I watched the film online at NetFlix, and I was pleasantly surprised. You can read the plot summary and so forth at NetFlix or Amazon or IMDb or wherever. My reaction: The deep characters enthralled me, especially Helen Hunt’s character, who lives a conflicted life without regrets–if you can believe that–and who is immediately sympathetic, despite her nefarious reputation. The complex character-driven storyline kept me on the edge of my seat, literally. At one point in the film, I jumped from my seat, angry at one of the antagonists, a wimpy, red-headed prig, with a little dog she obviously loves more than she loves other people– I jumped from my seat in anger, certain she was going to hell. Everything came together in the penultimate scene, which set up a resolution I did not see coming. This is a story about love, trust, gossip, and the nature of truth.

Note that Helen Hunt plays a different kind of character in this film, one that not everyone may find enjoyable. And some of the characters are weak, thrown in for comedic effect, which unfortunately doesn’t always work. And if the critics are right, you might enjoy Oscar Wilde’s original play more, but you can’t get that from NetFlix or Amazon.

Bottom line: There is only a handful of films that have enthralled me as A Good Woman has. Despite the critics’ balking, 93 minutes well-spent. I rate it 5 stars out of 5, because not only did I love watching it, I feel like I want to watch it again as soon as possible.

-TimK

P.S. To become my NetFlix friend, click here.

A word about my rating system: I use a variant of the Netflix rating system.

1 star = I hated it. This is not necessarily bad, because it means it inspired fierce emotion in me. Negative emotion, yes, but emotion nonetheless.

2 stars = I didn’t like it. Also didn’t hate it. The only thing worse than being hated is finding out that no one gives a damn.

3 stars = I liked it, but I probably wouldn’t watch it again.

4 stars = I really liked it, and I would watch it again.

5 stars = I loved it, and I want to watch it again and again and again.

Hee! I so miss Harlan Ellison’s rants. Back in the day, when the SciFi channel actually had programming worth watching, he did a segment on a half-hour SF news show. I watched it regularly. He disgusted my brother. Me too, actually. But I loved it, and I miss it. Ellison’s recommendation put me onto Stanislaw Lem, another of the best science-fiction writers who ever lived.

Okay. Enough reminiscing and fawning, as though I actually like the guy. On to the video:

This video is excerpted from the upcoming (next year) documentary about Harlan Ellison, his career, and his writings, entitled Dreams with Sharp Teeth. (You might want to turn down your speakers before clicking this link, though. I need to do a rant about poorly designed web sites that blast music at you…)

-TimK

Basically, it doesn’t actually tell a story. It tries, yes. But really it just shows us penguins. Lots and lots of penguins. And we’re supposed to be sad that some of them die.

These penguins are just the unnamed amongst the many, and it’s hard–actually impossible–for me to work up any great sympathy for a million bazillion penguins.

Now, show me one close-knit family of penguins, and that’s something I can sympathize with. The hardest thing you’ll have to do to make sympathetic penguins is make them seem human. And you can only do that if you zoom in on individuals and tell their story. March of the Penguins doesn’t do that.

It’s still a good documentary, mind you. But I’m not going out of my way to see it, no matter how many awards it’s won. Because I’ve already seen it, and i know what level of mediocrity to expect.

Want an alternative recommendation? Rent Broken English instead: A “too much like real life” film about a woman so desperately lonely, she gives up on real life. Maybe I like it so much, because I can really sympathize with Nora Wilder. Regardless, I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve seen it since it came out on DVD, and I still want to watch it again. It’s the best Parker Posey role ever.

-TimK

Alexis Bledel’s latest film I’m Reed Fish, also starring Jay Baruchel as the title character Reed Fish, actually came out on DVD on September 4. Netflix even sent me a copy, which I enjoyed immensely. But Amazon still has the I’m Reed Fish DVD scheduled for release this coming week, on Tuesday. Whatever.

In any case, if you haven’t seen this yet, I think it’s well worth watching. (As if you cared about my opinion.) You may have to watch it twice to catch all the nuances. But if you keep in mind that it’s not a romance story, you’ll probably enjoy it more the first time.

I’m Reed Fish is about a radio personality, Reed Fish, in the back-woods hamlet of Mud Meadows. Now, Mud Meadows has been compared to Stars Hollow. But Stars Hollow is much too urban to make the comparison work. Mud Meadows is more reminiscent of Cicely, Alaska. But Reed is no Chris Stevens. No, Reed Fish is going through an acute crisis of self-identity. He’s always done what everyone else expected him to, has always been who everyone else expected him to be. This film is about whether he’ll be able to break that mold and be the person he actually is.

As I said, I really enjoyed the film. And if you haven’t seen it yet, get a copy, or rent it from Netflix.com. In fact, you can watch the movie on-line using Netflix’s “Watch Instantly” feature, which is included with your Netflix membership.

Therefore, to commemorate the I’m Reed Fish DVD release, on whatever date you celebrate it, here’s the official Gilmore-ism.com top-10 list of best things about I’m Reed Fish:

10. Quirkiest Character: D.J. Qualls as Andrew. He thinks he’s Chuck Norris. He says, “I love you,” when he gets drunk. You smile at him, because that’s what you do to crazy people to calm them down. He would fit right in in Stars Hollow. If Kirk got married, it would probably be a lot like Andrew’s wedding.

9. Most Overused Line: “Quit zorsing around and get back to work!” Hey, it was actually funny when Jill first said it!

8. Most Hitchcockian Moment: Reed Fish’s cameo as “John Penner.” (Alfred Hitchcock always made a cameo appearance in each of his films.)

7. Coolest Voice You Almost Recognize: Katey Sagal, as Maureen, Mayor of Mud Meadows. (I hope that’s enough M‘s.) If you close your eyes, you might recognize her as Leela, from Futurama. Yes, in Reed Fish, she has both eyes.

6. Most Obscure Actor from a Famous TV Series: Blake Clark, as Irv Peterson, Kate’s father. He also played Harry, the owner of the hardware store, in Home Improvement, which you can still catch in reruns on multiple channels. Of course, he was 10 years younger then, but you can still recognize him.

5. Coolest Scene: Schuyler Fisk (as Jill Cavanaugh) singing “From Where I’m Standing.” Here’s the video clip. And no, Reed shouldn’t be kissing her, because he’s engaged to Kate.

4. Biggest Goof that Actually Made it Into the Film: Two goofs tied for this one. First of all, in the above clip, look at Schuyler’s left hand when sings the bridge. “Let it fall. Let it come down…” On the words “come down,” she forgets what the next chord is she’s supposed to play. I guess they didn’t use that take for the audio!

Then in the scene following, when Reed goes to talk to Kate, look at Alexis’s hair. Her bangs suddenly change. Then they just as suddenly change back again.

3. Coolest Surprise Character: Shiri Appleby as the real Jill Cavanaugh. This is not a spoiler. But I’m still not going to tell you what that’s all about. You’ll have to watch the film.

2. Most Sympathetic Kate Moment: When she took Reed back. That’s when you felt the worst for her. In fact, it’s the only time I truly felt bad for her. Silly girl. She forgot that this is not a romance story. It’s about Reed finding himself. And he hadn’t found himself yet.

Well, you knew I had to work Alexis Bledel into the list somewhere. Seriously, though, she did a wonderful job as Kate. This was a very unsympathetic character–not a villain, but also not someone you root for. That means Kate was for the most part very 2-dimensional. But Alexis made her memorable.

1. Most Romantic Moment: Reed and Jill on Miss Sandstrom’s roof, looking at stars, making up constellations, sharing secrets.

So that’s my top-10 list for the movie I’m Reed Fish. As I said, definitely worth seeing, at least once. And maybe 4 times, as I did.

-TimK

P.S. Here’s the I’m Reed Fish trailer:

I rented Kickin It Old Skool, because it co-stars Aris Alvarado of Gilmore Girls fame, and I’m a huge Gilmore Girls fan. But I clearly could have done better. Maybe by watching grass grow instead of watching this movie.

Kickin It Old Skool is the comedic story of one Justin Schumacher (Jamie Kennedy), who as a boy hits his head in a breakdancing accident and ends up in a coma. After 20 years, he wakes up to find that his parents kept him alive by mortgaging their house to the hilt, and now the bank is threatening to foreclose. He also discovers his childhood sweetheart Jennifer (Maria Menounos) is engaged to his arch-enemy. He must get his old breakdancing group together again, now all in their thirties, and win a TV dance contest with a $100,000 prize, in order to save his parents’ home and to get the girl back from the villain.

And yes, it really is as stupid as it sounds. Frankly, this film is too juvenile to be enjoyed by an adult, but has too much adult content to be suitable for a kid. However, I have labored through this film, not just once, but twice, so that you won’t have to bear it even one time. And so that you can still appreciate the full depth of its shallowness, I’ve compiled a top-10 list… er… I mean, bottom-10 list of the 10 worst aspects of this movie.

10. Most Juvenile and Trite Character: The villain, Kip (Michael Rosenbaum), who was a cliché as Young Kip (Taylor Beaumont), and who somehow didn’t grow up any better than Justin, even though he was not in a coma. He’s nasty; he’s snide; he’s self-absorbed; he demeans everyone, including the girl (and inexplicably gets her anyhow); he fights dirty and thinks he can get away with it; and he always wears black, because that’s how we know he’s the villain. And his idea of a funny joke is offering to shake your hand and then yanking his away at the last minute.

Note that Kip beat out Justin’s parents for this coveted spot, just barely. They are even stupider than Samantha Who‘s parents. (Why must the parents of fictional coma patients be more brain-dead than their children?) Kip beat them out for the “Most Juvenile and Trite Character” award only because… well, because he was on-screen first.

9. Worst 80′s Allusion: “Do you wanna come over and maybe watch Blue Lagoon? We have it on Beta.” Beta? Need I say more?

8. Stupidest Plot Device: 20 years in a coma? Come on! The brain degrades while one is in a coma. And the longer one is in it, the less likely he’ll wake up, at least without being a vegetable. When Samantha Who wakes up after several days in a coma, she can’t remember who she is, and that’s actually plausible. But to wake up after 20 years and just pick up where he left off? What is this? Sci-fi? (No, because sci-fi is way better than that.)

7. Dumbest Joke: When the bum urinates all over himself. On two separate occasions. Or maybe when Justin pretends his chocolate birthday cake is feces. Yeah, pee and poop jokes. Real funny. Sorry, was I supposed to laugh?

6. Most Contrived Plot: Justin plans to get the Funky Fresh Boys back together again, win the dance contest and the $100,000 prize, so that he can save his parents’ house and so that Jenny will have to come back to him.

5. Most Contrived Character: Justin himself, because throughout this sordid tale, he continued to act and think like a pre-adolescent from the 1980′s, even though he clearly knew 20 years had passed. A real person in that situation (if that preposterous situation ever could exist) would have questioned everything he knew, until he was sure he had come up to date. It was clear that the only reason he persisted in this silly, backward behavior was because if he acted like a real person would have, most of the movie’s jokes would have disappeared.

4. Most Disturbing Scene: Hector pretending to be a woman, in a wig and bra, in order to demonstrate to Justin how to get, uh, amorous. Or maybe the most disturbing scene was Justin seeing a woman’s breasts for the first time. Sheesh! Grow up already, will you!?

3. Dorkiest Surprise Guest Star: David Hasselhoff acting like Michael Knight in a Kit look-alike. And then making a veiled reference to a woman’s nipples. Almost made me puke.

2. Most Misplaced Actress: Maria Menounos as Jennifer. It’s wrong to waste such a gorgeous and talented actress in such an unsympathetic and unsatisfying role.

1. Most Melodramatic Moment: When Justin at the end of the story in order to win the dance contest must perform the same move that put him in a coma for 20 years. Gosh, I never saw that coming. Will our hero finally pull it off? Or will he end up in another coma for another 20 years? Find out in the next exciting episode!

Using just about every Nickelodeon-after-school character and plot device in the book, combined with just enough crude sexual content and language such that I wouldn’t let my kids watch it–and I’m a pretty forward-thinking parent… Kickin It Old Skool is best rented only if you want to get together with a bunch of friends and make cheap fun of it. Don’t expect to laugh at this movie. Expect to laugh at its expense, if at all. And expect to roll your eyes a lot.

-TimK

P.S. Here’s the Kickin It Old Skool trailer:

The Lake House is definitely one of my all-time favorite movies. It’s marketed as a romance, but if I could make up any genre in which to place this film, I’d call it Romantic Sci-Fi, which I think is the best genre ever. I’m a big fan of intelligent romance–or any story that explores the complexities of relationships. And I also love science-fiction. Combining the two is something that’s not done nearly enough.

The story is based on the Y2K Korean film Siworae (a.k.a. Il Mare), which by the way is correctly categorized on IMDb as “Romance, Sci-Fi.” The Lake House is the story of two people whose destinies were bound together even before they met. Dr. Kate Forster (Sandra Bullock) has been living at the lake house. Now, in February 2006, she takes a position at Chicago City Hospital and moves to a city apartment. She leaves a letter in the lake house’s mailbox, asking the next tenant to forward her mail.

The problem is, the “next tenant” is Alex Wyler (Keanu Reeves), who bought the lake house before she even moved in, back in February 2004. Anything Kate puts into the mailbox is delivered 2 years earlier, and anything Alex mails, Kate finds there in 2006. The two pen pals begin exchanging letters, and a relationship blossoms.

Two things really draw me to this film, as a storyteller. Firstly, it has good interaction between character and plot. From the way they write, it seems many science-fiction writers–especially beginners–don’t understand how important character conflict and change is, because their stories are so heavy-laden with techno-babble or strange occurrences. Similarly, new romance writers often underestimate the value of plot-based conflict to move their stories forward. Making character and plot work together isn’t a matter of getting the right “mix,” but the right relationship between the two. Both character and plot should be going full bore. Because characters react to the plot, and they determine the plot. In other words, the draw of The Lake House is not the magic time portal that sends letters across 2 years. The draw is that these particular characters encounter the time portal, and use it to establish a relationship, and it affects their lives in a way that could not have occurred otherwise.

The second storytelling draw of The Lake House is the complexity of the characters. Complex characters are common in romance, of course, but not so much in science-fiction. That may make this film more of a “SF romance” than “romantic SF,” because maybe most SF fans can’t understand character complexity. (It’s a thought that’s occurred to me, anyhow.) They can’t understand that Kate is miserable and empty, and that Alex speaks to her soul. Nor that she has met Alex before, multiple times, and that she doesn’t remember him, because her own problems have absorbed her thoughts. They can’t understand that Alex bought the lake house because it brought him closer to his estranged father, and that he allowed Kate to move into the house, only because she was already an integral part of his present and his future.

Romance fans (i.e., “women”) are likely to love this film. Sci-fi fans (i.e., “men”) are likely to rate it as okay, not the worst chick-flick ever made. Interestingly enough, on IMDb, males under 18 rated The Lake House almost as highly as the girls did, with the highest chunk of those boys giving it a 10-out-of-10 rating. I think I will think twice before joking about testosterone-crazed, adolescent boys again.

One more note: Inspired screenwriting and cinematography permeates this film. I won’t talk about it much, except to say that for me to mention the cinematography, it must be really worth mentioning. Because for me, cinematography is normally one of those things that if you notice it, the director has done something wrong. Cinematography is a tool you use to tell the story. And wild cinematography gets in the way of storytelling. This is one of those rare cases, however, in which the cinematography goes above and beyond its call. It tells the story, but so artfully that it leaves me with that “That’s so kewl!” feeling.

As I said, I think this is going to become one of my all-time favorite films. I’ve already watched it numerous times, and I like it more each time I see it. So here are the top 10 things I like in The Lake House:

10. Coolest Character Who Can’t Talk: Jack, the dog. Jack is one of the only characters who exists in both time frames. The others being Dr. Klyczynski (Shohreh Aghdashloo) and Henry Wyler (Ebon Moss-Bachrach). Jack has a special bond to the lake house and to its magic. She ran into Alex’s life out of nowhere, and then at the right time, she ran out again… into Kate’s. And she has a special bond to Alex and Kate, both people, in both time frames. Kate originally named Jack, in fact, in the future, before she knew Alex. (Don’t get confused. Just accept it. It’s part of the magic.)

9. Most Confusing Occurrence that Actually Makes Sense When You Think About It: When Alex plants a tree in front of 1620 N. Racine, it magically appears at that location in the future. At first thought, that made no sense to me, because if he had planted it in the past, it would have always been there in Kate’s present. But this isn’t how the lake house works. If Kate asks for something, as she did with the tree, Alex can change it in the past, and it will change in Kate’s present. That’s the rule. It has to be, or else the ending wouldn’t even work. (And with this rule, the ending works perfectly.)

8. Best Secondary Character: Simon Wyler (Christopher Plummer), Alex’s father. He actually has a personality, which is pretty important, because he’s such a significant influence in Alex’s life. He fills a room with his presence and is demanding on his underlings, including his sons. He’s been described as a “sadistic, bitter, bitter, bitter old man.” For a long time, Alex refused to have anything to do with him, because of the way the old man acted when Alex’s mother died. But then when the old man himself dies… It’s because of Simon Wyler that we get to see what a deep, complex character Alex is.

7. Best Song: Paul McCartney’s “This Never Happened Before,” which will never feel quite the same to me again. It’s the closing theme of the film, and it’s also the song Kate and Alex dance to at her birthday party. (See “Most Romantic Moment” below.) And furthermore, it’s the coolest anachronism in the film. As I said, this song was playing at Kate’s birthday party, in the autumn of 2004, shortly before Alex’s father dies on October 6, 2004 (according to the death certificate visible on-screen). However, Paul McCartney didn’t actually release this song until September 13, 2005, a year later.

6. Coolest Plot Hole: There aren’t many plot holes, and most of the so-called plot holes that fans identify aren’t really plot holes at all, just misunderstandings of the rules of the magic of the lake house. There is a set of rules that explains all the supposed plot holes, except for one. Just before Kate sends Alex a scarf, writing to him that there was a freak snowstorm in April 2004, she looks at a picture taken April 3, 2004, and notes that Jack (the dog) was not happy that day. But April 3, 2004 was many months before Jack had run into her life. In April 2004, Jack was with Alex, at the lake house, not with Kate.

Of course, we didn’t actually see Jack in the picture. So this could just be Kate’s memory screwing up again. (See “Most Romantic Moment” below.)

5. Coolest Camera Angle: From inside a revolving door. When Henry Wyler goes through the revolving door, the camera follows him through. Then the camera continues around, in the door, so we can see via reverse angle that Henry’s companion, who he had been talking to, has remained behind. The door and camera finally come to rest pointing forward, where we can see Henry go out to reunite with his brother Alex.

4. Most Hitchcockian Moment: Or rather, “moments.” Twice in the film, Kate sees Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman on TV, starring in Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious.

3. Most Romantic Moment: Kate’s birthday party. Depressed and struggling with doubt and loneliness, she ends up dancing with some random guy and kissing him. Some random guy indeed! (It was Alex.) Alex knew exactly how to speak to her soul. But Kate wouldn’t even remember him. (She never remembers him.) The classic romantic moment, doomed to fail.

2. Saddest Moment: As Kate discovers that Alex’s father has passed away, exactly 2 years after the fact. She rushes to the lake house, and leaves a touching letter in the mailbox. It appears, when need be, Kate also knows how to speak to Alex’s soul.

Or maybe the saddest moment is when Kate breaks up with Alex, as it were. I can’t go into why that’s so sad, because it would spoil the plot. Suffice it to say that it gets more heart-wrenching each successive time you watch the film.

1. Most Dramatic Moment: The climax. Sorry, can’t tell you more about it without spoiling the plot. But I will say that I knew how the story ended before I saw The Lake House for the first time, and I loved the climax just the same.

In summary, if you like a good romance, or just a good tear-jerker, The Lake House is worth checking out.

-TimK

P.S. Here’s the Lake House trailer:

-TimK

The Gilmore Girls Fanatic recently mentioned how much she is enjoying learning about Sylvia Plath, one of the most mentioned cultural figures on Gilmore Girls. I almost heard the Fanatic say she was ashamed to admire a giant so disturbed. But I imagined it.

Then writer Charles Deemer, at The Writing Life, asked, “Why do so many writers commit suicide?” There’s a long list, including Ernest Hemingway, Anne Sexton, Virginia Woolf, and of course Sylvia Plath. It almost makes one think of writing as a dangerous occupation.

And then I fall head over heels for Sylvia, a film that may have generated more complaints than understanding.

The problem is that Sylvia Plath and her husband Ted Hughes, like many artists, are so frequently misunderstood. The gift the artist has is a double-edged sword. It allows him to move others with nothing more than shapes on a canvas, or words on a page, or vibrations in the air. But artists are a special breed. They are passionate and temperamental. Their feelings flow into the work they create. And they love it when you identify with and appreciate what they’ve created, because by doing so you are identifying with and appreciating them. Artists can be impossible to get along with, or even to get to know. But if you can know one, he’ll become a most understanding and dedicated friend, more loving than an old dog. I know, because I’ve known enough artists. And I myself am one. I’ve been a musician since I was a little boy. And I’ve been writing since I was a teenager. And I understand what makes artists tick.

In The Heart of the Artist, Rory Noland tells the story of Dan, a twenty-year-old art student. Dan spends innumerable hours with his paintings and drawings. Sometimes, he forgets to eat and to sleep, because he’s so involved in a project. He’s eccentric and passionate. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but he socializes almost not at all. He allows himself only one activity besides his art.

Marshall stacks don’t know Christians from atheists.

Dan appreciates his spiritual side. There’s a part of art that is innately spiritual. In fact, in this age of pop secular humanism, I don’t think many people realize how important a healthy spiritual life is. Especially for an artist. Sometimes, it’s all that holds you together, all that connects you with who you are and with how you feel.

So once a week, Dan visits his friends Fred and Nancy at their home bible study. It’s the only time he spends with other people.

Fred is studying to be a pastor, and this week he asked each person to select a passage from the book of Psalms. But not just any passage. Each person should pick something that describes his life right now. Fred went first. He opened to the very first Psalm, a passage he had just been studying. “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners.”

Nancy went next. She wanted to talk about how well she and Fred were doing financially. Her voice swelled as she read. “The Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.”

Adele’s turn came next. Fred and Nancy have been trying to fix up Dan and Adele. She just started a new job, and she’s been having problems making it work. So she chose a passage about trusting God. “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.”

As Adele finished and closed the book, everyone’s eyes turned to Dan.

Dan has been feeling a little depressed. No one knows why, not even Dan himself. Maybe it’s that he’s been having trouble getting started with his latest project. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just started a new semester at school, and he’s got all new classes, and he’s still adjusting. Maybe it’s because he has some money issues, as many students do. Or maybe it’s just because the cold, wet winter is dragging on, and the weather is getting him down.

The group stares at Dan as he begins to speak. He tries to explain, where his life is, why he chose the passage… But everything comes out in gibberish, pieces of half-understood, half-pieces of words and sentences, incoherent. How can Dan explain the way he feels when he doesn’t even understand it himself.

Suddenly, he stops. He stands up and reads:

I cry to you for help, O Lord;
In the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, O Lord, do you reject me
And hide your face from me?

From my youth I have been afflicted and close to death;
I have suffered Your terrors and am in despair.
Your wrath has swept over me;
Your terrors have destroyed me.
All day long they surround me like a flood;
They have completely engulfed me.
You have taken my companions and loved ones from me;
The darkness is my closest friend.

Silence.

Dan sits back down.

The room is still.

Fred swallows, then clears his throat.

“Why, Dan,” he says, “with all the blessings God has given, I was hoping you would read something uplifting, like one of the praise psalms.”

Thwack

Right about this point in the story, I feel like slapping Fred upside the head.

I unfortunately have known enough of these types, too busy to listen, too busy to care. I’ve known enough of these types to notice that each of us does this at least once in his life. We each have become one of them.

And they said Sylvia Plath was insane. I would be lucky to be so insane. And inspired. As it is, I only fall into depression with the coming of winter. This winter has been especially hard, with all of the sadness and little of the inspiration I have come to appreciate. Yet I would have it no other way. I enjoy being able to lose myself in a sad movie, and I enjoy being able to cry.

But I digress. My point is simple. Don’t look at Sylvia as a tragic case of a woman troubled by depression, unable to escape, until finally it took her life. Yes, her story does kind of give that impression. Even Sylvia may have thought of herself in those terms. The Bell Jar she wrote during the last part of her life. She based it on her own experiences. The main character is a reflection of Sylvia herself. Except that in The Bell Jar, Esther gets help and escapes the bell jar. Or at least we can imagine that she did.

Even the ending to the story parallels how Sylvia must have felt writing it. We never actually find out whether Esther makes it out of the insane asylum. This was Sylvia’s cry to escape the suffocating confines of the bell jar. And would she succeed? Even she did not know the ending to the story.

Writers often write of the worst experiences in their own lives. Except in the story, the hero conquers the challenges. Sometimes, there has to be a happy ending. A story is a wish.

They say Sylvia gives short shrift to the real Sylvia Plath’s life. Of course it does. How can you sum up a person in 110 minutes? They say it is inaccurate. Yes, it is, to an extent. But I still believe it captures a part of the person that makes her worth admiring.

• Sylvia papers her walls with rejection slips. Real writers actually used to do this back in the day of typewriters and carbon paper. They’d send out an inquiry letter and manuscript, along with a self-addressed, stamped envelope. And when the publisher sent back their manuscript with a rejection slip, they’d immediately send it out again to another publisher. And then they’d pin the rejection slip up on the wall. Why would they do that? To show progress. In writing, 95% of success is just showing up. And so the more publishers you can send your manuscript to, the better your chances of getting published. Now, writers print out the rejection emails and paper their walls with them. Sylvia sends out manuscripts for her husband and never misses a beat. Still, when someone rejects her own work, it gets her down. Sometimes, I guess, it’s good to have someone to lean on.

• Sylvia struggles with writer’s block. And instead of struggling with writing, she fills her time with… stuff. She finds excuses not to write. And she needs someone to put her back on the right track. Again, this is a challenge every writer faces. Every writer will have times when she needs to write, and she can’t. Nothing she tries comes out right. Those are the times when she is most vulnerable, when it’s easiest to focus on how much housework needs to be done, or how relaxing it would be to watch TV, or even how much more research she needs to do before she can finish her book. And thank God for those in our lives who get us back on track, focus us on our work, and remind us what makes our writing worthwhile.

• Want to know who Sylvia was? Read her books. Sylvia’s subject is herself. Her father’s death devastated her and became her theme. Her own attempted suicides are her topic. Her depression is her inspiration. They say beginning writers lean more on their own lives as subject matter. But that’s a myth. Experienced writers do, too. But they disguise it better. They combine myriad experiences into an exciting, new whole, and then they pepper it with variations. It looks like something new and different. But really, it’s all happened before. The best writers know how to draw on their own history, feelings, and passions. These things, sometimes the good ones, but especially the bad, center of the best works ever written.

• Sylvia’s life is bound together with that of her husband. Some think that caring about what other people think of you makes you weak. Some think that the movie’s portrayal of Sylvia, becoming lost in her husband, makes her an unworthy heroine. The opposite is true. Because this is part of her passion, and part of what gives her character. Their relationship brings meaning and fulfillment to her life. So when he stays out late, it upsets her. When she suspects he’s cheating on her, it devastates her. The ability to sympathize and identify with others is a strength all artists have and something we should foster. It’s the strength that allows us to love the stories we read, the music we hear, the art we see. And it’s the strength that allows us to reflect that love in our own art, to carry on the tradition. This is surely a part of the real Sylvia Plath’s personality that made her the great poet she was.

And they say Sylvia Plath was insane. But don’t look at Sylvia as a tragic figure so overcome by depression that it killed her. Rather, see in her a heroine, a Christ-figure even. Because Sylvia gave her life for us, those who now understand her through her art. The passions that tore her apart were also what enabled her to create:

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I’m finally through…

Please, make me cry

I love stories of all sorts. A character doesn’t have to have any particular characteristic in order for me to sympathize with him. Usually, attempts to build a character out of interesting, as it were, characteristics, these attempts just come out gimmicky. But Sylvia is one of those stories that affects me in a special, very personal way. Because she’s not just a compelling character. Sylvia reflects part of who I am, making the bittersweet denouement all the more intense.

But I would have it no other way. I like losing myself in a sad movie. And I want it to make me cry.

Review of The Notebook, directed by Nick Cassavetes, based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks.

An elderly woman (Gena Rowlands) stands, looking out of the nursing home window. An elderly man (James Garner) visits her. She doesn’t know him, but he clearly considers her an old friend. He reads to her a story from a small notebook, a story about young Noah (Ryan Gosling) and his one true love Allie (Rachel McAdams). They fell madly in love one summer. But she comes from a rich family, and her mother doesn’t want her marrying below her class. Allie gets not even one of Noah’s letters. She falls in love with and gets engaged to a handsome busnessman, with her parents’ full support.

Meanwhile, with a big hole in his heart, Noah buys and rebuilds a 200-year-old house, his dream house. It had been his dream even before it was his and Allie’s dream. And now this dream is all he has of her.

Recounting this plot makes me feel a little like crying. Of course, Noah and Allie encounter each other again. And when they do, it is a tense moment indeed. Their longings and struggles are the best and worst of first love.

The man and woman in the nursing home are also not just there as an excuse to tell the story of Noah and Allie. They have their own story as well. Who are they? Why doesn’t she know him? Why does he sit and read to her? This is just for starters. That story made me cry, too, by the way. The Notebook is a story within a story, a two-barreled romance.

The film is rated PG-13 for sex. It’s also a little on the long side, a little over 2 hours. And at times, the story dragged. All outstanding conflicts seemed to be resolved. I felt like the story should be over. I wondered why I was still watching, why I cared about what was happening on the screen.

All said, I enjoyed The Notebook and fully recommend it as a heart-stabbing, romantic tear-jerker.

The Notebook
directed by Nick Cassavetes
Rated PG-13 for some sexuality
US movie release: June 25, 2004
US DVD release: February 8, 2005
Run time: 124 minutes

Note also the novel by Nicholas Sparks.

P.S. Here’s the Notebook trailer:

A review of Smilla’s Sense of Snow, the movie.

I first encountered this underappreciated sci-fi mystery flick when Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert gave it two thumbs up in 1997. Smilla’s Sense of Snow stars Julia Ormond and Gabriel Byrne and is based on the novel by Peter Høeg of the same name. And of course, now we can see it on DVD.

Smilla Jaspersen is a resident of Copenhagen, but she grew up in Greenland. She comes home one day to find the little boy from the apartment below hers. He is lying face-down on the sidewalk, having fallen from playing on the roof of the building. The young boy Isaiah was not just her neighbor; he was also her friend, probably her only true friend. And immediately, Smilla knows that something is terribly wrong. You see, Isaiah was scared of heights. She goes to the snow-covered roof to investigate, to see for herself. The police rebuff her, but to Smilla the evidence is clear. Isaiah was not playing on the roof. He was running from something, something so terrible that he ran right off the edge. She can tell from his tracks in the snow.

Near the end of the story, the plot gets a little crazy, and Siskel and Ebert had noted the crazy plot. But all I remembered from their review was snow and intrigue, a romantic image inspired by the cinematography. Directed by Bille August, indeed the film shines as art in its own right, even without a plot. Still, years after having watched the movie, reflecting back, all I remembered of it were the characters. Now, watching it again recently, I realized that it was the crazy plot itself that made these characters real.

Actually, the plot is not all that bad. Smilla’s Sense of Snow is a sci-fi flick wrapped up in an Hitchcockian thriller. The plot is full of twists and turns. And it all makes sense… if you accept the ending. Whether you do or not, however, Smilla accepts that ending, and that’s why, to echo Roger Ebert, “The plot is totally absurd, and I didn’t care that it was!” Actually, Smilla may or may not accept the ending. She may or may not even care. By the time the ending comes, she has invested so much of herself in her quest to find out who killed Isaiah, the screwy plot only serves to highlight her commitment to this passion.

The film makes exceptional use of strong language. Early on, Smilla says, “I’m sorry I’ve given you the impression it’s my mouth that’s rough. I try to be rough all over.” It’s rated R for strong language, some violence, and a sex scene. But none of it is superfluous. It all just serves to heighten the powerful mood.

Smilla’s Sense of Snow is not mainstream, as it sports neither the massive, glitzy, overdone special effects nor the shallowness of the ’90′s sci-fi movie. But watching it was an extremely enjoyable experience for me, one that I have repeated numerous times and will repeat in the future.

Smilla’s Sense of Snow
Rating: R (Restricted)
Theatrical release: 1997
DVD Release: May 21, 2002
Run Time: 121 minutes

Note also:

• Siskel and Ebert’s 1997 review
• IMDb page

When Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on TV, I resisted watching it, over my friends’ recommendations. I just couldn’t get over the name. I mean, Buffy? How gay is that? I’m not going to watch some show called “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” no matter how good people say it is. I was younger then. Or at least more immature.

(This was all before I started watching Gilmore Girls, by the way.)

My first exposure to Joss Whedon’s work was with Firefly on DVD, then the movie Serenity. Now I know I need to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, no matter how silly that title sounds.

Recently, I got the first two volumes in the Astonishing X-Men series of graphic novels, Volume 1: Gifted and Volume 2: Dangerous. That these stories were authored by Joss Whedon was a big selling point for me.

Each volume includes 6 issues of the Astonishing X-Men comic book series. So, Volume 1 includes issues 1-6, and Volume 2 includes issues 7-12. Presumably, more volumes will be forthcoming as the series progresses. (Individual issues can be bought from Marvel Comics.)

I should add that John Cassaday’s artwork is a fine match to Joss Whedon’s storytelling. Very cool.

The reason I love the X-Men—and this is personal taste, I know—is that they are outlaw superheroes, like the Serenity crew. The X-Men are suspected and distrusted. And they sometimes make mistakes, but that’s not why they’re suspected and distrusted. People distrust the X-Men, because they’re mutants. But what really resonates with me is that no one controls the X-Men. They answer to a higher authority than any Earthly one. They answer to a higher morality. They fight for the right, no matter what anyone else says, and they have a developed sense of justice, which cannot be controlled by the mob mentality of popular opinion. Ironically, this is possible because they are outcasts, and it makes them even further outcast.

(I know I’m going all literary-analysis on you. Please forgive me.)

The X-Men cater to my sense of justice and my sense of civilization. For example, in Dangerous, after working with the Fantastic 4 to save the world from a terrible monster, they get a mere 30 seconds coverage on the local news.

Logan says, “I got a C-note says our epic battle doesn’t even make the nationals.”

Scott replies, “The news isn’t there to tell you what happened. It’s there to tell you what it wants you to hear, or what it thinks you want to hear. They already have their stories worked out. They just wait for events to fill in the blanks. When they don’t fit, they get sidelined or twisted till they do. ‘The mutant menace’ is the story. Always has been.”

You may call me cynical, but remember, a cynic is what an idealist calls a realist.

Later in the same story, Xavier himself uses the classic excuse, that yes, he himself oppressed another life, but he had no choice. He needed to perpetrate it, for the greater good of mutant-kind.

Scott skewers him. “What does it hurt? The oppression of a new life form… You figure we’ve taken enough from the sapiens, why not dish it out?”

“You know it’s not that simple,” Xavier replies.

“You’re the man that taught me that it was.”

-TimK

Astonishing X-Men Vol. 1: Gifted
Paperback: 152 pages
Publisher: Marvel Comics (December 29, 2004)
ISBN: 0785115315

Astonishing X-Men Vol. 2: Dangerous
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Marvel Comics (November 9, 2005)
ISBN: 078511677X

Genius equals talent plus skill. You may be a talented writer, but without writing skills, your writing will be haphazard at best. I remember in high school, I wrote a piece about my favorite teacher of all time. My English teacher at the time liked it so much, he put it on the front page of the class newsletter. It would be years before I wrote something that good again. It was a fluke, an accident. I needed to improve my writing skills.

So when we see that Ender has certain mental and physical talents of strategy and tactics. Even his thought and speech patterns are those of a thoughtful leader, not an impulsive little boy. We believe there are great things he may be able to do. But we don’t believe he can do them immediately. First he must develop his skills and his body. It would be amazing if Ender, even with his superhuman talents, would be able to accomplish anything significant before he’s 20.

So Ender goes through an arduous training program. The deck is stacked against him. There is an imminent risk that he will fail, or even die. The stakes are high, but so is the payoff. As he faces each new challenge and overcomes it, his skills develop, piece by piece. By the end, we fully believe that this boy, now 7, is already a great military leader. And even then, Ender’s coaches stack the deck in his favor, in order to sidestep his weaknesses.

The Phantom Menace, on the other hand, introduces us to Anakin Skywalker, who talks like a kid, walks like a kid, and thinks like a kid. I don’t even remember how we found out that the force was so strong with him. Somehow, he wins a pod race and saves the day, in a racer that had never been tested, without so much as even successfully completing the course. All he gets is a brief word from Qui-Gon Jinn, “Remember to use your feelings.” Okay.

I’m sure this all is supposed heighten the tension, but it achieves the opposite. We believe this all is contrived, and we believe it’s been inserted to improve sales of video games and toy pod racers and action figures.

If George Lucas had demonstrated to us Anakin’s talents, maybe by having him know the future. Then if we had seen him in training, learning how to use his talents to improve his racing. If we had seen him exult the first time he made it through the course. Think Chariots of Fire. Then we would believe in his ability to win, even though the odds are still stacked against him, and we would’ve been emotionally involved with him in the race. He would have become a hero rather than a mockery.

-TimK

A review of Because of Winn-Dixie, the film directed by Wayne Wang, based on the novel by Kate DiCamillo.

This is a touching portrait of a little girl’s heart. It’s a film I rented and watched, and then felt I had to watch again. And then I felt like I needed my own copy of the DVD, and like I needed to get a copy of the novel, too.

In Because of Winn-Dixie, young AnnaSophia Robb gives a stellar performance as Opal, a 10-year-old girl, daughter of the local preacher, who just moved to a new town, because preachers move. More so even than most kids in a brand new place, Opal is lonely. Not only is she new, but she’s also ostracized because she’s the preacher’s kid.

This is the case until she meets a stray dog that somehow got into the local Winn-Dixie supermarket. In a fit of heroism, she rescues this dog from the pound by claiming he’s her dog. She names him Winn-Dixie, after the supermarket, and he becomes her only and best friend, even though there’s no way she could possibly keep him. But she convinces her father to let her keep the dog until they can find a new home for him.

But that’s not going to happen, partially because of Opal. In the meantime, we learn that Winn-Dixie has an uncanny knack for making friends. A touching transformation occurs in Opal and in everyone she touches, all because of Winn-Dixie.

Released in 2005, Because of Winn-Dixie is apparently intended for older children, but I consider it suitable for all ages, from the very young to the very old. It’s rated PG for thematic elements and brief mild language, but I detected nothing objectionable, and I had no qualms about letting my 7-year-old daughter watch the film.

Being a character-driven story, the quality of the characters are very important, and Because of Winn-Dixie does a fine job. The story features a cast of charming characters in touching and sometimes all-too-realistic conflicts. The character changes that occurred were all convincing, and there were no magical character transformations just to push the plot forward. Bravo!

There was only one weak point: the character of the local policeman. His character was distorted, apparently for cheap comedic effect, like Barney Fife but on heroin. Since this aspect of the character added nothing to the story, and since it contradicted his role as a lawman, it came off as mixing the ridiculous with the sublime.

That last phrase “mixing the ridiculous with the sublime” I got from my father, who was himself a preacher when I was 10. I may have identified more strongly with Opal because of my own experiences as a P.K., as this movie presents an incredibly realistic perspective on thorny issues that preachers and their families face, that we as parishoners don’t usually even realize exist.

Because of Winn-Dixie is available at Amazon.com.

For Valentine’s week, I’m looking at one of the best loved romantic movies of all time. No, not Casablanca, though that is one of the best loved romantic movies of all time. Go back about another decade, to 1931, to the time of Charlie Chaplin. His films enraptured me as a boy. Even today, as I watched City Lights with my family, it mesmerized my daughters, seeing it for the first time. And all the good feelings came back to me, classic scene after classic scene, the classic soundtrack sounding half from the TV, half in my memory. The comedy still makes me laugh, and the drama still moves me.

Charlie Chaplin’s City Lights is a feature-length silent film, one of the last of the great actor, writer, and director. We meet our hero, the little tramp, having spent the night sleeping on a statue. This is his life, a life he’s taken on by choice. He falls in love with a blind flower girl. When she mistakenly gets the impression that he’s rich, he falls back to admiring her from afar. But when he then heroically saves a drunk millionaire from committing suicide, the millionaire pledges his eternal gratitude and friendship. He dresses his friend in the best clothes, takes him to the best restaurant, lets him drive the motorcar, and gives him money, which he uses to help and impress the girl.

Chaplin makes great comedy out of this pauper turned prince in one hillarious shot. He jumps from the car, back then only afforded by the wealthy. He pushes over a poor sod picking up a used cigar butt, grabs the butt in order to smoke it himself, then still wearing his tuxedo, gets back in the car and drives off.

However, he is in love with this girl, and she with him. But he must play the part of a wealthy man, even when the millionaire takes off for a European trip. So he gets a job. One day, he reads about an operation that could cure the girls blindness, and he discovers her rent is overdue. She’s going to lose her home. He promises to take care of it. But then he loses his job. No money, no job, no millionaire. And then the story really gets interesting.

This movie ends with one of the most touching, dramatic scenes ever filmed. None of the characters have names, but they still tugged at my heartstrings.

So, I’m watching March of the Penguins, and I’m thinking, You know, this is cool video footage and all. But this would make a much better story if they followed the journey of one penguin couple, Fred and Freda, as they meet and raise a family. Then, quite by accident, I found an article on Mary Lynn Mercer’s site that essentially said the same thing. I love it when that happens. It makes me think I’m not so crazy after all.

I’ve seen beginning writers make this same mistake, and I myself may have made it in some far-off repressed memory. If I looked back through my archives, I can probably find an instance of it. The error comes in thinking that a story is more poignant if you talk about hundreds or thousands of people. If California fell into the Pacific Ocean, killing thousands, that would be tragic. It would be sensational. But it would not be poignant.

Thousands of people is just a statistic. If you want to drive the point home, to make us care what happens to those people, tell us the story of one of them. Give us a protagonist we can identify with. Then lead us through his journey. That will make us care.

This is the problem with March of the Penguins. We see the struggle, the danger and death, the pain and loss, but we don’t experience it, because we have no protagonist, no hero, no one to root for. If you want to write stories that matter, talk about one person, not hundreds.

-TimK

Whatever happened to Zorro? I think I may have seen him on a spaceship, a Firefly-class cargo vessel called Serenity. And there was even an episode with a swordfight!

Zorro was not just a guy with a cape and a mask. Zorro was the great righter of wrongs, the prototypical American hero, he who fights for the poor and downtrodden, those too weak to fight for themselves, against those who have power and aren’t afraid to abuse it.

Firefly is both a space opera and a western, and it has a spiritual side, too. And it includes the essences of our favorite heroes, from the A-Team to Zorro and everyone inbetween. Originally marketed as a sci-fi comedy, Firefly does have some funny moments, but really it is a serial drama in the spirit of Babylon 5, with a deep, engaging, complex storyline and a whole heck of a lot of character.

It tells the story of nine people trying to live their lives, just trying to make ends meet, trying to do the right thing and stay out of trouble in the process. This is one of those few series in which it is difficult to pick the best episodes, because every one is a classic.

To get the most from the story, watch the episodes in the correct story order, which unfortunately was not the order in which the episodes were originally aired. (Also note that the Firefly DVD set includes all 14 episodes, not just the 12 that made it to TV.)

Despite its short run and premature cancellation, Joss Whedon created in Firefly the very definition of enthralling and engrossing. Firefly was one of the most innovative series of 2002, for its writing, its cinematography, its soundtrack, even its vibrant and diverse setting that crosses cultural boundaries.

A major story throughout Firefly is that of River, a 17-year-old girl involunarily subjected to invasive brain surgery by an autocratic government, leaving her emotionally disturbed yet with mental powers unknown to Serenity’s crew. The 2005 movie Serenity, recently released on DVD, continues her story.

In Serenity, River faces her new powers and seeks the cause of her dimentia. In the process, the Serenity crew must face the most horrifying supervillian yet.

Serenity does not capture all the charm of the original series. It’s primarily a scifi-action thriller, with so much ongoing intensity, there’s not enough time to take a breath and appreciate the character interactions. But there is enough depth there to make rewatching Serenity worthwhile, especially in the light of the Firefly episodes.

At a few points, the plot did become a wee bit James Bond. I mean if you actually intended to kill the villian, you should’ve blown his head off. If you didn’t blow his head off, you should not be surprised that as soon as you turn your back, he’s on you like a reaver.

It’s also a little unclear who the real hero of Serenity is, but I guess the story is strong enough to support two heroes.

Already cult classics, Firefly and Serenity have enough in them to appeal to a diverse audience.

A comic book called Serenity, currently in print, bridges the gap in story from Firefly (the series) to Serenity (the movie).

The Sci-Fi Channel will be running an all-day marathon of the first 12 Firefly episodes in the correct story order. It’s on Friday, January 6, 2006, at 8 A.M. See http://www.scifi.com/firefly/ for more information.

BTW, Here’s the Serenity trailer:

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, despite its flaws, is well worth watching. Chances are, you’ll either love it or hate it. If you love it, it’s probably because the movie makes you cry, and each time you watch it, you cry even more. And if you hate it, that’s probably because the movie makes you cry, and each time you watch it, you cry even more. Or to paraphrase the movie poster: You’ll laugh; you’ll cry; you’ll share the pants.

Note: This episode has minor spoilers. I don’t believe these spoilers give away anything that wasn’t obvious from the beginning, and I don’t believe they make the film less effective or enjoyable. Even so, if you care about such things…

The movie, based on Ann Brashares best-selling novel of the same name, is about four 16-year-old girls, inseperable almost before they were born, now spending their first summer apart. Browsing through a thrift store, they discover a pair of jeans that magically fits all four girls perfectly. They make a pact to share the pants during the summer. Each girl will get the pants for one week then send it overnight to the next, along with a letter detailing all that happened to her while she had the pants.

This is an analysis, not a review of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, as there are many reviews already available. Here are some reviews that I think are worth reading:

• Dustin Putman, themovieboy.com
• Scott “Kubryk” Sawitz, InsidePulse Review
• Cynthia Fuchs, PopMatters
• Joe Rickey, Movie Gurus
• Mike McGranaghan, The Aisle Seat

Note that many reviewers didn’t get it. This is the third prong in the “love it, hate it, ignore it” trinity. Welcome, Tim Taylor fan-boys, I guess. Some concentrated on the settings, such as in Lena’s trip to Greece; or on the fact that the story is targeted to highschool girls, making it okay for men not to get it or like it (insert grunting noises here); or the plot, even though this is a character-driven story. One reviewer even went so far as to paint the story endings as Deus Ex Machina, enumerating each story resolution, and getting every single one wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong. The conflicts are inside each character and are resolved inside each character, who then acts to bring about external change. If you look only for the external changes, you will indeed miss the causes of these changes, which result from changes first occuring inside each character.

How many minutes per viewpoint?

The biggest problem with The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants is that there are too many viewpoint characters, or too few feet of film. As a result, important points got glossed over. The introduction fails to establish the characters and their relationship, even though that’s what it tries to do. The 4 story arcs, each driven from a different viewpoint character, don’t get the depth that such stories require. Bridget’s story gets short shrift all around.

The introduction tries to establish the characters and their relationship with four scenes in four minutes. This is too few and too fast in order to provoke substantial character sympathy. One key introductory scene, that of Bridget’s mother’s funeral and of Bridget’s reaction to her mother’s suicide, I didn’t even understand until I had seen until the fourth viewing. As a result, I couldn’t understand Bridget’s character or her conflict until then.

The profundity of the pants

The pants establish a pattern between the four different stories. In each one, the pants appear twice: the first time to establish the conflict, and the second time to resolve it.

In each story, when the girl gets the pants the first time, something happens that challenges her. This she sees as negative, and she discounts the magic of the pants. Still, the challenge has been made, the story has been set in motion, and the conflict continues to escalate, until the pants return to that girl. At that point, she changes something inside herself, resolving the conflict.

Using character reaction to drive audience reaction

Orson Scott Card wrote, “If your characters cry, your readers won’t have to; if characters have a good reason to cry and they don’t, the reader will.”

But in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, the characters cry, and we cry right along with them.

Perhaps we can understand why by comparing what H.P. Lovecraft wrote in his essay “Notes On Writing Weird Fiction”:

Inconceivable events and conditions have a special handicap to over come, and this can be accomplished only through the maintenance of a careful realism in every phase of the story except that touching on the one given marvel. This marvel must be treated very impressively and deliberately — with a careful emotional “build-up” — else it will seem flat and unconvincing. Being the principal thing in the story, its mere existence should overshadow the characters and events. But the characters and events must be consistent and natural except where they touch the single marvel. In relation to the central wonder, the characters should shew the same overwhelming emotion which similar characters would shew toward such a wonder in real life. Never have a wonder taken for granted. Even when the characters are supposed to be accustomed to the wonder I try to weave an air of awe and impressiveness corresponding to what the reader should feel.

Each girl is a deep, sympathetic character. As the emotional pressure builds, we empathize with her. We identify so thoroughly with the character that when the character responds, we respond. When the character cries, we cry right along with her. We can’t help ourselves. Repeated in each of the four stories, watching The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants is like getting shot with an emotional machine-gun.

BTW, Here’s the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants trailer: