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.

Review: X-Men Apocalypse

This garbage fire disaster nightmare clusterfuck of a year continues with a series of earthquakes across New Zealand, killing two and causing extensive damage in several coastal towns. I'm reasonably safe where I am, though the difference between this quake and the big ones in 2010 and 2011 is down to just how long it went on for. I was drifting off to sleep when it hit, and for a while I didn't move since we're all used to little shakes every now and then.

But it just kept going and going and going – at the intensity of your average amusement park ride, but still: I was on the verge of serious fear that it wasn't going to stop at all. It must have lasted at least fifty seconds – which doesn't sound like much; but trust me, it does when you're stuck in a shaking building. Afterwards I went outside, feeling so dizzy that I couldn't walk in a straight line. 

But despite kids getting the next day off school, everything went on pretty much as normal. What most people got out of it was this photograph of cows on an island of grass that had been thrust out of the ground by the quake:

Don't worry, we rescued them. Not only that, but we rescued them before air-lifting out tourists stranded in Kaikoura. Priorities.

So against this backdrop of political turmoil and natural disasters, it seems as apt a time as any to review X-Men Apocalypse.

More Words...

I've found my personal anthem for the next four years. Make it yours as well.

Try and get better and don't ever accept less,

Take a plain black marker and write this on your chest,

Draw a line underneath all of this unhappiness,

Come on now, let's fix this mess,

We can get better,

BECAUSE WE'RE NOT DEAD YET.

Some Words...

It's hard to know what to say or do at times like these. The overwhelming emotion is one of powerlessness: that in the face of bigotry and fear and hate there is nothing anyone can do.

But over the past two days, words have come to me – oddly enough, from poets and authors I haven't read since I was a teenager. Recent events dislodged them in my mind, they rose to the surface, and the memory of them was compelling enough for me to seek them out.

I'm following pure instinct here, but I like to think that there's a smidgeon of fate at work: despite not having read these words in so many years, I was able to effortlessly find them again (a random scroll down through a PDF document landed on the exact passage I was searching for; almost as if it wanted to be found).

Though they may seem somewhat irrelevant, they've brought me some comfort; hopefully they will for you too.

The Legend of Korra: Beginnings Part I and II

Let me rave about Beginnings.

Only ... I don’t even know where to start really. These two episodes not only revealed the origins of the Avatar, but fleshed out nearly every single story note that the show has ever had. Re-watching the original series will be a brand new experience, as now the viewer is armed with backstory that sheds light on everything from the lion turtles to the nature of bending to humanity's relationship with the spirits to the cosmic forces that shape the world. I’m still reeling a little bit from just how expansive and inclusive it all was.

The entire thing is framed by Korra’s experience as a survivor of a spirit attack that left her washed up on the shores of the Fire Nation, bereft of her memories. Thankfully, instead of something that’s going to be wrung out over the rest of the season for maximum angst, this Easy Amnesia is cleared up by the end of the two-parter, rendering it a simple plot device that provides the narrative excuse for her to float back in time to her very first incarnation.