This version of "Pride and Prejudice" has (almost) it all--snarky Brits, a sweet Bingley and Jane, a wonderfully bitchy Miss Bingley, a wonderfully wonderful Mr. Collins, a cool soundtrack, and nice shoes. What it doesn't have is a likeable Elizabeth, decent direction, or any kind of believable development for Darcy.
Pride & Prejudice: A Latter-Day Comedy (original title).
Starring Kam Heskin and Orlando Seale
RECAP Pt. 1:
(NB: I hold the director, Andrew Black, responsible for this mess.)
Fade in to an out-of-focus slow-motion shot of a birthday cake. Elizabeth voice-overs, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a girl of a certain age and in a certain situation in life must be in want of a husband.” Thank you, Andrew Black, for removing the wry humor and wisdom of this famous opening sentence, and rendering it trite. Sexist and trite. Ten seconds into this movie, I’m peeved, and there’s nothing on the screen yet. We’re in for a rough night, folks. The music is great, however.
Anyway, Elizabeth V.O.s that her mom pulls "Big Fat Greek Wedding"s on her. (“You look so old! You ought to get married!”) The candles on the cake come into focus. Two of the “candles” are lit matches pushed in the icing (unsanitary). Elizabeth explains that candles come in “packs of twenty-four.” So she’s turning twenty-six, making her six years older than the Austen original. I wonder why they changed it. It does emacipate Elizabeth from her parents, but if she were twenty, it would be easier to explain why she’s still in college.
The Out-of-Focus Camera (OoFCam) focuses on the girl carrying the cake, a pretty dark-haired young lady. Elizabeth V.O.s that she’s this version’s version of Jane, Elizabeth’s “Argentinean roommate.” I’m going to call her Juanita. Come to think of it, why didn’t Andrew Black call her Juanita? Huh? The OoFCam focuses on “Lydia, [their] landlord (sic),” who’s singing “Happy Birthday” with a completely disdainful look on her face. Lydia’s parents own the house, Elizabeth explains. Since Lydia is played by somebody named Kelly Stables, I’m going to call her Kellydia. She’s holding a dog a la Paris Hilton, and arrgh! If the dog’s name must be an inside joke, why call the dog “Austen”? Why not “Pug”? Has Andrew Black ever read Mansfield Park? I bet not. Plebe.
The OoFCam veers away to Kellydia’s little sister, played by somebody named Nicole Hamilton, so I’m going to call her Nickitty. Just be glad I didn’t nickname them Paris and Nicole, as I easily could have. “And then there’s Mary,” Kam finishes. Mary is played by Rainy Kerwin, but I’m going to call her Rainy Day Mary because she is the worst cast Mary imaginable. Kam’s description of Mary (“If you could extract the awkwardness out of a thousand first dates, you’d have her personality around boys”) doesn’t remotely pertain to Rainy Day Mary, who is hamming shamelessly for the OoFCam, pretending she’s unable to get her party favor to make annoying noises. It doesn’t help a bit that Rainy Kerwin is extremely attractive and talented. I have a theory on this I’ll share later.
The OoFCam finally cuts to show Kam Haskel. “That’s me--Elizabeth.” WE. KNOW. What is this, the fifteenth character? I’ll just call you Kam, if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to mix the various P&P’s up, do I? Kam blows out twenty-six candles as she babbles about wanting to be a published author. What. Ever.
The title appears (spelled with an ampersand--Pride & Prejudice). Andrew Black, why didn’t you change the title? Why didn’t you change the names? Since you wouldn’t, I had to change them all myself, and it’s not easy. You got paid to write this crap. It’s your job. I’m doing this for free. YOU SHOULD HAVE CHANGED THE NAMES. It makes no sense for Kam not to realize that her life is an eerie parallel to the classic British novel Pride and Prejudice, if she is such a star English student. AND A FUCKING NOVELIST. Geez!
Time-wasting time-laspe photography shows the sun rising. Kam wakes up. The OoFCam tries its best to become the PukeCam by tilting the scene 90°. Thanks for the vertigo, Andrew. Kam rolls her eyes, yawns into the camera, and shuffles past Juanita’s innate form. What the subtitles describe as “[upbeat pop music]” plays. Ben Carson, the composer, did a wonderful job with this film. The soundtrack is supposed to be full of trite and over-played pop music, but, as Camera 40 can’t afford to license real trite and over-played pop music, Ben Carson had to compose a selection of faux pop music, if you will, that sounded trite and over-played enough to subliminally pass for the real thing, but in such as way as to avoid a lawsuit for breach of copyright. This particular song is faux soft-alternative-femme-rock. Er. If you follow me.
Boring getting-ready-in-the-morning montage. As Kam leaves the house, she checks the mail, and the street address on the mailbox reads “318 Longbourn Ave.” The “inside jokes” got old when we met Austen the Pug. New game: every time someone makes an Austen reference or inside joke, scream. Kam finds a letter addressed to her, and looks befuddled.
Time-wasting sped-up footage of Kam puttering to school in her vintage VW. She parks between two New Beetles (hee!). Kam walks around her Provo campus. She plays tennis (badly). In English class, her professor lectures on Jane Austen–AAAIIEEE!!–and if only Kam were paying attention, and not doodling in her notebook, she would save herself a whole lot of trouble. The chalk board reads in part, “rational creature vs. elegant lady” (what Elizabeth says when she turns Mr Collins down), and “JANE AUSTEN–b. [illegible] 1775,” but most of it is impossible to read because it’s–surprise!–out of focus. This glimpse of Kam’s education confuses me. Is she supposed to be getting a graduate degree in English while she writes her novel? Okay--then why is she attending such an easy class on Austen? Is she one of those students who takes about three classes a semester, and is still earning her bachelor’s? I don’t know. Maybe she started late.
More time-wasting sped-up footage, and Kam arrives at work--a bookstore called “Gardiner’s Books” (AAAAAGH!)--late. The OoFCam strikes again as she sheepishly waves at her boss (a Mr. Gardiner). That would warrant a scream, but no one ever says his name, so save your voice. You’ll need it later.
Kam arranges a display of a book called The Pink Bible. Discretely looking around for her angry supervisor, she flips through a copy. “The clever huntress always looks her best,” she reads. “You never know when big game might cross your path.” Kam rolls her eyes, thus guaranteeing she will immediately run into her “big game ...”
... and low and behold, there is a potential in the store! Kam does not look bad, by the way. She’s wearing glasses--which she wasn’t wearing at school, so maybe it’s an affectation--her curly, blonde hair is pulled back, and she’s wearing a fitted blue floral-patterned blouse. The guy she’s set her sights on looks pretty good, too. This is Orlando Seale as Will Darcy, and I won’t pretend not to know. He’s a good choice for Darcy, I think; he is genuinely English, genuinely cute, has the requisite curly dark hair, and can scowl with the best of them when called upon to do so. He’s squeeable.
Kam struts up and asks if she can service him. He looks her up and down, and says, “I doubt it,” and Kam immediately recognizes his accent from this tiny snippet of dialogue. She has special British-detection powers. Or maybe she saw his shoes, and was like, “He’s either English or gay. I hope he’s English.”
Kam begins to babble that “[her] ancestors are from Hertfordshire–” AAAAH!–but Will is as pained as I am and interrupts her, and asks where they keep the Kierkegaard. He helpfully supplies the spelling. Kam interrupts, “Right, the father of existentialism.” Oh, so smart of her. Not. If she were smart, she’d use his full name, Soren Kierkegaard. And if he were smart, he’d tell her which particular Kierkegaard book he wants. She snaps that Will’s in the gardening section. He pulls Mark Twain and Dr. Phil off the shelf. She finally earns her salary by taking the misshelved books and pointing out the philosophy section.
Kam kuriously peaks round a bookshelf as Will pays for his purchase (either he found Kierkegaard or bought Dr Phil). “If your clerk spent a little more time re-shelving and a little less time patronizing customers, you might sell more books,” Will tells the silent Mr Gardiner. He takes his book without the ecosystem-choking plastic bag--Darcy is too kool for plastic!--and disappears into the unfocused hinterlands. Kam skowls and pronounces judgment: “Jerk.”
Kam putters home in the VW. Inside, Rainy Day Mary is playing the piano and singing, “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,” while Kellydia yells at her. I wish I was making that up. The first JA quote appears: “[Kellydia] and [Nickitty] were ignorant, idle, and vain.” Harsh, man, harsh.
Kellydia, in kurlers and a facial mask, is poking herself in the eye with a knitting needle, and reading The Pink Bible. No, I’m not making that up. The Pink Bible distracts her from the eye-poking, so she demands Nickitty read it. Like they don’t already have it memorized. Kellydia expositions that Nickitty is in the drill team, then threatens to put hair remover in her shampoo. Juanita, wondering into the bathroom, says, “I wish I had a sister.” Hee hee.
Underneath this scene is another faux pop song. Nickitty reads a description of “The Grip that Guarantees He’ll Ask You Out,” and it’s as complicated as pre-med. “Daily scripture study?” Kam kracks. Kellydia and Nickitty make disdainful noises. Rainy Day Mary appears to suck the air out of the scene, so let’s just ignore her. Apparently the sisters are getting ready for a party hosted by Charles Bingley, who they know from church, and who is “almost as rich as [Kellydia and Nickitty’s] dad.” Aaaaand scene.
Juanita goes through the klothes in her kloset, and all of which are red. One is inside out, too. Kam koldly shows her the letter from a publisher. “You havven open it? Well, A’ll open it,” Juanita exklaims in what seems to be phonetically-memorized English. Kam accuses Juanita of sending her book to a publisher without Kam knowing. It seems Kam disapproves of the publisher because they publish historical romance novels. “You know, ripped bodices, heaving bosoms. That’s not my novel.” Juanita protests that eet is. A rrrromance! “She’s a mechanical engineer,” Kam exklaims. Heh. Kam, don’t you believe mechanical engineers can find true love? Juanita opens the envelop, and reads the letter, which can be summed up as follows: “Unfortunately ...”
Kam klaims she wouldn’t let the publisher set their grimy little hands on her novel even if they’d accepted it. Kam! You’re a first-time novelist! It’s not like they publish porn. “I love you like a sister,” –aaieeee!–Kam says, and adds, “Don’t do this anymore.” Juanita ignores Kam’s wishes, and proklaims her not-romance is “de worl’s only Napoleonic-taicno fantasy.” Juanita refuses to let Kam slip into ice-kream-fueled depression, and enkourages her to go to the party. Kam komplains that the last party they went to ended in “bovine foetuses.” Juanita tempts her by saying that “Jack Wickham migh’ be there.” A strange name change. George isn’t such an unheard-of name; our current President’s first name is George. Whatever.
American Idol-contestant and LDS celebrity Carmen Rasmussen entertains Bingley’s party guests. Another JA quote: “Charles Bingley, a single man of great fortune. What a fine thing for our girls!” Cut to said fine thing talking to his sister. “So, Ah’m talkin' to Mom,” he says, munching an olive, “and she says, ‘Charles, I’m writin’ an article on the jyuuishfeminiss moovment in the new millenium?’ And sho I thought, well, maybe you should call it She-brew. She gave me the weirdesh look.” ENUNCIATE!
The girls arrive; Juanita and Kam look very pretty in red and blue, respectively. Kam kwotes F. Scott Fitzgerald, no doubt because she is ignorant of all things Austen. Shut up, Kam. She expositorially asks Juanita to help her hide from Collins.
Up on the balcony with Charlie, his sister Caroline complains that Will is always avoiding her. She’s holding her drink with her pinky sticking out, so she must be a snob. Charlie supportively suggests she look inside the house, and then sees Juanita. She sees him. Flamenco guitar strums. It’s true love!
Charlie skips down to the lawn, and introduces himself. Juanita limply shakes his hand. Hee. Kam has to supply Juanita’s name. “[Juanita], God is gracious,” Charlie says. “I mean, your name [Juanita]. It’s Hebrew. It means ‘God is gracious.’” Yes, Charles. Your name comes from the German word for “man,” and is related to the word “churl,” meaning a rustic peasant. Your sister Caroline’s name is a feminine form of Charles. Let’s move on, shall we?
Charlie and Juanita dance. Kam is ambushed by Collins, played by the inimitable Hubbel Palmer. I cannot explain how great this guy is. He’s like the Mormon Drew Carey. “Hey there, [Hubbel],” Kam says with a fake smile. “I’ve been looking out for you too.” Oh, and by the way, there are two versions of this movie: the theatrical release, which has far more mentions of Mormonism, and the DVD bowdlerized version. I'm recappig both, simultaneously.
Kam tries to hide by the punchbowl, but Hubbel pursues her, showing her “an article on the glories of womanhood in a 1978 magazine.” I don’t know, some of this dialogue is so odd. But odd in a good way. “‘Provoke not your children,’” he reads. “As true today as when it was written.” Juanita and Charles are still dancing to their mental Flamenco music. “A virtuous woman never hides her bushels,” Hubbel misreads. Hee hee! He tries to correct his mistake as Kam sees Rainy Day Mary.
Juanita and Charlie. Still dancing.
In the LDS version, Kam, Rainy Day Mary, and Hubbel sit in a row. Hubbel mentions his mission president, President de Bourgh. Aaiieeee! Exposition that Kam kuts Hubbel’s hair, and Rainy Day Mary has a krush on him. That scene is completely cut out of the Bowdlerized version. Story about a sleeping inside a buffalo. I won’t bother you with the details because Rainy Day Mary is haaaaaaaaaaaate. Jack Wickham appears from the unfocused hinterlands and pounces on Elizabeth. He has marbles in his mouth. In fact, he looks like Leo the Deputy who Veronica Mars went out with, like, three times.
Kellydia spots Juanita and Charles dancing through her telescope. “Poacher,” she breathes. I like the husband-hunting theme.
Hubbel dislikes Jack. Jack dislikes him back. Jack is there because Juanita told him about Kam’s rejection letter. Jack and Kam go to play some pool. “Touches me again, I’m gonna punch his esophagus,” Hubbel mumbles. Rainy Day Mary edges closer to him, and Hubbel clears his throat and walks off. I suddenly care about Mary’s feelings being hurt--that’s how good Hubbel is.
Kam and Jack play pool in a pool-table located conveniently in a black hole. Or somewhere; the background is completely black. Jack says, “You sink that nine ball, and I’ll take you to Vegas right now and marry you.” She says she’s solids. He changes it to the six ball. “You’re on,” Kam smirks, and misses the pocket. Jack protests, “I am a young, good-looking--I am very good looking--relatively disease-free individual.” Well, when you put it like that, who could turn you down? He charmingly asks why she won’t marry him. “I don’t love you, Jack,” Kam says kalmly, making Jack miss the kue ball. Kam’s a cheater. Jack applies some laid-back peer pressure, still marbley-mouthed, but Kam’s not having it. “I have things I want to do with my life,” Kam says smugly, and misses the korner pocket. D’oh! Jack admits he’s studied the Pink Bible more than the real Bible, and let me ask: does that make him kinda gay? He sinks the eight ball, and loses. He proposes they wager on the next game. “I don’t have any money,” Kam laughs. “You rack ‘em up. I’m gonna go find the little girls room,” she says with a saucy head shake. Jack kwietly watches her go.
As I have harsh words saved up for this movie, let me praise this scene before I get all bilious and bitter. It really worked. Kam and Jack were flirtatious, funny, and a little poignant. Now, if only we could do something about Kam’s unreliable line-readings.
Outside, Carmen is still Rasmussening. Kellydia stands over the power cables, smirking. She takes a pair of wire-cutters out of her purse and orders Nickitty to cut the cords. Nickitty is electrocuted. Boy, do I wish I were making that up.
Charles apologizes to Juanita and runs off to trip the breaker. In the garage, he finds someone is sitting in a car. “Hey, Darcy, whaddya doin’?” Charles asks. “Sometimes being alone is my only chance for decent company,” Will non-explains, and adds, “Besides, being preyed upon by a garden full of social-climbing sycophants is hardly my idea of a good time.” “You’re in the carrrr, Darrrcy, whaddya dooin’ in the carrrrr?” Charles says as he pretends to examine the non-existent fusebox supposedly just out of sight. Charles and Juanita were made for each other. No one will understand them when they pledge their vows, though. Will explains he’s reading the script. No, strike that, he’s just reading. Given what we learn later about his job, it’s probably a manuscript of an unpublished novel. It would be especially karmic if it were Kam’s novel, but, nope. Will brags about his car, prompting Charlie to say, “Look, there. Is. A garrrden fulla--beyeewtiful girls out there--an’ you’re more int’rested in this carrr--” “Most of those girls are unable to form complete sentences,” Will says, and of course a couple of girls walk by, spewing teen-talk. Will smirks and returns to his manuscript.
JA kwote: “Mary worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, and was always impatient for display.” Painful scene follows that I will not be recapping, because it is all about Rainy Day Mary embarrassing herself in front of the party crowd by singing, “My Bonnie.” I wish very much I were making this up.
Caroline finds Will in the garage, and he nervously stuffs the manuscript in the side pocket of the door while offering to help Charles with his “electrical problem.” “Oh, I’ll come with you,” Caroline gushes. Will makes a “d’oh!” face. No, no, no! Will isn’t supposed to display his sensitive side until after he proposes to Kam! You just shot Darcy’s character development in the foot! Oh, well, whatever.
Kam emerges from the “little girl’s room,” and hears Rainy Day Mary singing.
The trio of snobs appear on the upper deck. “What is that?” Caroline snits, seeing Rainy Day Mary. I’m asking the same kwestion, Caroline. Let’s be best friends forever! She sends Charles off to resuscitate the band, STAT. Will tries to follow, and Caroline stops him by smacking her hand against his chest. He blinks at her. She giggles and smooths his shirt. That was funny in a way I don’t think come across on the page.
Faux tribal music plays as Kellydia studies the Pink Bible, waiting to ambush Charlie. There’s a fire burning behind her, and it’s all very cavegirl. Kellydia deliberately bumps into Charles and squeezes the special spot on his elbow. He politely offers her some ice. Scene.
Kam finds Juanita in the krowd horrified by Mary’s singing. Juanita lies that she’s been looking for her everywhere. Will and Caroline say some mean (but accurate) things about Rainy Day Mary, and Kam glares at them. Somebody teases Hubbel, dispassionately watching Mary humiliate herself, and he silently walks away. Mary’s voice dies out. Suddenly I care about her. Damn, Hubbel, you’re good! You make me care about plots and characters I hate!
So then Elizabeth somehow “rescues” Rainy Day Mary by joining her for another verse of Bonnie. Gaaah. Will smirks and looks turned on, while Caroline’s expression mirrors my emotions. Fast-forward, fast-foward, fast-forward. Carmen Rassmussen, you suck! Fast-forward.
Marble-mouthed Jack finally goes looking for Kam, and while he, she, and the other girls are just standing there, doing nothing--because the blocking in this movie sucks-Will wanders up, looking for nookie. Luckily for him Jack is there, right? C’mon. The man reads the Pink Bible. Jack makes embarrassed noises while Will regards him with absolutely no expression on his face, and no, that does not count as a non-expression, but anyway it’s obvious that they know each other. “Darcy,” Jack goofs, “I didn’t expect to see you here.” “No, I’m sure you didn’t,” Will ices. “Leave. Now.” Nasty breakup? Jack shrugs his shoulders, all, I didn’t want to go to your retarded kindergarten so-called “party” anyway, and you can’t kick me out because I was going anyway, so there, you ... stuffy ... British person! Will watches him with the patented Darcy Stare of Unresolved Sexual Tension. Elizabeth brushes by him, no doubt trying to get her own Stare. Will looks bored. Or possibly sad. Damn expressionless Brits. They make recapping a chore.
Kam chases down Marble-Mouth and learns that Jack and Will had a “disagreement” over a girl. Jack wanted an open relationship, but Will expected complete monogamy. Jack didn’t think that sex with chicks counted, anyway, and Will’s head practically imploded. He was shocked that Jack was having heterosexual sex, and began to doubt the strength of his orientation. Jack says those are just stereotypes, and anyways it shouldn’t matter because it was just sex, nothing intimate or emotional. Then Will’s head imploded again, and he demanded to know what they had been doing if it wasn’t intimate or emotional.
Yes, I’m writing my own movie now. Brokeback Prejudice.
The next day, Kam and Juanita are jogging. Juanita piles the praise on Charlie: “He has thir-teen cheeelderen! Sponsored in Malaysia.” Her verdict? “He’s the kin’es’, swee-tes’, mosts speeeritual man I ehver met.” “Too bad he’s friends with a total jerk,” Kam replies, and plothole! Because how did Kam know that Charlie and Will are friends? Unless she assumed that they were because Will threw Jack out of Charlie's house. “I thought you two hada momen’ laz night,” Juanita teases. No, Will and Jack had a moment, and Kam tried to horn her way in. Heh heh. “Horn.” The girls discuss Will’s behavior at the party last night. Here the versions diverge: in the LDS version, Juanita says, “Charlez says that he baptized Darrrcy on hees meeession.” In the Bowdlerized version, “Charles sez che met Darrrcy on a beeeziness treep.” Juanita explains that he moved to Caleeforneea “affer he finish school.” The “he” in that sentence could be either Charles or Will. Just so’s you know. Juanita says that Charlie says that Will is nice. “Even the worst people can be nice to their friends, Jane,” Kam points out astutely. Incidentally, Juanita looks fabulous in a trim red jogging suit. Will she ever wear anything not red? Kam is wearing a baggy t-shirt, and has ridiculously large sweat marks in her armpits. Juanita komplains that Kellydia got Charlie's attention by choking, “so Charlez had to do them ... Cómo se dice? ... Helmich maneuver.” “Little tramp,” Kam growls--whoa, more talk like that and you’ll lose the PG rating!--while stretching. The UrfCam turns upside down, and it’s not Kam’s most flattering angle. She sees Kellydia and Nickitty hanging out with Caroline in the tennis courts. Nickitty waves at them, despite Kellydia’s attempt to shut her up. Juanita begs to walk over and say hi to Charlie, though Kam protests, because Will is also over there, spinning his racket and looking British. Kam eventually agrees, saying, “You owe me.” Couldn’t they split up?
Caroline tries to take over my job by recapping the party scene. Caroline and Will are twinning, both wearing pure white tennis outfit. Rather clingy, too. Nice ass, Will! Nickitty gets hit in the head with a ball. Wah. Wah. Waah. Under Kellydia’s prodding, Caroline expositions that Charlie made his fortune marketing intelligence-enhancing classical music for dogs. “Does it work?” Nickitty asks. Caroline snootily greets Kam and Juanita, getting a blank and rather rude “Have we met?” from Kam. Juanita hastily makes introductions, and asks Nickitty what’s wrong with her face. “Nothing,” I say, then finally notice the tiny mark on Nickitty’s forehead. Kellydia kindly gives Nickitty her Coke, then snaps, “No, [Nic]Kitty, hold it against your face,” when Nickitty tries to drink it. I disproportionately love everything that comes out of Caroline and Kellydia’s mouth. I have a weakness for bitchy characters, I think.
Charlie runs up and marble-mouths to Juanita. While they act cute together, Will watches Kam with dark sexuality. Mmmmmm. Except he sometimes appears to be staring at Charlie. Probably just an eye-line error. Charles returns to do the match-point, and Caroline expositions, “I don’t believe poor Charles has ever beaten Darcy.”
This great xylophone music plays as Charlie does bizarro yoga. I think it’s xylophone. It could be marimba or something. Anyway, this music plays on the main menu of the DVD, and I think it was a great choice. The guy who plays Charlie has a really cute Ashton Kutcher vibe going on, except they forced him to wear ridiculous clothes and gelled his hair into a Tintin ’do. Nickitty lets loose an ill-timed cough (which is an Austen in-joke, but it never occurred to me until just now to think of it like that, so no scream) which makes Will miss his serve. He gives the girls a look like he’d like to shove the handle of his racket into interesting parts of Nickitty’s anatomy, and serves again. They hit the ball back and forth, until Will lets loose a very cute backhand and hits the net. The boys good-naturedly shake hands over the net, and Juanita, at least, claps for Charlie.
Caroline saunters over to Will so they can do the old “I’ve been meditating on the very great pleasure a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow” bit. She guesses that he’s thinking that he would’ve won if the girls hadn’t transformed the court into the “church social.” The non-Bowdlerized version has “ward social” here. Will corrects her that he’s thinking about a girl. Hey, I have the same water bottle as Will! Okay, it’s 32 oz, not 16. And it’s in different colors. Nevertheless, I’m filing this into my collection of evidence that Darcy and I are soulmates. Caroline, complimented, asks who this lucky, lucky woman might be. Oh, lay the smackdown, Will! “Jane’s friend,” Will replies. Eh. That wasn’t as smackdowny as I wished it might be.
Meanwhile, Charlie is mumbling something about his chi. Isn’t he supposed to be Mormon? He says he and his racket became “a single identity,” and Will corrects him, “Entity.” Given what we later learn about Will’s job, this is wonderfully in character. Charlie formally introduces Will and Kam, and hints that Kam wants to take tennis lessons from Will. Kam turns him down as Will accepts, kalling Kam a “woman of many talents.” Kam looks disturbed and complimented. Charlie really wants Kam and Will to play tennis. I don’t really understand why. He just met the girls yesterday night, and if Will has been telling his friends how much he likes this girl he shared eye-contact with a couple of times last night, he’s a bigger fool that I thought. Whatever. Just know that Charlie just became a huge Will/Kam shipper. Kam politely says no again. “You kin use mah racket,” Charlie offers. Ha. Subtext. Kam is firm but polite, and leaves to finish her run. Will watches her go with dark British sexuality. Mmmmm. Call me!
This part covers the first thirty minutes of the movie, which, in total, is 140 minutes long.
ETA: D'oh! It's one hour and forty minutes long, or 100 minutes. Normal runtime for a comedy.
Yes, I have seen it -- one night I was incredibly bored and the only thing I had with me was that... it's a well written script, I'll give it that, but some of the acting made me gnash my teeth! The Lizzy was excellent though, as well as the Charlotte. The Darcy was incredibly stiff, but when he smiles at the end... well, Darcy will always get you in the end. ;)
Are you wanting to recap all Austen adaptations or just all P&P ones? I guess either way it's still a lot! I've seen most of the P&P ones and all the new other ones, but there's some old BBC versions I can't bring myself to go through, like Northanger Abbey -- g*d, they need a new one of that! Peter Firth should not be anywhere near that movie! :P Esp. not as my charming Henry Tilney... I like Laurence Olivier as Darcy though, even if the script wildly deviates from the novel...
The Darcy was incredibly stiff...
We call him the Undead Robotic Jaw.
Are you wanting to recap all Austen adaptations or just all P&P ones?
All the Austen, but I'm starting with P&P. So once I'm finished with P&P LDS, there's the Lawrence Olivier one (I have it on VHS), and the bad mini-series. That's about it. Then I think I'd do "Sense and Sensibility," directed by Ang Brokeback Lee. Hmm, Northanger Abbey? Which version are you talking about? I must admit I never really liked the book too much.
I really like the book Northanger Abbey, but the miniseries I saw... I couldn't even get through it! It was made in the 80s and had terrible terrible synth music in the background. God awful! Peter Firth was a wretched looking Henry Tilney (he's now in Spooks), who doesn't deserve that kind of treatment. Nothing about it stood out as being particularly worth watching.
Ahh, Peter Firth. He plays The Boss on MI-5 (which is what "Spooks" is marketed as in the US, because "spook" can be slang for black--coincidentally the same reason Steven King changed the title of "The Shine" to "The Shining"). I've seen a couple of episodes, and I think I'll actually recap the one where what's-her-name's face ends up in the deep-fat fryer.
I've seen an awful I think BBC version of Persuasion that looked like someone had got together the cast of the local Elizabethan theatre and videotaped them doing a stage play inside somebody's house with pieces of paper taped over the electrical outlets. I wonder when the BBC realized it was okay to spend more than £17 per mini-series. I've seen better values in the cheapest episodes of the original Star Trek series. /rant.
Yep, that's the guy. (and the title always gets confusing because I'm Canadian and so I got it as "MI-5" but everyone calls it Spooks on the Internet, so I generally just do the same) On Spooks he's alright, but there... he's just not pretty enough! (and yes, that episode was rather gruesome... there was a bit of an outcry over it, apparently! And then everyone was trying to reassure us that it was only cold tea.)
I've also seen some very bad versions of Shakespeare done by the BBC... yay, they made a version of all his plays, but what a version... Prince Hal becomes a sad little child... *sigh* (Matthew Macfadyen played him this past summer in London, ah, to have seen it!) that's why I will only watch all the versions of P&P and not the rest of the old Austen stuff! I saw an version of Emma from the 70s at my library, but nothing could persuade me to stick it in my machine!
It's too bad they changed the name to "MI-5" because the hyphen is incorrect. A 70s Emma? I've seen the one with Gwynneth Ugh Paltrow, and the other written by the same guy who wrote Pride and Prejudice, but not a 70s Emma, I think ...
(My favorite Shakespeare movie--so far--is "Othello" wih Kenneth Branagh. And it's about the only one that I've seen. I should recap it too.)
I haven't seen this version yet (and I think it definitely won't be on my list of must-see movies). Is it really as awful as it sounds?
...someone gets electrocuted? Then yes, I'm sure it is as awful as it sounds.
I saw a picture of Orlando Seale, and aww...he's so Darcy-ish.
Elizabeth sounds really obnoxious, though (as does--oh wait, everyone except Darcy, who is never obnoxious. Ever.)
And now I have a strange urge to actually write the screenplay for "Brokeback Prejudice." This will only end in tragedy.
And now I have a strange urge to actually write the screenplay for "Brokeback Prejudice."
Kitty is not so much electrocuted as just shocked. And yeah, Orlando Seale is very Darcyish. All cute and British. His performance isn't perfect, but I think it has more to do with the script than him. Most people I talk to think the movie is "cute," and it is, kinda. The production design and costumes are really nice. So you might want to see it, and might not. I don't know.
....except Darcy, who is never obnoxious. Ever.
You clearly have not seen Bride and Prejudice.
As far as being an Austen adaptation, I kept wanting to hit myself with something while watching it. My friends all liked it, thought it was cute, etc, but then they are not Austen fans per say. (in fact they tease me about it) But all that has been made worthwhile by getting to read this! (after I saw it I desperately wanted to complain to someone about how bad it was Austen-wise). So I suppose not really a "highly recommend" kind of thing, but there are a few nice bits with Darcccyyy... (esp. the cabin in the woods as Pemberley bit) But I couldn't take Lizzy as a writer seriously.
(and do tell what you thought of Bride and Prejudice, redcoast! I thought it was a rather good adaptation to another culture until they started singing out of nowhere...)
I found the singing unsettling because it's not like American musicals, I'm used to those, but in this I'd hear music and think, oh, that's just the background and then Lizzy would turn around and she'd be the one singing it! It seemed like the lamest thing in the world. But yes, Darcy did leave something to be desired. (although I did find the discussion about accomplished women by the pool to be rather amusing) and Elizabeth, meh. But Collins and Mary were amusing, and Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were well done. (and Naveen Andrews was not quite so hot as he was in The English Patient, which was a bit of a disappointment. ;))
I haven't done it yet, but I will someday. I'm in school right now, and I find it hard to recap stuff. (Plus I don't have a DVD player! True story!) I was plenty hard on this one, to the point that I gave it the ultimate insult of not finishing the recap. (But I will later! I think!)
Aww, you're social phobic? Seriously? So am I.
I will be taking some time off. I'm working on a novel, and I really need a break from school, to spend with my family. After that, I don't know. A lot of people are trying to get me to go to graduate school, but it's a hard sell because I hate school in general.
I guess it's not that severe. I've been in and out of therapy for a while, though, and my anxiety has definitely decreased. School is just something that I can do. (I can also talk in class, and to the teachers ...) Education is really important in my family, and I would just feel worse if I didn't go.
I almost borked my graduation paperwork though, and I don't have a job anymore thanks to it ... I'm definitely not recovered yet.
To tell the truth, what you describe sounds more like agoraphobia to me!
I live in Memphis when I'm going to school, and Murfreesboro when I'm with my family. Memphis is a pretty big city, actually, but I don't really to crowded places like the mall very often.
English degrees aren't good for much.
Depends on what you want to do. And having any degree is better than having none when it comes to jobs. If I wanted to work in publishing, for example, English degrees are helpful. In graduate school I could study anything, even fiction writing. For me, school is really just a way to avoid getting a job. I know I don't need a degree to write fiction (my novel's about vampires, by the way; in South Dakota in 1875), but English was the only thing I was interested in doing.
For some reason, I'm pretty confident that I can make it as a published writer. That's why I do it.
And I had just written a rant in my journal about confusing social phobia and agoraphobia. :)
Agoraphobics usually have someone, a "caretaker," with whom they can relax. (And I too find it easier to do certain things when I'm with supportive friends, but on the other hand I can leave the house alone. As a matter of fact, I'm currently living alone.)
I just lost my last job over a confusion about dates, and don't want to apply for a new one. That's all.
Memphis is about 80% black in the city part of it, with most of the white people living in the suburbs around the city. It's not very rich, and there's a lot of crime in the city, but the people are quite nice, or at least I think so. (Oh, and I'm white.) It's hot and humid most of the year, and there's tornadoes and lots of thunderstorms in the spring. It usually snows once a year, in January or December. There are quite a few Asian exchange students at my university, which is decidedly "third-tier."
I don't really like philosophy. I'm not good at it. I've studied psychology a little, but never really considered going into it.
I have a scholarship, but this semester my parents have been giving me money because it's not enough. They can afford it. ;)
I worked tech support for computers.
Don't be guilty that you said social phobia! Agoraphobia usually stems from panic disorder, so if you've never had a panic attack, your psychiatrist would probably be reluctant to diagnose it. Although there is something called "agoraphobia without a history of panic attacks." I think you can have both social anxiety and agoraphobia. The beach example is the best one I think of. Someone with social phobia might be reluctant to go to a crowded beach, but would be okay with going to an empty one. An agoraphobic wouldn't want to visit either.
If you're fearing things that have nothing to do with human interaction, then it's beyond social phobia.
Dry heat is sooo much better than humid heat, but I can handle it. Whatever.
Reading philosophy makes my head hurt. :) I just don't have the capability to be that, like, "Whoaaaa our heads could be in jars!" However, currently I'm a bit of a nihilist ... and I've been thinking that I should research different ethical systems that don't have a concept of a deity. But I wouldn't like to do it for school.
Oh, also, are you taking any medication for the social anxiety? Have you been diagnosed with anything other than that?
Depression! And I was once on anti-depressants, but that was before I was diagnosed with social anxiety. I mostly remember how unpleasant the withdrawal from them was.
Well, I wanted to do sort of a Western vampire novel, some sort of cowboy-Indian-vampire thing. And I studied up on Indian/U.S. Gov. conflicts and decided that that was the right time and place. Have you seen "Deadwood"? Same time, basically. Although I don't want to write about Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok, who were in South Dakota around 1876. Maybe I'll just pretend they never showed up.
The idea is that the vampire infection has gotten completely out of control among the local population of Dakota Indians (also known as the Sioux), and it's also wreaking havoc on a fictional settlement called Profit, with all the gold-miners there. An odd-ball scientist (and his gay assistant) is taking advantage of this situation to thoroughly study the vampires, believing that their ability to regenerate and their apparent lack of aging is the key to eternal life. His main subject/victim manages to escape, and vows to get revenge, even though he (the vampire) is starting to have second thoughts about the whole "eating people" part of his life.
I think of my depression as a symptom and yeah, usually I can handle it.
I have researched it a lot, and considering that it is fiction, I'm okay with bending the facts a little. After all, if there were vampires, history would be a little different, wouldn't it. I'm sticking as close as possible to real history where I can. I'm not really going to remove those guys I mentioned, just probably never bring them up. They weren't really celebrities back then either.
I'm working on the second chapter, which is really the third because there's a prologue.