and on Sunday, she rested.
Dec. 23rd, 2007 10:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lauraanne_gilmanI did not, alas, proof my author set for FREE FALL today. Instead, I went to see "Enchanted," which I have been looking forward to since I saw the early previews months ago. A totally sweet movie, and I say that, for once, without any sarcasm whatsoever. I had expected more sophisticated humor, considering it's set in NYC, but no, this is just...sweet. Lovely, even. And sweetly funny. It's the story of a Disney princess (literally) sent by the evil stepmother-Queen to a land where "there are no happy endings" (aka Manhattan). But of course, everyone (except the evil stepmother) has a happy ever after. And along the way you can feel your heart grow several sizes larger. Call this the anti-Grinch movie, and go see it, if only to count the number of movies (from "Beauty and the Beast" to "King Kong") this movie makes gentle love to. The only thing I wasn't crazy about was the actress playing the young daughter, but she was adorable so we'll cut her some slack.
What amused me most of all, however, was where and why my suspension of disbelief failed. I was okay with the singing and dancing production in Central Park. I was okay with Pip the chipmunk surviving more than five minutes, and the idea that sewer rats would be good maids. I was okay with the NYC lawyer taking this strange woman home (and kudos to Dempsey for totally selling the concerned-dad-trying-his-best routine, because he was wonderful). But at the ball, when we're expected to believe that all of these New Yorkers could do an elaborate courtly dance, without lessons, without knocking into each other? So totally not buying it. It reminded me of the moment in Moulon Rouge when the leads are singing to each other from opposite ends of the theater, and my brain went "but...his voice wouldn't carry from the back of the theater!" And everyone viewing with me turned and Looked and said "NOW you have problems with believability?" Well, yes. Sorry. Some things I accept. Some things I can't. Deal with it.
Came home and had a lovely dinner, plotting elements of Project Whoosh! with C. And, after scaring the crap out of their loyal fans, the Giants clinch a wildcard spot in the playoffs. Yay! [it's not like we have a shot at the Superbowl, but at least they won't be playing golf too damn early...]
And now I am going to continue the theme of total non-work, and go to bed early. Wow.
What amused me most of all, however, was where and why my suspension of disbelief failed. I was okay with the singing and dancing production in Central Park. I was okay with Pip the chipmunk surviving more than five minutes, and the idea that sewer rats would be good maids. I was okay with the NYC lawyer taking this strange woman home (and kudos to Dempsey for totally selling the concerned-dad-trying-his-best routine, because he was wonderful). But at the ball, when we're expected to believe that all of these New Yorkers could do an elaborate courtly dance, without lessons, without knocking into each other? So totally not buying it. It reminded me of the moment in Moulon Rouge when the leads are singing to each other from opposite ends of the theater, and my brain went "but...his voice wouldn't carry from the back of the theater!" And everyone viewing with me turned and Looked and said "NOW you have problems with believability?" Well, yes. Sorry. Some things I accept. Some things I can't. Deal with it.
Came home and had a lovely dinner, plotting elements of Project Whoosh! with C. And, after scaring the crap out of their loyal fans, the Giants clinch a wildcard spot in the playoffs. Yay! [it's not like we have a shot at the Superbowl, but at least they won't be playing golf too damn early...]
And now I am going to continue the theme of total non-work, and go to bed early. Wow.
