ireactions (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ireactions) wrote,@ 2008-12-31 14:18:00 |
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fantasy life
I have a friend who is obsessed with the Edward Cullen character from Twilight. (I realize that, since a list of all my friends fits on a 1 x 2 Post-It, this immediately identifies the party in question, but I'm sure she won't mind.) She explained her romantic inclinations for the character, her wish to receive that sort of attention and commitment, and her fondness for Robert Pattinson's hair. As I myself have a tenuous grasp on reality, I found this intriguing. I rarely see fictional characters in this light.
I like Dawson's Creek a lot, but I find I appreciate it in the sense of observing the screenwriting techniques, which are fully explained in the commentaries. The writers explain the deliberate rhythm of conversations, the juxtaposition of dialogue and onscreen action to convey the relationships, the scene-by-scene progress of each individual episode. Examples include every first-season episode opening with a teaser where Joey and Dawson discuss a film that obliquely relates to the theme of the episode. Or the Halloween episode where Joey spends the entire episode in a state of perpetual fright due to Dawson's shock-tactic pranks, everyone labelling her a bit of a coward. Only, when a home invader smashes his way into Dawson's house, everyone else runs and hides while Joey has her moment of fear, gets past it, and then proceeds to beat the intruder half-to-death with a cast iron pan. I admire this the way I appreciate a well-designed tea cup. Yet, to listen to fellow fans, the decline of the show has to do with which characters dated whom behind whose back, as opposed to the reality of incompetent script editing.
I like Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist a lot, but I'm not in love with Norah. I'm merely enjoying the emotional response to moments like Norah shyly propositioning Nick for a kiss. Or when Kat Dennings finds precisely the right note of concern and whimsy for a line like, "If you harm one hair on her head, I will kill all of you!" Norah is not some ideal figure of feminine perfection. If such a person existed, she wouldn't be Norah. These people are make-believe. There is a lot of make-up, lighting, rehearsal and contractual obligation to get them on the screen.
I like House as an effective procedural drama the way I like the design of the Chrysler Building. I love the Iron Man film like an adorable teddy bear. But it's not real. It's crafted artifice, to be observed, and, if well-done, enjoyed. Which leaves me hopelessly ill-equipped to deal with pub conversations where I'm told things like, "You don't like the tenth Doctor and Rose's relationship because you don't appreciate the hard work and pain it takes to make relationships work." Or, "I wish Edward Cullen would watch me sleeping." I don't hold it against anyone, of course, but I'm starting to suspect that my active fantasy life is quite healthy compared to some of the competition.
I have a friend who is obsessed with the Edward Cullen character from Twilight. (I realize that, since a list of all my friends fits on a 1 x 2 Post-It, this immediately identifies the party in question, but I'm sure she won't mind.) She explained her romantic inclinations for the character, her wish to receive that sort of attention and commitment, and her fondness for Robert Pattinson's hair. As I myself have a tenuous grasp on reality, I found this intriguing. I rarely see fictional characters in this light.
I like Dawson's Creek a lot, but I find I appreciate it in the sense of observing the screenwriting techniques, which are fully explained in the commentaries. The writers explain the deliberate rhythm of conversations, the juxtaposition of dialogue and onscreen action to convey the relationships, the scene-by-scene progress of each individual episode. Examples include every first-season episode opening with a teaser where Joey and Dawson discuss a film that obliquely relates to the theme of the episode. Or the Halloween episode where Joey spends the entire episode in a state of perpetual fright due to Dawson's shock-tactic pranks, everyone labelling her a bit of a coward. Only, when a home invader smashes his way into Dawson's house, everyone else runs and hides while Joey has her moment of fear, gets past it, and then proceeds to beat the intruder half-to-death with a cast iron pan. I admire this the way I appreciate a well-designed tea cup. Yet, to listen to fellow fans, the decline of the show has to do with which characters dated whom behind whose back, as opposed to the reality of incompetent script editing.
I like Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist a lot, but I'm not in love with Norah. I'm merely enjoying the emotional response to moments like Norah shyly propositioning Nick for a kiss. Or when Kat Dennings finds precisely the right note of concern and whimsy for a line like, "If you harm one hair on her head, I will kill all of you!" Norah is not some ideal figure of feminine perfection. If such a person existed, she wouldn't be Norah. These people are make-believe. There is a lot of make-up, lighting, rehearsal and contractual obligation to get them on the screen.
I like House as an effective procedural drama the way I like the design of the Chrysler Building. I love the Iron Man film like an adorable teddy bear. But it's not real. It's crafted artifice, to be observed, and, if well-done, enjoyed. Which leaves me hopelessly ill-equipped to deal with pub conversations where I'm told things like, "You don't like the tenth Doctor and Rose's relationship because you don't appreciate the hard work and pain it takes to make relationships work." Or, "I wish Edward Cullen would watch me sleeping." I don't hold it against anyone, of course, but I'm starting to suspect that my active fantasy life is quite healthy compared to some of the competition.
