My husband, John, and I spent the weekend in Gatlinburg, Tenn. We took a break, planned and looked into the mountains.
Gatlinburg is a twin sister to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina except it is in the Great Smoky Mountains. From our window, we looked at peaks disappearing into blue-gray clouds. It made me think of a quote from Forrest Gump.
John said, “A lot of people want to look out their window and see water brushing the sand. How could the beach compare to this view?”
Raised in S.C., Mom and Dad took my brother and me to Myrtle Beach.
When I lived one hour from the Blue Ridge Mountains, I fell in love. Maybe it was something new and different. Maybe I needed a close look at how the red ravines carved out gray trees kissed by a light blue to realize just how nature inspires.
That said, last week When We Write Letters series ended. No worries. Writing also changes. Here is the schedule in the upcoming weeks.
Sunday: Living the Reading Life or Meet the Writer
Television broadcasters and movie reviewers recently commented on the length of movies released during the holiday season.
During the time of Old Hollywood, movies like Gone with the Wind and Sound of Music featured an intermission. The audience had a short break.
Beginning in the 1980s, movies lost something. They lost minutes. They lost audiences, and audiences lost patience for a story to get to the point.
In the age of iMedia, instant gratification destroys good story lines for a lesser plot.
But, all is not lost.
Movies like Les Misérables, Anna Karenina and The Hobbit return to the tradition of epic storytelling.
I saw Les Misérables—the long running musical that originated in the 1980s and based on Victor Hugo’s book. I attended the play in London and twice in Columbia, South Carolina. I watched the tenth anniversary VHS, and 2012′s twenty-fifth anniversary.
I learned the lines to the songs, and cried with my grandmother through every rendition. I had high expectations when my husband took me to see the film.
Fireworks shot through the height of my expectations. I cried, I laughed and held on to every song and line. Director Tom Hooper (The King’s Speech) did not stray far from the musical’s story line. The movie allowed me to see parts of the story that were difficult to picture when watching the play.
For example, I was impressed with the building of the barricade, and the tension when the students prepare for battle and then face the decision to fight without the backing of the people.
Hooper focuses in on the actor and actress’ faces to make you feel as if you are in France. The singing is softer than in the play, but the actors are not in front of a large audience. When the factory women corner Fantine (Anne Hathaway), they almost whisper sing. The way they sing the lines, you believe in their hate and gossip.
Hathaway’s performance will break your heart.
I also enjoyed Hugh Jackman and Samantha Barks, who also sang as Eponine in the twenty-fifth anniversary concert.
Eddie Redmayne‘s performance made Marius a man and believable. I have never seen a Marius with whom I was impressed, except for Michael Ball. Too often Marius is portrayed as too soft and weakened by instantly falling in love. It’s almost as if the Revolution is no longer important to him. While he questions his role in the Revolution in the lyrics, he is still—for lack of a better word—weaker.
Eddie Redmayne took the movie home. He picked up where Hathaway left off in the supporting cast. His rendition of Empty Chairs at Empty Tables makes you feel like you’ve lost your best friends in battle or another tragedy.
Orphan Annie thought going to the movies was beyond her wildest dreams.
During the Great Depression, the time in which Annie takes place, movies offered escapism.
I can count on one finger how many times I’ve attended the movie theatre this year due to the economy. But, I have not missed a movie education.
In fact, I have gained an extended education in writing.
TCM—Turner Classic Movies—features crime author Lee Child as its December guest programmer. He will talk with host Robert Osborne about the movies that inspired his writing.
While I have not read Child’s books, I thought it was a great idea to interview an author about the movies he believed told the best stories.
What inspires writers is great storytelling. When a movie is constructed with a well-written script, delivered by strong acting and cameras, I am inspired.
Ladies of Leisure, one of Frank Capra and Barbara Stanwyck’s earliest movies, made my remote control stop on TCM. For what reason did I stop? Was it Barbara Stanwyck’s character rowing in a fancy dress away from a boat party? She did not care to tie off the row boat when she got off.
She stars as a party woman who lives off men’s money in the 1920′s. Aside from my strong interest in the decade, I was enraptured by the writing and lines. In the scene when she she stays the night at Ralph Graves‘ studio because they’ve worked late, the rain runs down the window as she takes off her shirt. You see the blur of her back.
You feel the romance and edge Capra wanted audiences to see. Keep in mind, this was pre-Hollywood code days.
Later, the turn of the door knob captivates your attention. It is slow and intense. Ralph Graves comes in and Barbara’s character pretends to sleep. He puts another blanket over her.
The emotion in her face the next morning when she realizes just how much in love she is with Ralph Graves cannot be repeated by another actress. It is intense and yet real. In such an early picture, fancy words weren’t thrown in. Love often comes without the right words.
People dig inside themselves for what they should say.
Marie Prevost’s performance as Stanwyck’s roommate stole the show. She made me laugh in every scene. Jo Swerling translated the original Broadway script from a complete melodrama to a movie with some humor.
I admit I stopped watching near the end because the melodrama between Ralph Grave’s mother, in the movie, and Barbara Stanwyck drove me crazy. Once Marie was out of the movie, I lost interest. There was too much crying for no reason.
Maybe writing from two boys’ point-of-view for 6-and-a-half years has caused me to turn my head away from tears and despair. But, it has taught me appreciate a good fight scene.
Robert Taylor starred as a formerly wealthy man who comes into a Maryland town that looks like the Wild West. Stage coach is trying to compete with the railroad. The stage coach manager in town hides the fact men kidnap runaway slaves to take them back below Maryland. Robert Taylor stands up to the manager, played by Wallace Beery.
The fight scene in the snow between Taylor and Beery stands out. You could see an active fight. It was not like some modern films in which the bloody fight is done within the ten seconds. No, this was a brawl.
The formula was simple. Two tough men fought in pouring snow until they were worn out. All the other men who had chased after Taylor were dead. Horses were shot or had run off.
Two men, weary of fists, must travel twenty miles back to the town in the snow during the night. The film does not rush the walk. Why? They have been shooting, fighting, and then Taylor and Beery must fight for their lives against the weather.
Beery collapses first. You think, “Get up.” Taylor gets him up.
A few minutes later, when Taylor collapses, he can’t get up. He won’t get up. Beery collapses. The snow begins to cover their bodies.
