I love fairy tale adaptations. There's just something brilliant and magical about fairy tales themselves (and even those, the way we know them best, are often adaptations), but when you put an unexpected twist on them, the magic is there to discover anew.
Cruel Beauty, by Rosamund Hodge, reinvents the tale of Beauty and the Beast, a particular beloved one of mine. Nyx's father made a deal with the devil, and now Nyx must pay, by marrying and killing the demon ruler himself, if she can. It's all she's been raised to do. But Nyx deeply resents it. Why was her twin sister the child her father chose to love? Why did her father seek a bargain with the creature in the first place, if he knew those bargains always had undesirable consequences? When Nyx finally meets Ignifex, he seems as cunning and despicable as she's always heard. But Nyx is no saint herself, and somewhere deep inside, she understands him. And then she kisses an imprisoned shadow...
Though I would dearly love to say more, I hate spoilers. This young adult novel really grabbed me from the get-go. Nyx is far from perfect, and her imperfections made her a character I could identify with all the more. Though I love Disney's sweet and innocent and kind Belle, I don't identify with her as much as I do with someone who is torn between right and wrong, knowing what she should do but feeling otherwise. And I don't think I'm the only one who doubts and struggles. So, while I do like good to triumph in the end, if the journey there is a little more rocky, I appreciate that.
On the other hand, there are some dark aspects to this story, obviously. The Gentle Lord, as the beast is ironically called, rules the demon shadows and keeps them at bay. If they are released or escape to wreak havoc, they make their victims go insane, and Hodge's descriptions are chilling and somewhat graphic, though I admire her ability with words. That, along with some sexuality, make this a book for older teens and other readers.
Overall, though, I wasn't bothered by the books depictions of the depravity and greed of man's heart, and when it matters most, good does triumph. If that's a spoiler, then I'm sorry, but if you know me, then you know I wouldn't like the book otherwise.
The book ends with a twist that I found perfect and another I didn't like as much, so I had some mixed emotions there. Thematically, the end is just right. As for the plot, I wasn't completely satisfied. It ends as you would expect a good fairy tale to end, but it cheapens some of the earlier story. I can't be more specific without spoiling.
Nonetheless, this beautifully written, movingly relevant story is one I won't soon forget. Four stars.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Friday, January 17, 2014
Cruel Beauty
Labels:
Beauty and the Beast,
demons,
fairytale adaptation,
greed,
love
Frozen in Theaters Now
(Review contains minor SPOILERS)
I had little interest in seeing Frozen (PG, 102 min.) until people started talking about the story and saying how good it was. From the previews, I thought it was some silly story about a snowman and a reindeer fighting over a carrot. The movie poster predominantly features this snowman as well. Seriously, who thought that was a good hook for this movie? Actually, Frozen puts a spin on Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale of The Snow Queen, telling the tale of two sisters growing apart because of the eldest's dangerous ability to turn the world to ice. When they are children, Elsa accidentally injures Anna, and because of this, their parents find a way to erase Anna's memories of Elsa's powers and make Elsa hide her ability. But when it comes time for Elsa to be queen, she is unable to hide the truth any longer, and it will be up to Anna to set the world right.
It's a very well-done Disney princess epic, if you like those kind of things, and I do. Though I'd like to see Disney try something new, I have to say this story is beautiful and fresh in many ways. The biggest way is that the plot doesn't all hinge on romantic love. In fact, the story plays with that a little in what is almost a parody of love at first sight. But when it comes right down to the important stuff, it's about the love of two sisters.
I was so pleased to see that the talking snowman is a rather minor character in the movie. Anymore of him would have been annoying. As it was, I didn't love him, but he does provide a few moments of silly fun, including a song that doesn't talk about what happens to snow in the summer. The scene of the carrot, shown in the previews, is not even in the movie.
Before I saw this, a friend of mine, Tim, was talking about one of the big song numbers from the movie, "Let It Go." Apparently, it's getting a lot of praise and even Oscar nods. It's definitely a beautiful, catchy song, but Tim is right, it's not quite the high point of the story. Elsa has found freedom of sorts, but it's a freedom that comes at the price of everyone else's. Her freedom hurts others. The song celebrates Disney's old, overused mantra: be yourself and be anything you want to be. Though the movie eventually comes around to showing the consequences of being yourself without regard to anyone, I'm not sure we are getting the right message. One is being belted out at the top of our lungs, and one is disguised as a feel-good ending. Which one is going to stick?
Overall, though, I was very pleased with the movie. The characters are lively and original, including the love interest. The music is memorable and worthy to be included among the epic tunes of Disney's greats. The animation is breathtaking and colorful, particularly the ice scenes. The story is not too rote. This is one I would be happy to own.
I had little interest in seeing Frozen (PG, 102 min.) until people started talking about the story and saying how good it was. From the previews, I thought it was some silly story about a snowman and a reindeer fighting over a carrot. The movie poster predominantly features this snowman as well. Seriously, who thought that was a good hook for this movie? Actually, Frozen puts a spin on Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale of The Snow Queen, telling the tale of two sisters growing apart because of the eldest's dangerous ability to turn the world to ice. When they are children, Elsa accidentally injures Anna, and because of this, their parents find a way to erase Anna's memories of Elsa's powers and make Elsa hide her ability. But when it comes time for Elsa to be queen, she is unable to hide the truth any longer, and it will be up to Anna to set the world right.
It's a very well-done Disney princess epic, if you like those kind of things, and I do. Though I'd like to see Disney try something new, I have to say this story is beautiful and fresh in many ways. The biggest way is that the plot doesn't all hinge on romantic love. In fact, the story plays with that a little in what is almost a parody of love at first sight. But when it comes right down to the important stuff, it's about the love of two sisters.
I was so pleased to see that the talking snowman is a rather minor character in the movie. Anymore of him would have been annoying. As it was, I didn't love him, but he does provide a few moments of silly fun, including a song that doesn't talk about what happens to snow in the summer. The scene of the carrot, shown in the previews, is not even in the movie.
Before I saw this, a friend of mine, Tim, was talking about one of the big song numbers from the movie, "Let It Go." Apparently, it's getting a lot of praise and even Oscar nods. It's definitely a beautiful, catchy song, but Tim is right, it's not quite the high point of the story. Elsa has found freedom of sorts, but it's a freedom that comes at the price of everyone else's. Her freedom hurts others. The song celebrates Disney's old, overused mantra: be yourself and be anything you want to be. Though the movie eventually comes around to showing the consequences of being yourself without regard to anyone, I'm not sure we are getting the right message. One is being belted out at the top of our lungs, and one is disguised as a feel-good ending. Which one is going to stick?
Overall, though, I was very pleased with the movie. The characters are lively and original, including the love interest. The music is memorable and worthy to be included among the epic tunes of Disney's greats. The animation is breathtaking and colorful, particularly the ice scenes. The story is not too rote. This is one I would be happy to own.
Labels:
Disney animation,
fairytale adaptation,
love,
sisters,
The Snow Queen
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Outlaw
Have I ever said how much I love Ted Dekker? (Okay, okay, I know...how many books does he have now? 25? 30? It's about that many times.) I realize he's not everyone's cup of tea. He's an intense guy who's intensely passionate about God and whose intensity bleeds out of the pages of his books into your own heart as you read. Lately, I'd started to find a lot of his books, mainly his thrillers, similar. Still good, but not my favorites. Still intense and meaningful, but not hitting me in quite the same way as earlier novels. Still worth reading.
But Outlaw is brand new. It's not strictly a thriller, more of a drama, but it has many of the elements of Dekker's suspenseful stories, and then some.
It's, perhaps, a more personal story for Dekker, who grew up as a missionary kid in New Guinea where this novel is set, among a native cannibalistic people from whom he no doubt drew much inspiration for the fictional Tulim natives of the book. Dekker admits as much in an author's note. As the daughter of missionaries myself, I have long wanted to hear more of Dekker's personal story, and while this isn't quite it, it's closer than ever before.
Outlaw, which, let's be clear, is still fiction, is a story about a woman who follows a dream to the other side of the world only to find herself captured and enslaved by a savage, proud people, a tribe of undiscovered headhunters in the most remote and inaccessible corner of the earth. Alone, reeling from the loss of her two-year-old son (as a mother of two young ones myself, I ached with her), terrified, she believes the dream was a fantasy and that God has forsaken her. Slowly, difficultly, she bows to the laws of her new world, knowing she will never escape it.
I don't want to tell you the rest of the story, but of course, with Ted Dekker, you know it doesn't end there. This is a story about identity, who we are, or think we are, versus how God sees us. This story is rich with beauty on so many levels. My grandparents worked with a tribe of natives in the jungles of Peru, and I have always had trouble seeing the beauty in a culture that is so primitive, even though I've lived on the mission field (though not with natives) myself. When Outlaw began, I felt the same way, but somehow, through the journey, I began to see differently. Dekker makes his characters accessible, even when their whole system of beliefs is foreign, but of course, it helps that he uses a main character who is much more familiar to us.
Even more than the beauty of the culture and the land is the beauty of Dekker's insight into life and God's heart and eternal values. As Dekker puts it in Outlaw, the person we think we are is actually just a costume that goes insane with the fears of the world, but our souls, who we truly are, stripped of our bodies, are perfectly safe and perfectly loved.
Dekker puts it all together into a fascinating story of blackest evil versus purest light, his signature stamp, but with powerful new themes to explore and a terribly beautiful new setting to immerse yourself in. For fans and newbies to Dekker alike. If you've never read Ted Dekker, here's a good place to start. Five stars.
But Outlaw is brand new. It's not strictly a thriller, more of a drama, but it has many of the elements of Dekker's suspenseful stories, and then some.
It's, perhaps, a more personal story for Dekker, who grew up as a missionary kid in New Guinea where this novel is set, among a native cannibalistic people from whom he no doubt drew much inspiration for the fictional Tulim natives of the book. Dekker admits as much in an author's note. As the daughter of missionaries myself, I have long wanted to hear more of Dekker's personal story, and while this isn't quite it, it's closer than ever before.
Outlaw, which, let's be clear, is still fiction, is a story about a woman who follows a dream to the other side of the world only to find herself captured and enslaved by a savage, proud people, a tribe of undiscovered headhunters in the most remote and inaccessible corner of the earth. Alone, reeling from the loss of her two-year-old son (as a mother of two young ones myself, I ached with her), terrified, she believes the dream was a fantasy and that God has forsaken her. Slowly, difficultly, she bows to the laws of her new world, knowing she will never escape it.
I don't want to tell you the rest of the story, but of course, with Ted Dekker, you know it doesn't end there. This is a story about identity, who we are, or think we are, versus how God sees us. This story is rich with beauty on so many levels. My grandparents worked with a tribe of natives in the jungles of Peru, and I have always had trouble seeing the beauty in a culture that is so primitive, even though I've lived on the mission field (though not with natives) myself. When Outlaw began, I felt the same way, but somehow, through the journey, I began to see differently. Dekker makes his characters accessible, even when their whole system of beliefs is foreign, but of course, it helps that he uses a main character who is much more familiar to us.
Even more than the beauty of the culture and the land is the beauty of Dekker's insight into life and God's heart and eternal values. As Dekker puts it in Outlaw, the person we think we are is actually just a costume that goes insane with the fears of the world, but our souls, who we truly are, stripped of our bodies, are perfectly safe and perfectly loved.
Dekker puts it all together into a fascinating story of blackest evil versus purest light, his signature stamp, but with powerful new themes to explore and a terribly beautiful new setting to immerse yourself in. For fans and newbies to Dekker alike. If you've never read Ted Dekker, here's a good place to start. Five stars.
Labels:
drama,
headhunters,
identity,
jungle,
loss,
love,
missions,
primitive people,
Ted Dekker
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Allegiant
Although I will try to avoid major SPOILERS, for those of you interested in reading Veronica Roth's Divergent series, you'll probably want to stop reading this review.
I was really impressed by Veronica Roth's story when I began this series with Divergent, reviewed here. Now that I have read Allegiant, the conclusion to the trilogy, I have mixed feelings. Divergent has not lost its luster. And there were aspects of this final novel that still impressed me. I'll get to those in a minute. But overall, Allegiant just wasn't as easy to read for various reasons. There's not as much movement and danger as in the first two books. There's a lot of sitting around thinking. The book is also narrated differently, by two main characters rather than just Tris. And the biggest cause of my mixed feelings is the end. It's so daring (like the Dauntless!) and something that's just not done (or rarely) in young adult fiction, but I'm not sure whether or not it actually works.
Allegiant has a lot to wrap up. I won't go into the details of the first two novels. You can link to my review of those above. Let's just say that in this novel, the world gets bigger. It's no longer just a place that was once called Chicago. The characters are thrust into that bigger world, so the effects of that are part of the story. But they are not completely cut off from the world they left behind, quite the opposite actually.
Identity is a big thing in this book. The factions have been terminated, but when you are raised to think along very narrow lines, that's not something you can simply shed. Tris and Tobias narrate and offer insight into this whole process of change as they come up against new injustices and have to decide whether or not to bring the revolution they began on the inside to the outside.
While I enjoyed the characters and was intrigued by the changes they were going through, this book is not particularly fast-paced. What I do like about it is that this slower pace offers the chance to really delve into some moral questions. Roth is a Christian (or, at the least, a believer in God), and though her books wouldn't be labeled as "Christian," I think her worldview really shows if you care to look. One of the big moral questions of the book is, are genetically deficient humans inferior to those with perfect genes? It's certainly not the first time such a question has been asked, but Roth puts a new spin on it. And she doesn't tackle fixing the problem with the usual simplistic, one-can-be-sacrificed-for-the-many, nihilistic, existential answers. She has characters who have those viewpoints, but she also offers something different, something more complex, maybe not as easy but better.
I was especially impressed by Roth's portrayal of broken relationships and the realistic repercussions of them. She offers a mature way of dealing with such brokenness. Both Tris and Tobias have a lot to forgive and a lot to be forgiven for. They aren't perfect heroes, and they have to live with the consequences of their choices, some of those consequences being more real than we readers might like. And in Tris and Tobias' relationship with each other, a romance that has seen the harsh light of reality, we get more of the author's perspective on what real love is and what a mature approach to love is. You don't see that often in young adult literature. Sure, there are the physical moments and romantic parts teen readers supposedly crave, but Tris and Tobias have whole conversations that are about more than their relationship and about more than their immediate trials. They think. It's refreshing.
It's clear the author wanted to present a thoughtful, meaningful story as much as she wanted an entertaining one. I appreciate that, so I wish I could give the book a higher star rating. But a few things hold me back. For one, sometimes I had a hard time remembering who was narrating. At times, Tris and Tobias sound a lot alike. Their characters and the way they deal with things are not alike, but their inner thoughts sometimes tend to be. Context did not always help me distinguish between them, and a couple times, I would think I was reading one's thoughts when it turned out to be the other's. Then, there was one morality question the author left kind of vague that I wish she hadn't. At no point does she say that Tris and Tobias have sex, and she often makes a point of saying they don't. But there is one time when she leaves it vague, seemingly leaving it to the readers to interpret what happened according to their preferences. I'm not sure of the author's beliefs on this point, but of course, I wish she had leaned toward complete abstinence, the reasons for which I have named in other blogs and won't go into detail about here. Much of the morality addressed in this book is actually quite complicated, and Roth deals with it well, but in this simpler thing, I was disappointed.
The last unfortunate thing about this book is the ending impression. I won't spoil it by concretely revealing what happens, but as I mentioned above, it's an unusual ending for young adult fiction and I'm not sure it works. Many dystopian novels end a bit sadly, if they are being honest to how life really works (or how a dystopian world would actually work). The Hunger Games series is one example of this. But the Divergent series ends on a different kind of sad note than we are used to. For the book, it works well enough and makes sense. The author does handle it in a careful manner. But it wasn't what I wanted and hoped for. It didn't satisfy me on the level I'm at when I read a book, that escapist level that honestly doesn't want the book to end just like the real world does.
Though I'm impressed by Veronica Roth's insight and depth, Allegiant just didn't resonate with me as much as her first book did. I can give it only three stars. But if you want to get in on the action, that first story is well worth it and is in process of becoming a movie, which I am very excited to see.
I was really impressed by Veronica Roth's story when I began this series with Divergent, reviewed here. Now that I have read Allegiant, the conclusion to the trilogy, I have mixed feelings. Divergent has not lost its luster. And there were aspects of this final novel that still impressed me. I'll get to those in a minute. But overall, Allegiant just wasn't as easy to read for various reasons. There's not as much movement and danger as in the first two books. There's a lot of sitting around thinking. The book is also narrated differently, by two main characters rather than just Tris. And the biggest cause of my mixed feelings is the end. It's so daring (like the Dauntless!) and something that's just not done (or rarely) in young adult fiction, but I'm not sure whether or not it actually works.
Allegiant has a lot to wrap up. I won't go into the details of the first two novels. You can link to my review of those above. Let's just say that in this novel, the world gets bigger. It's no longer just a place that was once called Chicago. The characters are thrust into that bigger world, so the effects of that are part of the story. But they are not completely cut off from the world they left behind, quite the opposite actually.
Identity is a big thing in this book. The factions have been terminated, but when you are raised to think along very narrow lines, that's not something you can simply shed. Tris and Tobias narrate and offer insight into this whole process of change as they come up against new injustices and have to decide whether or not to bring the revolution they began on the inside to the outside.
While I enjoyed the characters and was intrigued by the changes they were going through, this book is not particularly fast-paced. What I do like about it is that this slower pace offers the chance to really delve into some moral questions. Roth is a Christian (or, at the least, a believer in God), and though her books wouldn't be labeled as "Christian," I think her worldview really shows if you care to look. One of the big moral questions of the book is, are genetically deficient humans inferior to those with perfect genes? It's certainly not the first time such a question has been asked, but Roth puts a new spin on it. And she doesn't tackle fixing the problem with the usual simplistic, one-can-be-sacrificed-for-the-many, nihilistic, existential answers. She has characters who have those viewpoints, but she also offers something different, something more complex, maybe not as easy but better.
I was especially impressed by Roth's portrayal of broken relationships and the realistic repercussions of them. She offers a mature way of dealing with such brokenness. Both Tris and Tobias have a lot to forgive and a lot to be forgiven for. They aren't perfect heroes, and they have to live with the consequences of their choices, some of those consequences being more real than we readers might like. And in Tris and Tobias' relationship with each other, a romance that has seen the harsh light of reality, we get more of the author's perspective on what real love is and what a mature approach to love is. You don't see that often in young adult literature. Sure, there are the physical moments and romantic parts teen readers supposedly crave, but Tris and Tobias have whole conversations that are about more than their relationship and about more than their immediate trials. They think. It's refreshing.
It's clear the author wanted to present a thoughtful, meaningful story as much as she wanted an entertaining one. I appreciate that, so I wish I could give the book a higher star rating. But a few things hold me back. For one, sometimes I had a hard time remembering who was narrating. At times, Tris and Tobias sound a lot alike. Their characters and the way they deal with things are not alike, but their inner thoughts sometimes tend to be. Context did not always help me distinguish between them, and a couple times, I would think I was reading one's thoughts when it turned out to be the other's. Then, there was one morality question the author left kind of vague that I wish she hadn't. At no point does she say that Tris and Tobias have sex, and she often makes a point of saying they don't. But there is one time when she leaves it vague, seemingly leaving it to the readers to interpret what happened according to their preferences. I'm not sure of the author's beliefs on this point, but of course, I wish she had leaned toward complete abstinence, the reasons for which I have named in other blogs and won't go into detail about here. Much of the morality addressed in this book is actually quite complicated, and Roth deals with it well, but in this simpler thing, I was disappointed.
The last unfortunate thing about this book is the ending impression. I won't spoil it by concretely revealing what happens, but as I mentioned above, it's an unusual ending for young adult fiction and I'm not sure it works. Many dystopian novels end a bit sadly, if they are being honest to how life really works (or how a dystopian world would actually work). The Hunger Games series is one example of this. But the Divergent series ends on a different kind of sad note than we are used to. For the book, it works well enough and makes sense. The author does handle it in a careful manner. But it wasn't what I wanted and hoped for. It didn't satisfy me on the level I'm at when I read a book, that escapist level that honestly doesn't want the book to end just like the real world does.
Though I'm impressed by Veronica Roth's insight and depth, Allegiant just didn't resonate with me as much as her first book did. I can give it only three stars. But if you want to get in on the action, that first story is well worth it and is in process of becoming a movie, which I am very excited to see.
Labels:
Chicago,
Divergent series,
dystopias,
forgiveness,
love,
morality,
selflessness,
young adult books
Saturday, October 22, 2011
The Priest's Graveyard
Ted Dekker strikes good again! Actually, I'm a little late on reviewing this book, which came out in the spring. I read and reviewed his fall release first since I got an advance reader's copy in the summer. I like to receive Dekker for my birthday (he does write at least one book a year these days), so I waited on the spring release.
Lately, Dekker has been writing murder thrillers, geared toward a mainstream audience, and The Priest's Graveyard falls into that category. But no matter how crazy his books get, I always find gems about God and what it means to be a true believer within the pages of his crime stories. Really, that's why I keep reading. I absolutely love the way Dekker sees the world and God. He's not preachy, but oh, is there always a message! And a very good story. The message wouldn't be much without that first and foremost.
Dekker's surprises don't jump out at me as much as they did in his earlier books. I guess I know too well what to expect now! I could see some of the ending of The Priest's Graveyard a mile away, but what mattered was getting there, and it was worth it. In comparison to his other recent murder thrillers like Boneman's Daughters and The Bride Collector, The Priest's Graveyard is perhaps less dark but more soul-gripping. A book that makes you identify with the killer is a fascinating read, especially when it deals with issues we all struggle with, in this case, justice for evil. In those other two books, the villain is truly the villain, evil and psychotic, but the priest in this book is a man whose heart might match many a Christian's. He just takes justice into his own hands rather than leaving it to God or even to the law.
The priest is Danny, a survivor of the religious war in Bosnia, an immigrant to the United States. He meets a formerly abused woman, Renee, with justice and revenge on her mind, and the two form a bond over their mutual interests. I'll leave the plot at that for the benefit of those less familiar with Ted Dekker's twists and turns.
My husband often asks me when I finish a Ted Dekker novel how it compares to his others, particularly my favorites. Unfortunately, when I was first getting to know Dekker and he was first coming into his own, he had some really crazy story plots that I read with the proverbial rose-tinted glasses, so I don't know if anything he could ever write now would compare with those first impressions. But some are definitely better than others, in my opinion. The Priest's Graveyard is one to read, and when I rate Dekker novels between three and five stars and give this one a four, that's no average rating to scoff at.
Lately, Dekker has been writing murder thrillers, geared toward a mainstream audience, and The Priest's Graveyard falls into that category. But no matter how crazy his books get, I always find gems about God and what it means to be a true believer within the pages of his crime stories. Really, that's why I keep reading. I absolutely love the way Dekker sees the world and God. He's not preachy, but oh, is there always a message! And a very good story. The message wouldn't be much without that first and foremost.
Dekker's surprises don't jump out at me as much as they did in his earlier books. I guess I know too well what to expect now! I could see some of the ending of The Priest's Graveyard a mile away, but what mattered was getting there, and it was worth it. In comparison to his other recent murder thrillers like Boneman's Daughters and The Bride Collector, The Priest's Graveyard is perhaps less dark but more soul-gripping. A book that makes you identify with the killer is a fascinating read, especially when it deals with issues we all struggle with, in this case, justice for evil. In those other two books, the villain is truly the villain, evil and psychotic, but the priest in this book is a man whose heart might match many a Christian's. He just takes justice into his own hands rather than leaving it to God or even to the law.
The priest is Danny, a survivor of the religious war in Bosnia, an immigrant to the United States. He meets a formerly abused woman, Renee, with justice and revenge on her mind, and the two form a bond over their mutual interests. I'll leave the plot at that for the benefit of those less familiar with Ted Dekker's twists and turns.
My husband often asks me when I finish a Ted Dekker novel how it compares to his others, particularly my favorites. Unfortunately, when I was first getting to know Dekker and he was first coming into his own, he had some really crazy story plots that I read with the proverbial rose-tinted glasses, so I don't know if anything he could ever write now would compare with those first impressions. But some are definitely better than others, in my opinion. The Priest's Graveyard is one to read, and when I rate Dekker novels between three and five stars and give this one a four, that's no average rating to scoff at.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Crazy, Stupid, Love. in Theaters
In this movie-drought time of the year, if you've gone to the theater, chances are you've seen this one already. But it's not out of theaters yet, so if you haven't seen it, hopefully this will help you decide whether to take the plunge or wait for the good ones coming out soon.
Crazy, Stupid, Love. stars Steve Carell, Julianne Moore, Emma Stone, Ryan Gosling, and some pretty good child/teen actors. It's a bit of a mix of genres, but mainly Romantic Comedy rated mostly appropriately at PG-13. Having said that, though, I do have to mention that there are some wildly inappropriate parts. Ryan Gosling plays a hunky ladies' man (Jacob) who stalks the bar and takes home women just for sex. Although no sex is seen, the innuendo is all there. Also, the F-word is used.
But the story has a message, which in many ways balances out the negative aspects. Steve Carell plays Cal Weaver, a husband and father who's grown so used to life that he takes his wife for granted and doesn't love her with any sort of fire anymore. His wife, Emily (Julianne Moore), in turn, cheats on him and asks for a divorce, which he gives her like an old dog rolling over to die, passionless. But he misses her so badly he can't stop talking about her at the bar, which gets the attention of ladies' man Jacob. Here, the story gets really muddy morally. Cal, who's never had sex with any woman but his wife (which I wholeheartedly applaud), proceeds to follow Jacob's advice to his detriment. This whole part of the movie is mixed with a lot of humor, making it less unpleasant to watch, but it's still wrong. In time, however, Cal looks better, has learned how to get the spark back, and realizes he has only one soul mate.
But there's a whole lot more to the end that I don't want to spoil. Suffice it to say, it's laugh-out-loud funny with great, quotable lines. And the outcome is happily satisfactory. There's more than one romance (some of it inappropriate), but it all connects in the end. You are probably wondering what role Emma Stone gets to play, but I'll leave that as a surprise. It's hard to explain without explaining too much.
The messages I don't like about the movie are these: you need to experience more than one woman to be good at sex, sex is part of a premarital relationship but means more if you just don't do it the first night, masturbation is okay if the person you are thinking about gives you permission. Those are the big ones, and let me just emphasize again: I DON'T agree with the above.
Now, the messages I really appreciate about the movie: you can love just one person all your life; you can get back together after divorce; you can still love your spouse even when you think you hate him or her; marriage takes effort, but the effort is worth it.
So, you weigh the negative against the positive to decide whether or not this is a movie worth watching. I can't exactly recommend it, but at the same time, I can say that it didn't leave me feeling dirty, for all that it could have. Knowing what it contained, I might not have chosen to watch it, but having watched it, I can't say I regret it.
Three stars.
Crazy, Stupid, Love. stars Steve Carell, Julianne Moore, Emma Stone, Ryan Gosling, and some pretty good child/teen actors. It's a bit of a mix of genres, but mainly Romantic Comedy rated mostly appropriately at PG-13. Having said that, though, I do have to mention that there are some wildly inappropriate parts. Ryan Gosling plays a hunky ladies' man (Jacob) who stalks the bar and takes home women just for sex. Although no sex is seen, the innuendo is all there. Also, the F-word is used.
But the story has a message, which in many ways balances out the negative aspects. Steve Carell plays Cal Weaver, a husband and father who's grown so used to life that he takes his wife for granted and doesn't love her with any sort of fire anymore. His wife, Emily (Julianne Moore), in turn, cheats on him and asks for a divorce, which he gives her like an old dog rolling over to die, passionless. But he misses her so badly he can't stop talking about her at the bar, which gets the attention of ladies' man Jacob. Here, the story gets really muddy morally. Cal, who's never had sex with any woman but his wife (which I wholeheartedly applaud), proceeds to follow Jacob's advice to his detriment. This whole part of the movie is mixed with a lot of humor, making it less unpleasant to watch, but it's still wrong. In time, however, Cal looks better, has learned how to get the spark back, and realizes he has only one soul mate.
But there's a whole lot more to the end that I don't want to spoil. Suffice it to say, it's laugh-out-loud funny with great, quotable lines. And the outcome is happily satisfactory. There's more than one romance (some of it inappropriate), but it all connects in the end. You are probably wondering what role Emma Stone gets to play, but I'll leave that as a surprise. It's hard to explain without explaining too much.
The messages I don't like about the movie are these: you need to experience more than one woman to be good at sex, sex is part of a premarital relationship but means more if you just don't do it the first night, masturbation is okay if the person you are thinking about gives you permission. Those are the big ones, and let me just emphasize again: I DON'T agree with the above.
Now, the messages I really appreciate about the movie: you can love just one person all your life; you can get back together after divorce; you can still love your spouse even when you think you hate him or her; marriage takes effort, but the effort is worth it.
So, you weigh the negative against the positive to decide whether or not this is a movie worth watching. I can't exactly recommend it, but at the same time, I can say that it didn't leave me feeling dirty, for all that it could have. Knowing what it contained, I might not have chosen to watch it, but having watched it, I can't say I regret it.
Three stars.
Labels:
divorce,
love,
marriage,
movies,
romantic comedy,
soul mates
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The Night Circus
A circus is supposed to be magical and is often a little bit scary (clowns, hello!). The Night Circus is unlike any other circus in the world, but magical it is, and if its performers knew the true nature of their stage, they would be scared, and with good reason. But as you read The Night Circus, a novel by Erin Morgenstern (adult fiction, for once!), it is nothing but pure magic, in both the literal and figurative senses. Sometimes you enter the circus as an outsider, enjoying the scents and miracles within, but most often, you get front row seats to the inner happenings, a backstage pass.
In The Night Circus, two old magicians with real magic each select a student to compete against the other in a challenge. It's not immediately clear what the rules are or how the winner will be determined. Hector chooses his daughter Celia, and Alexander chooses a random orphan named Marco. They train them in very different ways from childhood through their teens and then place them on their "stage," a unique circus especially designed for the challenge and with higher stakes than any challenge before as this one is public and involves a great number of outsiders.
The circus is a huge success from the beginning. Everything about it is designed to be intimate and spectacular. Only performers with unique shows and talents can participate, and the circus is open to audiences only from sundown to dawn, appearing out of nowhere, leaving without a trace. But the circus is truly magical because of the influences of Celia and Marco, each leaving their mark, creating more and more illusions as the years progress, neither quite understanding how to compete against the other, each beginning to love the other's work...and eventually each other. Gentle souls that they are, they keep the circus in balance, protecting it and the other performers.
But they are bound by magic, and in the end, there can be only one winner.
Magical, magical, magical to the very last page! How could you not love this book? It fascinates you with the best parts of the circus and draws you in with its mystery. In certain ways, it is very like a mystery as you discover more and more of the secrets of the circus and learn, together with the competing magicians, just what their challenge involves. The circus is also a complete mystery to its audience, which the reader is sometimes made to feel a part of even though we often have the inside scoop, and we can identify with audience characters, especially those who become attached to the circus in a deeper way than the average paying customer. It's a cleverly written book, making the reader feel as though opening its pages is entering through the gates of the circus itself. A normal circus is intriguing enough but often somewhat in-your-face and scary. Thankfully, there are no clowns in this book, and even the circus tents are set up intimately so that no performer is haggling anyone or persuading anyone to visit his tent. Visitors get to visit the tents they want at their own pace. The circus is inviting, enticing, and as a reader, you completely feel its pull and warmth.
The only other book I can think of to compare The Night Circus to is The Prestige
(also a movie
), though I couldn't say for sure, only ever having seen the movie and not having read the book. In The Prestige, however, the explanations are all scientific (though in the realm of science fiction). In The Night Circus, everything is real magic. For all of you who are more into movies than books, there is another similarity between the two. Summit Entertainment has purchased the film rights to this book, and I wouldn't be surprised to find the movie out within a couple years.
My short word of caution on this book involves, unsurprisingly, magic itself. In a book like this, no form of magic bothers me. Tarot card reading is mixed in with the ability to disappear or heal oneself. Obviously, in the real world, people can't disappear, but they do read tarot cards, and I would normally discourage a person from being involved with something like that. In this book, it's all on the same level, impossible magic next to real-world "magic," lending the real-world magic an air of fantasy, putting it all in the realm of fiction. In such a case, I don't have a problem with tarot cards, because they aren't meant to be believed any more than any other magic in the story. But if a conscience-abiding reader cannot, or does not want to, separate real-world magic from fiction like that, I would advise against reading this story. That's my only disclaimer.
I can't imagine the movie capturing even half the book, but I do look forward to visiting the circus again in that way one day. Probably by then, I will have forgotten enough of the book to be captured all over again by the magic. I can only hope!
Look for The Night Circus in hardcover in September of this year.
In The Night Circus, two old magicians with real magic each select a student to compete against the other in a challenge. It's not immediately clear what the rules are or how the winner will be determined. Hector chooses his daughter Celia, and Alexander chooses a random orphan named Marco. They train them in very different ways from childhood through their teens and then place them on their "stage," a unique circus especially designed for the challenge and with higher stakes than any challenge before as this one is public and involves a great number of outsiders.
The circus is a huge success from the beginning. Everything about it is designed to be intimate and spectacular. Only performers with unique shows and talents can participate, and the circus is open to audiences only from sundown to dawn, appearing out of nowhere, leaving without a trace. But the circus is truly magical because of the influences of Celia and Marco, each leaving their mark, creating more and more illusions as the years progress, neither quite understanding how to compete against the other, each beginning to love the other's work...and eventually each other. Gentle souls that they are, they keep the circus in balance, protecting it and the other performers.
But they are bound by magic, and in the end, there can be only one winner.
Magical, magical, magical to the very last page! How could you not love this book? It fascinates you with the best parts of the circus and draws you in with its mystery. In certain ways, it is very like a mystery as you discover more and more of the secrets of the circus and learn, together with the competing magicians, just what their challenge involves. The circus is also a complete mystery to its audience, which the reader is sometimes made to feel a part of even though we often have the inside scoop, and we can identify with audience characters, especially those who become attached to the circus in a deeper way than the average paying customer. It's a cleverly written book, making the reader feel as though opening its pages is entering through the gates of the circus itself. A normal circus is intriguing enough but often somewhat in-your-face and scary. Thankfully, there are no clowns in this book, and even the circus tents are set up intimately so that no performer is haggling anyone or persuading anyone to visit his tent. Visitors get to visit the tents they want at their own pace. The circus is inviting, enticing, and as a reader, you completely feel its pull and warmth.
The only other book I can think of to compare The Night Circus to is The Prestige
My short word of caution on this book involves, unsurprisingly, magic itself. In a book like this, no form of magic bothers me. Tarot card reading is mixed in with the ability to disappear or heal oneself. Obviously, in the real world, people can't disappear, but they do read tarot cards, and I would normally discourage a person from being involved with something like that. In this book, it's all on the same level, impossible magic next to real-world "magic," lending the real-world magic an air of fantasy, putting it all in the realm of fiction. In such a case, I don't have a problem with tarot cards, because they aren't meant to be believed any more than any other magic in the story. But if a conscience-abiding reader cannot, or does not want to, separate real-world magic from fiction like that, I would advise against reading this story. That's my only disclaimer.
I can't imagine the movie capturing even half the book, but I do look forward to visiting the circus again in that way one day. Probably by then, I will have forgotten enough of the book to be captured all over again by the magic. I can only hope!
Look for The Night Circus in hardcover in September of this year.
Labels:
adult fiction,
books,
circus,
love,
magic,
movies into books,
mystery
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