2016 in a Single Cinematic Moment

I'm hoping to have my Rogue One review up by tomorrow, but before then I just wanted to remind myself of a post I made at the beginning of this year. Namely, that 2014 ended with this:

And 2015 ended with this:

And that if this pattern kept up, I might not survive the end of 2016. Whelp, here's the iconic image that closed off this year:

SPOILERS FOR ROGUE ONE

Links and Updates

Christmas is just around the corner, and I still haven't done any shopping. For anyone. I'm usually pretty good with keeping on top of the Christmas overload, but this year I haven't even found time to put up a Christmas tree. So allow me to keep my head buried in the sand by pointing you toward various trailers and bits of news instead.

Review/Meta: What Are We Searching For in Jane Austen?

I often find myself thinking of Michelle Dockery's words regarding the success of Downton Abbey: she theorized it was because everyone enjoys a decent period piece, but for the most part were forced to watch Jane Austen adaptations over and over again. Since the Nineties and the success of the Colin Firth/Jennifer Ehle take on Pride and Prejudice, producers haven't been blind to the popularity of Austen novels or the money they make.

But what do you do when you've depleted the entire Jane Austen canon? And as a viewer, where do you turn if you're suffering from Downton Abbey withdrawal and yet can't bring yourself to watch Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time?

The answer is what I'm going to call Jane Austen supplements. This is the material that isn't straightforward adaptations of her novels, but films and miniseries that are tangentially connected to her work, giving audiences all the trappings of a period drama without the predictability of plot. These related works are biopics, parodies and unofficial sequels, but having recently worked my way through them, I was struck by some of the common elements they all shared.

Jane Austen supplements expose the underlying and enduring appeal of this author, particularly in how she's now marketed to a modern audience. After watching seven of them (Death Comes to Pemberley, Lost in Austen, Austenland, Becoming Jane, Miss Austen Regrets, The Jane Austen Book Club and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies) I was left with a theory as to what exactly people find so alluring about this particular subgenre, and what the writers/creators are specifically catering to when delivering them.

The Legend of Korra: The Guide and A New Spiritual Age

As always, I watched these two episodes back-to-back, and I'm glad I did. It means delaying my Korra fix for a week, but you end up getting a much juicier story as a result. But I was particularly nervous this time around given the dramatic improvement in the show and my hopes that the quality would remain high. I was nearly about to call it quits only for The Sting to end up surpassing my expectations, followed by the Beginnings two-parter, which completely blew me away. So I had my fingers crossed that these two episodes would continue to buck the trend. And they did!

Even better, I was completely unspoiled for the appearance of Iroh. These days, spoilers are well-nigh impossible to avoid. There are articles and interviews and promotional material that seem determined to give away every tiny surprise and plot-twist before it airs, and even if you manage to avoid all that, there's always the (good) chance that if you delay watching even for a single day, you'll accidentally end up seeing or hearing what happened on-line.

Spoilers are the bane of my existence, simply because I think they're the bane of storytelling's existence, but that's a rant for another day. Suffice to say that when Iroh appeared out of the darkness, I was genuinely and whole-heartedly surprised, not only at his appearance, but at the fact I didn't know it was going to happen. And I can't remember the last time that I was allowed to be totally unaware of where a story was heading. It was such a nice feeling.

Faerie Tale Theatre: Rumplestiltskin

Back in April I watched and reviewed the first episode in Shelley Duvall's Faerie Tale Theatre, having never seen it as a child but being interested in its subject matter and Eighties aesthetic. I always meant to continue with the show, but haven't had the chance until now.

On reflection, Rumplestiltskin is a tough fairy tale to adapt. It’s a strange and sad story in a number of ways, centred on a woman who is surrounded on all sides by completely terrifying men. Her father's bragging lands her in captivity, her future husband keeps threatening to kill her if she doesn't obey his impossible commands, and the little man who comes to her rescue demands her firstborn child in exchange for saving her life.

It's horrifying. This woman's only speckle of agency comes when she orders servants to go out and discover Rumplestiltskin's name and so save her child. Yet even after she successfully defeats her baby from God only knows what fate, it's difficult to feel too happy for her: she's still married to a psycho who holds her life in his hands.

How to adapt such a depressing tale for a children's afterschool show?

Reading/Watching Log #11

I read and watched a LOT of stuff this month, which is apparently what happens when you complete your studies and get your diploma. So much free time. It's a bit scary. I clocked in four books, six movies and seven TV shows, plus a show at the Isaac Theatre Royal. Spies, archaeologists, robots, detectives, artists, superheroes – there was no real theme to the content, but it certainly made for an eclectic month.

God knows we're going to need top-notch escapism in the coming years, so hopefully you'll find something here that piques your interest.  

Standing Tall #16

This was one of my favourite giraffes, as it had such a simple but clever premise: designed to look like an old-fashioned wooden toy crane. Cranes have become a pretty normal part of the Christchurch landscape in the last few years, and this one was situated in Cathedral Junction: a tram stop under a high glass awning that miraculously escaped any serious damage during the quake.

Called Toy Toys and created by Martyn Giles, who apparently had help from his wife and children, my favourite detail would have to be the wood finish and the wheels on the feet; just to clarify that this is in fact a toy. Plus, it even featured Shrek's Pinocchio on each side.