web analytics

Tearjerkers

I mentioned in an earlier posting that I don’t really cry at movies or television shows. I get choked up every now and then, and I can even appreciate honest sentiment without getting worked up about it (and, as I’ve said, I really despise it when it’s done to manipulate an audience). But anyway, W Magazine asked a number of actors about movies that made them cry. Here is what they said.

For me, it was The Fox & the Hound. Jesus. I’ve never cried like that before, and I hope never to cry like that again. I mean, family members have died without me bawling like I did at that movie. I only watched it once. That was all I could take; I’d be terrified to try again, even now. I still have the VHS tape somewhere . . . I remember I was up in my room (yes, I had my own telly and VCR, I was that kind of brat), and I popped it in. I’d never seen it in the cinema, and I don’t remember now who gave me the tape or if I bought it or what. I just remember sobbing my eyes out all over my bedspread. I went downstairs and crawled into bed next to my mother and cried and cried, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what was wrong with me. I’m just not a crier. I generally only cry when I’m laughing too hard. And my poor mother, not able to get a coherent word out of me, but she took it in stride and I think I ended up watching an old episode of Columbo with her to make me feel better.

What movie has made you cry?

One Down

Here were my goals for 2012, which I posted at the beginning of the year:

  • Finish “St. Peter in Chains”
  • Finish “The K-Pro”
  • Finish the spec script
  • Get at least one more play accepted for production somewhere

Well! I’m pleased to note that “St. Peter in Chains” is finished, at least in first draft form. It’s a novelette at the moment, coming in at just under 16,000 words. There’s a chance I’ll try to lengthen it into a full novel. And an equal chance I’ll convert it into a stage play. Maybe I’ll get ambitious and do both, but in the meantime I have several other goals on the list to tackle.

“The Reichenbach Fall” – Talking Points

The Globes were boring, so let’s take another look at Sherlock, shall we?

I first want to go over Sherlock’s faked suicide. Consider:

  1. There had been people on the street previously, but by the time John arrived, the street was empty.
  2. Sherlock went to great pains to make sure John would believe the evidence of his eyes but was careful to position John just far enough away . . .
  3. . . . that John would not get the opportunity to gather any other kind of evidence, thanks to (a) John [in]conveniently being hit by a bicycle, and (b) a sudden crowd of onlookers preventing him from getting very close to the body.

I can only suppose when Sherlock asked Molly for help, it was in the capacity of her needing to do the “autopsy.” (Though, less likely, she could just as easily have been the person on the bike.)

Now let’s look at the contents of the newscast featured on John’s blog, which raises some questions:

  1. They discuss Sherlock as if they know little about him, but if Kitty ran that story that supposedly had so much of Sherlock’s life history in it, why treat Sherlock as if he were such a mystery?
  2. And no mention of Sherlock having a brother? Though this is less suspect, since Mycroft would go to lengths to stay out of it.
  3. Most importantly: they discuss Richard Brook but fail to mention his death. Since it’s standard police procedure, even in a suicide, to take evidence from the scene, one can safely assume they went to the roof and at least picked up Sherlock’s phone. But Brook’s/Moriarty’s body? Anyone? (Either Moriarty isn’t dead or someone cleaned the scene very quickly prior to the police arriving.)
  4. And why (if, as John’s blog indicates, this all takes place in June) is Sherlock running around in a long coat and scarf? Just for his image?

Finally, do we really believe that Mycroft snared Moriarty and fed him little tidbits of information about Sherlock only to walk away with nothing to show? After all, if the key (computer code) didn’t really exist, at what point and for what possible reason would Mycroft bother to release Moriarty at all? (And while we’re at it, why release Moriarty even if there were a key?) One could argue that maybe Moriarty had failsafes installed in his network, that if he disappeared for too long many terrible things were set to happen, but then one also has to ask what happens in the network if Moriarty dies. Meanwhile, we have to assume that either Mycroft did get something useful from Moriarty, OR . . . The intention in holding Moriarty, and then releasing him, was somewhat more sinister.

Though, on the flip side, Mycroft’s and Sherlock’s utter lack of interaction in the episode could mean they were playing John between them all along. In which case the whole of what happened, including the resulting faux suicide, had been planned, probably with the notion of beginning to tear apart Moriarty’s web, something Sherlock could do so much more effectively as a “dead” man.

Discuss.

Sherlock: “The Reichenbach Fall”

I was told there would be tears. There weren’t. I mean, not in my eyes anyway. This probably says more about me than about the programme.

I liked “The Reichenbach Fall.” But I did find some of the plot points (and interactions) overly manufactured and forced. One way to look at it is, I suppose, that it was by its very nature meant to be manufactured. Kind of the point of the story. Although it started stronger than it finished. I’m thinking mostly of Sherlock and Moriarty on the roof, which simply should have been . . . better. But the entire episode should have appeared more effortless, I think, on the whole. Maybe I’ll feel differently when I watch it again later, but I have the Golden Globes to get on with. Need to shower and get dressed and all that. More to come. About the Globes or Sherlock, whichever I’m feeling at the time.

Event: An Evening with BAFTA Winning Costume Designer Ray Holman

From the Drama Association of Wales:

In a couple of weeks time, we will be holding an event that we thought you may be interested in. We have included all the details below:

DAW Presents An Evening with…
Ray Holman
BAFTA award winning costume designer is back in Cardiff for one night only.

BAFTA award winning costume designer Ray Holman whose recent work includes BBC’s Silk, Torchwood, Doctor Who, Law & Order, and Sherlock is coming to the Kuku Club in the Park Plaza Hotel, Cardiff on Friday 3rd February .

Ray will take the audience through how his career began, how he made the choice between acting and design, how he made the move from TV to Theatre and back again as well as winning a BAFTA, working on the socially driven drama adaptation The Hunt for the Yorkshire Ripper and most recently working on the renowned and cult favourite Doctor Who.

Past credits include Pobol Y Cwm, Band of Gold, Sea of Souls, Peak Practice, Rab C Nesbitt, Born and Bred, Law & Order, and Torchwood.

Join Ray Holman in association with the Drama Association of Wales at the Kuku Club, Park Plaza, Cardiff for an intimate evening with Ray, a question and answer session as well as showcasing sketches, productions shots and the real work.

Ray graduated from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama in 1984. Since then, he has gone onto work at the BBC, Granada, Carlton, Yorkshire Television and ITV.

Tickets range from £10.00 – £15.00 and can booked via the Box Office on 029 2045 2200 or online*

*online sales carry a small transaction charge

If you would like any further information please do not hesitate to contact me Harriet@dramawales.org.uk

Teaser Tuesday: The White Devil

Have really been enjoying this book by Justin Evans. It’s a kind of ghost story and murder mystery involving Lord Byron (even though it’s set in present day). Lots of good options for teasers . . . This one comes from page 95.

But Andrew couldn’t calm down, because it had arrived, the moment something horrible was going to happen. He had not seen it, but he had felt it coming, and the only way to get it out of him—his body knew, even if he didn’t—was to scream, scream over and over, as loud as his lungs allowed.

A Few More Things

. . . in regards to “Hounds of Baskerville,” I mean. In no particular order:

  1. Upon consideration, I’m pretty sure Mycroft sent the Bluebell e-mail. Otherwise it’s just too huge a coincidence. Mycroft wanted Sherlock at Baskerville.
  2. So am I supposed to believe that dog that belonged to the innkeepers was the creature that made the gigantic paw prints? It was a big dog, sure, but that big? Didn’t seem like it. Although I suppose the prints could have been part of the plan to bring in more tourists. (And btw, Lestrade is a lousy shot.)
  3. How is it no one mentioned the big explosion at Baskerville the following day? Seems like that would have been a hot topic. At the very least, Mycroft was likely to be irritated.
  4. I found Henry a bit whiny and unlikable. Seems like a rich kid who lost his parents at a young age should find something to occupy his time . . . Hey, isn’t that Batman’s whole story?
  5. If you had thought about it for even two seconds, John, you might have realized there was no “hound” in the lab. Otherwise it would have jumped Sherlock first thing when he came to fetch you. ::rolling eyes::
  6. Anyone else wondering why Mycroft wears a ring on his right hand?
  7. I also feel like we should have seen Fletcher one more time for some reason. And/or seen Henry pull himself together after it was all said and done.
  8. Didn’t the Baskerville symbol remind you of the Dharma station insignia from Lost?
  9. Why backspace over the first “a” in “Margaret” if you’re going to type “Maggie”? I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does. Because it lacks efficiency I suppose.

I’ve been assured I will cry—or at the very least tear up—next week. I have my doubts. I can count on one hand the films and television programs that have made me cry (top of the list: The Fox & the Hound). I mostly get angry at things that attempt to manipulate me into an emotional response. I can usually tell the difference between something written from the heart and something done for effect. So we’ll see . . .

Sherlock: “The Hounds of Baskerville”

Well, I’ve been asked already what I thought of the episode, but honestly, I didn’t think much of anything one way or another. To be sure, I didn’t think it was scary at all. And I had the villain and the chief plot point figured out pretty early, so . . . I mean, it was pretty obvious that the reason John didn’t see the hound when Henry and Sherlock did is because he wasn’t with them. And it was equally obvious the only reason Henry and Sherlock saw it was because of a hallucinogen. Clearly they’d been exposed to something—in that particular location—that John had avoided. Never mind things eaten, &c. What would be likely to work at so exact a pace that it would kick in right when they were in the woods? You see. Obvious.

I did like the interplay between Sherlock and John. Although I think the cigarette bit at the beginning was a tad overdone. I liked seeing Sherlock shaken, too; it was a nice bit of acting.

Here’s one thing I haven’t had time to think about or investigate, so maybe someone will enlighten me before I go to the trouble: did we conveniently forget U.M.Q.R.A. or did John have really rusty Morse Code skills? Although why someone would advertise across the moors is anyone’s guess. Did it have to do with the cars? Maybe it’s a British thing I’m simply unfamiliar with.

That’s all for now, as I’ve been summoned for Trivial Pursuit.

The Sentimentalist

No, it’s not a new television show, though maybe I should develop it?

Yesterday was Twelfth Night, and traditionally I bake a cake with a sixpence in it. For years and years I used the same sixpence, and I went on a hunt for it last night before remembering that it was also the same sixpence I’d worn in my shoe on my wedding day and that it is now encased in a glass shadowbox commemorating the event.

We used a nickel because I didn’t have another sixpence handy.

But during the hunt, I found myself going through many boxes of things. Because, you see, I keep things. Not junk, mind, I’m no hoarder. But items of sentimental value. I can’t bear to part with them. All my old report cards and school papers, copies of just about everything I’ve ever written (no matter how awful), [almost] every letter and card from a friend (so long as it had a note and not just a signature), postcards, diaries and datebooks, magazines with interesting articles that I might want to reference . . . And, of course, a lot of old photographs. It’s a cinch that, should a historian ever want to research me, he or she will have plenty of material.

And only some of it is here, where I live. My parents complain constantly about the huge amount of stuff I’ve left for them to store.

I know I need to go through it all. I know I need to pare it down to the bare bones of my memories. I need to make room for my future after all. And it’s amazing how much I looked at last night and thought, I don’t remember this at all, or, I’d forgotten about that! If I haven’t missed it, shouldn’t I toss it?

But no. Because finding it again is such a treasure in itself.