravagent and breathtaking cathedral I have ever seen (and this includes Notre Dame de Paris). Being there kind of makes you understand why Catholics choose to be Catholic. Well, at least the ones in Rome.
I then took the metro back to my area of the city and explored the Roman Forum ruins. This took quite a bit of time, as the ruins are huge. I saw the remains of old houses (ones that were burnt during the time of Nero), too many ancient arches to count on one hand, temples dedicated to Saturn and Delphi, among others, and so much more. Not to mention great views of the city from areas high up. By the time I reached the end of my self-guided tour here, I was in a completely different part of the city, and I then had to find my way back. You know me, though -- I got lost during this process. It did not, however, bother me. I enjoyed taking in all of the different parts of the city as I found my way back to the monastery.
Today I slept in a bit and then went to see the Pantheon. It was originally a pagan temple, and then, during the medieval days of Rome, was turned into a church. I had a hard time finding it, as there is no metro station close by, but I took the metro anyway and then walked the fifteen minutes to get to the actual Pantheon.
Well ... no, not really. It should have taken me fifteen minutes, but it took me close to an hour to find it because I kept getting lost. I asked for directions multiple times, stopped for a coffee (which was given to me as what tasted like warm, fudge-flavored ice cream, and required a few units of insulin), and then finally found the damn thing. It was really beautiful from the outside, but even more beautiful on the inside. There were various things I saw in this small little temple, including the tombs of the first and second kings of Italy, and also the tomb of the artist Raphael.
I have pictures of all of these things, and will upload them to Facebook when I get a chance to. But for now, let me just say that Rome has been amazing. Let me put it this way: I loved Paris with all of my heart and soul, and loved London even more than that, but I can honestly say that Rome comes before even London for me. The city is just beautiful and awe-inspiring. I have absolutely no gripes about it (except for having to cover my shoulders to get into St. Peters and the Pantheon. If you ever visit Rome and you are female, do not forget that if you want to see some of the sacred sites, you will need to be dressed modestly. They are very strict and serious about this). And, of course, I am missing Will. Rome is amazing, for sure, but there is something lonely about visiting by ones self, especially when I have been seeing everything else with my partner. But individual time has also been nice, for both of us I am sure, and tomorrow I fly back to London.
There is so much more to say, including everything about the food (mozzarella, tomato, and pancetti sandwiches; gnocchi and cheese; thin-crusted pizza; salad with green olives and fist-sized mounds of soft, real mozzarella), but I am getting ahead of myself. I will close now, and do my best to contain myself until my next post.
Arrivederci, my loved ones.
Admittedly, I did not get to see very much of Milan. My flight to Milan (from Bordeaux) was canceled, and so they put me on a different flight the following day, but I did not even get there until around six in the evening, and I was due to fly out to Rome the following morning. So there was not very much in the way of exploring Milan, and I did not get to take a small trip to Verona as I had planned, but what I can say is that my flight to Rome took off without any problems ... and it has been amazing!
The first day I got here, I had a few problems finding the monastery I was staying at. It was a bitch getting to the bus station (because of the 200lb -- yes, I am exaggerating, but it certainly feels that heavy -- bag I was carrying), and then the taxi dropped me off on the wrong street, leaving me to wander narrow alleys with a what-feels-like-200-lb bag in tow.
This, though, is where I get to the part about Italian people being so kind. When I was in France, the people were kind enough, but it seemed as though whenever I opened my mouth and English came out, an air of disappointment and even antagonism tainted the rest of the conversation. Not so in Italy. I have met very many really nice Italians, two of whom were women that I met in one of those narrow alleys while trying to find my monastery. They not only pointed me in the right direction, but helped me carry my bag. Really, if it were not for them, my first day in Rome would have sucked much more.
But it did not suck! I got to my room, dropped off my stuff, and then headed down to the Colosseum, which was about a five minute walk away. At first, I could not find it. I knew it was supposed to be close, but I looked down this street and that street without knowing which way to turn. I felt kind of dumb, because I thought that something like the Colosseum really should not be that hard to find ... and then, low and behold, I turned again and saw, in the distance, the huge and breathtaking image of the Colosseum.
So I went that way.
I arrived there and took my time going through it. By this time, I have seen my share of ancient ruins, but this one was unlike any other. It is really difficult to describe something like this ... all I can say is that it is something you have to see for yourself to really understand what Im getting at (sorry for the lack of apostrophes in this post ... Im at an Internet cafe here in Rome, and I cannot for the life of me find the apostrophe key). Though some of the structure has been rebuilt time and again over the centuries, there are parts of it that are still in their BCE ruins ... a few staircases that I saw, and also the underground corridors where the gladiators used to roam before battles.
After the Colosseum, I wandered for a bit and then settled in at a little outdoor cafe to sip espresso, enjoy the sunset, and write postcards. Yes, those of you who are reading this have postcards coming. :)
On to day two. On my second day in Rome I decided to go see the Vatican. Thanks to Will, I had a good understanding for how the underground metro systems work in most European cities, so I had no trouble taking line B to line A and getting off at the right stop for the Vatican. And once there, I had no trouble following the mass crowds to the Vatican itself.
The day that I chose to see the Vatican was, to put it mildly, extremely crowded . The reason for this, though, is because I just happened to go on a day when the Pope was appearing to speak to the public. Needless to say, even though Im not Catholic, I thought to myself that since I was at the Vatican and the Pope was appearing, I might as well get a good look. After all, how often does a person get the chance to see the Pope in person at the Vatican? So, being a relatively small person, I wiggled my way to the front of the crowd and, squashed like a sardine into hoards of other sweaty bodies and overstuffed backpacks, waited for the Pope to arrive. Sure enough, a few minutes later Pope Benny rode right by me in his Pope-mobile, waving to the masses. I got a few pictures, but for the life of me could not stop Elton Johns song, Benny and the Jets, from repeating itself in my head throughout the entire event.
Okay, so I saw the Pope and then decided to see the Vatican museums. This meant that I got to see many of Raphaels works, as well as the Sistine Chapel (among other things), and a good view of the Vatican Gardens. And then I went to see St. Pauls Basilica (the queue just to get through security for this was absurd, but how could I go to Vatican City and not see St. Peters Basilica?). The inside of this church was amazing ... by far the most extravagent and breathtaking cathedral I have ever seen (and this includes Notre Dame de Paris). Being there kind of makes you understand why Catholics choose to be Catholic. Well, at least the ones in Rome.
I then took the metro back to my area of the city and explored the Roman Forum ruins. This took quite a bit of time, as the ruins are huge. I saw the remains of old houses (ones that were burnt during the time of Nero), too many ancient arches to count on one hand, temples dedicated to Saturn and Delphi, among others, and so much more. Not to mention great views of the city from areas high up. By the time I reached the end of my self-guided tour here, I was in a completely different part of the city, and I then had to find my way back. You know me, though -- I got lost during this process. It did not, however, bother me. I enjoyed taking in all of the different parts of the city as I found my way back to the monastery.
Today I slept in a bit and then went to see the Pantheon. It was originally a pagan temple, and then, during the medieval days of Rome, was turned into a church. I had a hard time finding it, as there is no metro station close by, but I took the metro anyway and then walked the fifteen minutes to get to the actual Pantheon.
Well ... no, not really. It should have taken me fifteen minutes, but it took me close to an hour to find it because I kept getting lost. I asked for directions multiple times, stopped for a coffee (which was given to me as what tasted like warm, fudge-flavored ice cream, and required a few units of insulin), and then finally found the damn thing. It was really beautiful from the outside, but even more beautiful on the inside. There were various things I saw in this small little temple, including the tombs of the first and second kings of Italy, and also the tomb of the artist Raphael.
I have pictures of all of these things, and will upload them to Facebook when I get a chance to. But for now, let me just say that Rome has been amazing. Let me put it this way: I loved Paris with all of my heart and soul, and loved London even more than that, but I can honestly say that Rome comes before even London for me. The city is just beautiful and awe-inspiring. I have absolutely no gripes about it (except for having to cover my shoulders to get into St. Peters and the Pantheon. If you ever visit Rome and you are female, do not forget that if you want to see some of the sacred sites, you will need to be dressed modestly. They are very strict and serious about this). And, of course, I am missing Will. Rome is amazing, for sure, but there is something lonely about visiting by ones self, especially when I have been seeing everything else with my partner. But individual time has also been nice, for both of us I am sure, and tomorrow I fly back to London.
There is so much more to say, including everything about the food (mozzarella, tomato, and pancetti sandwiches; gnocchi and cheese; thin-crusted pizza; salad with green olives and fist-sized mounds of soft, real mozzarella), but I am getting ahead of myself. I will close now, and do my best to contain myself until my next post.
Arrivederci, my loved ones.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)