Reading/Watching Log #46

This month I was all over the place: starting shows and then getting distracted, making leeway on my TBR pile and then bringing more stuff home from the library, and generally just working very haphazardly through everything. But there was some good stuff here this month, especially the long-awaited release of Carnival Row and The Dark Crystal prequel, both of which were on my radar, and neither of which disappointed.

I also rediscovered a pulp fiction trilogy from Caroline B. Cooney that I hadn't read since adolescence and held up surprisingly well, a new trilogy from How To Train Your Dragon author Cressida Cowell, and the latest (at least until this month) from Philip Pullman, which I've been looking forward to for SO long.

It was also the month of Aladdin, in what was already the year of Aladdin.

A pretty good month of material all things considered!

Review: Toy Story 3

Perhaps the smartest thing Pixar ever did when it came to the continuation of the Toy Story franchise was to wait. Wait eleven years in fact.

At the conclusion of Toy Story 2, it would seem the story had run its course, for if the first movie was Buzz coming to terms with his identity crisis, then the sequel did the same for Woody. In those final moments, the two friends are at peace with each other and their joint purpose in life. One day Andy would no longer need them, but that day was not today, and it was enough to simply enjoy his childhood while it lasted.

But then… that day did come. And it came in real time. Those who watched Toy Story as kids were now at the end of their adolescence, and it was time to leave their childhoods behind. The third instalment and culmination of the franchise was therefore perfectly primed to make a potent statement on the passage of time, the inevitability of growing up, and the putting away of childish things… if Pixar could pull it off.

Well, of course they could. Just as the sequel was built heavily on the ideas and themes established in the original, Toy Story 3 had the advantage of expanding on everything the first two films had set up for it, as well as an obvious built-in premise: Andy finally outgrows his toys.

This was an impending reality that was discussed throughout Toy Story 2, largely through conversations between Woody and the Prospector, with the latter’s secret agenda leading him to stoke the former’s fear of change and rejection. “Do you really think Andy is going to take you to college?” he asks at one point, a question that’s unexpectedly answered eleven years later.

Um, yes actually.

Xena Warrior Princess: A Necessary Evil, A Day in the Life, For Him the Bell Tolls

For our next lot of episodes, we have the final episode of the quasi-trilogy, which wasn’t so much a three-part story as three separate adventures that managed to run-on from each other’s conclusion.

Along with the end of Melinda Clarke’s psychotic (and fun) turn as Amazon Velasca, we’ve got a fan favourite that brings Xena and Gabrielle’s Sapphic subtext to the foreground, and a fairly ho-hum comedic episode that once more combines Joxer’s buffoonery with a love potion.

Woman of the Month: Victoria Everglot

Victoria Everglot from Corpse Bride

It’s October, and that requires an appropriately themed Woman of the Month. As it happens, this is the third consecutive year in which a stop-motion heroine has featured, and not entirely by design. There’s just something about those movies that’s inherently spooky.

But I always try to make a point of revisiting my favourite spooky stories in the Halloween season, and this year was Corpse Bride – nowhere near as beloved as Coraline or The Nightmare Before Christmas, but with its own macabre charm.

You may be surprised that I’m going with Victoria instead of Emily, the titular corpse bride, but that’s only because I don’t think Victoria gets enough credit. She’s meek and quiet where Emily is vivacious and passionate, and the film genuinely keeps you in suspense over who Victor will eventually marry – especially when the story makes a point of Emily sharing Victor’s skill at the piano (performing a sweet duet with him), whereas Victoria has never been allowed to touch any instrument in her life.

And yet Victoria is a great example of how a female character can be innately passive and yet still have sweetness, dignity and strength in abundance. And when Victor finds her after accidentally committing himself to Emily, she grabs the sheets off her bed, turns them into a rope, and abseils off her balcony in the pouring rain to seek out help from the bishop.

Granted, this is her sole moment of agency, and it ends with said bishop dragging her home with the admonishment: “you should be at home, prostrate with grief.” Whether it’s being described by her parents as having “a face like an otter in disgrace”, used as a pawn to replenish their depleted fortunes, or getting held hostage by the film’s villain, Victoria isn’t allowed to control the narrative in any way.

Heck, it’s Emily herself who finally gives up her claim on Victor, realizing that she’s wrong to come between Victor and his living bride.

Yet there’s a moment at the beginning of the film, when Victor is struggling with his vows, in which Victoria silently reaches out and lights the candle he’s accidentally extinguished. It’s such a sweet moment of solidarity and sympathy towards someone who is clearly burdened by the expectations put upon him, and it’s this that makes Victoria special. You don’t have to sword fight or play piano or partake in witty repartee to be worthy of love – just be kind.