Dear Moulin Rouge,

You are a wack ass movie. And, mildly seizure-inducing. Also, my critical deconstruction and introductory feminist film analysis make you a troublesome piece of cinema. (Really, you are troublesome regardless of that. The jump cuts make me a little dizzy.).

That said: EWAN MCGREGOR.


love,
hannah

Dear last (Rocky Horror) Picture Show,

It may only be four years old, but there is a tradition of screening Rocky Horror the night before classes start.  A final hurrah before the semester begins.  The only problem with this is that by the time we get to the pool in Rocky Horror I am ready for bed and wanting to get ready for the next day.

That said, I thought I would blog a bit before I embark on my last first day of school.  It's gonna be a crazy one.  Sadly, the outfit that I had planned for tomorrow (inspired by Tammi Taylor ya'll!) can't happen tomorrow as I must be on a bike.  That means we will have a skirty Thursday ya'll!

Alright, that's it.  I'm going to bed.  I've got to pull myself together for tomorrow. 


love,
hannah

Dear One Day,

WARNING: Major SPOILERS ahead for One Day (both the book and the movie.)

You've been warned.  I'm gonna spoil everything.  Every last detail. 


Last summer I read One Day by David Nicholls, and I was really excited.  I searched the book down, at one point I even found that there was a preview of the book on the Barnes and Noble website and briefly contemplated reading the entire book in tiny barely legible font on my laptop because I wanted to read it so badly.  Thankfully, my mother bought a copy for me and I was able to read the book like a normal person. 

I really enjoyed it.  I loved the device of seeing them every July 15 even though it was totally improbable.  And then comes the ending.  She gets hit while riding her bike? Are you fucking kidding with me? I think I sobbed and sat on the couch and read the rest of the book straight through because if I had put it down I would have been too angry to ever pick it up again.  So, overall I like the book, but anyone who has read it will tell you that it has a shit ending. 

Immediately, I thought: What an interesting movie this would make! Not even a month later I find that it is going to be a movie, with Anne Hathaway.  And then, a year in a advance, I make plans to go see this movie with a friend. 

Today we went to go see the movie.  (I knew it wasn't going to be great, the trailer made sure of that.  Also: Anne Hathaway's accent?) And I was really curious whether they would change the ending.  Traditionally that would be book-to-movie-adaptation sacrilege, but here I thought I would find it a welcome change (as would other readers). 

Well friends, they do not change the ending.  And not only do they not change the ending, they make it the most jarring, gasp-inducing, cringe-worthy car crash.  And then they fade out with a shot of Anne Hathaway on the ground, with only one shoe and a bloody foot.  Oy. 

The general consensus among my crowd (four readers, one who knew the ending, and two who had no clue what they were getting themselves into) all agreed that the crash was too much.  My suggestion? (Also, my brother's) All you need to do is cut to black with the sound of the crash, then when you cut the tragic shot of him laying in bed crying, we all can know exactly what happened. 

See? I should be making movies. 

(Apparently, when I write long posts, I use lots of parentheses.  Strange.)


love,
hannah

Dear catharsis,

Since my internship includes reading theory about critical pedagogy and theater as a tool for social change, our work started with reading about the power of empathy.  In Augusto Boal's discussion of empathy he debates how empathy is a powerful way to connect oneself to others while catharsis (the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions) often releases an audience from their connection to the characters, and sometimes the other audience members.  He says that catharsis is dangerous because the connection created through empathy is so strong, but the cathartic release at the end of being a spectator destroys that connection, leaving the spectator with the feeling that they are no longer bound by their empathy.  The audience leaves feeling that the story is completely finished and that they are no longer compelled to take action.  Clearly, not the action desired when one tries to use art as a tool for change.

I have struggled with Boal's critique of empathy and catharsis in the last two weeks.  As a storyteller I want to create strong empathic connections and release those emotions through my story, but as an activist I understand that this doesn't lead audiences to a desire to take action.  Understanding the balance between those two things in my own work/life has been puzzling.

Today as I left Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part Two, I tried to explain to my friends that I couldn't quite feel anything.  I couldn't understand what was happening to me.  All I could understand as I walked out of the theater was that it was the most complete experience of catharsis I had ever felt.  After fourteen years of emotional exposition, I sat, sobbing in the theater for a half an hour.  I could hear fellow audience members sniffling and taking in deep breaths.  When the credits began to roll I felt so drained, so empty I wasn't sure what to do.  It felt so final.  Perhaps it was not totally a cathartic experience because I will carry some shred of it forever, but still... I was not yet ready to process the world around me.

I wondered what Boal would have to say about that.

Also, I thought the "Not my daughter, you bitch" was surprisingly understated in the movie. 


love,
hannah

Dear Hermione Granger(s),

First off, to update you on the last ten days of my life: the Minnesota government shutdown should end soon, I am not yet friends with 7 am, and I am very tired. 

On July 22, 2007 I posted this on Facebook:

There are no more answers

And so, it ends. I was not devastated, I did cry, I am content. Harry Potter was, I think, just what I wanted it to be. Thankfully, my childhood is not decisively over, and I can still appreciate the last ten years. 

 Today, I write this as friends wait in line for the final film's premiere at midnight.  I am at home, getting ready for bed because I must be up again at 7 am tomorrow to get to work, because now  my childhood (pretty much) decisively over.  (I just paid my first energy bill, yeehaw!)  Although I want to be there to experience the premiere in all its glory, I have to be awake and alert at work tomorrow, providing an example for the 13-18 years olds I work with, some of whom will have gone to the premiere tonight.  

There have been many articles posted on Facebook about the premiere, one with the headline "Final Harry Potter film is a rite of passage for fans" while another questioned the potential legacy of the series.  Those who doubt the legacy and longevity of the series must be kidding themselves.  They have never been present for the conversations in which my friends and I have discussed how we are going to introduce the Harry Potter series to our own children, how we will try to recreate the phenomenal experience of aging at the same pace as Harry.  There have even been discussions of book groups where the parents will agree to introduce each book to their children at the same pace, but this plan doesn't account for the stupid kid in sixth grade who will spoil major deaths or some other critical detail.  None of our plans can recreate the experience we have had, to age with Harry Potter is a one time deal, only guaranteed to those around my age (born in the years surrounding 1990).  Of course Pottermore is an interesting experiment in the virtual possibilities of the books, but fan fiction surely has taken us down many paths. 

Indeed, our connection to Harry Potter is a singular experience of my generation.  As our experience comes to an end I am devastated, I will cry, I am content.  It is hard to still be connected with my childhood while I am counting down the days until my twenty-first birthday.  My Potter fervor and nostalgia is often accompanied by the release of a new book, film, and maybe a website, but there is one thing that never fades: My eternal gratefulness for Hermione Granger.  

Hermione Granger is the best thing to happen to nerdy girls across the globe.  Almost every one of my friends (past and present, male and female) identifies with Hermione.  Hermione Granger made it okay to be a nerd.  (I want to say that Hermione made it great to be a nerd, but there are always those who don't like nerds - and girls.)  She was a role model, but more importantly she was a promise.  While most other nerdy girls in young adult fiction longed to be a part of the popular crowd and changed themselves to get there (of course learning from their mistakes later), Hermione was our guiding light.  Hermione was a promise that nerdy girls could handle the mockery thrown at them, that they would one day find a way to style their hair successfully and that they would have friends and find love.  She showed us that being smart wasn't a bad thing, but more importantly, she taught us the value of our own knowledge and intelligence outside of the classroom as well as in it. Rowling presented us with a fantasy of a nerdy girl, and as we aspired to be Hermione, being a nerdy girl was made that much easier. 

Today I watched Rowling's 2008 Harvard Commencement Address, which brought me to tears.  I thought about my next commencement address coming up on May 12, 2012, I thought about how this address better be better than the last one, and how it will mark the nerdy period of my life.  I don't imagine that my leaving school will suddenly erase the nerd markers that can be read all over me, but there is something terribly final about it.  The chapters of my life that involved Harry Potter are inextricably linked with school and I don't know how I would have survived them without Hermione.  My childhood will be decisively over and I don't know what comes next.  I know what happens next for Hermione, but let's be real, no one likes the epilogue anyway.  I will always appreciate the last thirteen years and Hermione's guidance on navigating the world as a nerdy girl. 

I don't know what comes next.  There are no more answers. 

love,

hannah

Dear Louder Than A Bomb,

The movie.  You may never get to see it, but should you get the chance, please go.  It's fantastic.  And there are tiny threads that connect me to that movie all over the place.  Really, go see it. 

I'm tempted to post poems and interviews all over this post, but I'm going to restrain myself.  I'm just going to give you the ten minute trailer that tempted me for a year.  And then you can tease yourself with it and hunt down a place to see this movie. 

In other news, I have eaten five apples today.  And I'm thinking a lot, and writing very little. 

That's going to have to change. 


love,
hannah

Dear Eat, Pray, Love,

I thought I had sworn that I would never watch you.  I am not interested in you.  As J.Laine said it's a movie about "getting wisdom from 'little brown people.'" I'm not down with that.  But somehow, post-rehearsal this evening I needed something to let my mind cool.   (Cool? I'm not sure what I was thinking.) Somehow I came to Eat, Pray, Love which I never wanted to see. 

However, it's making me nostalgic for Italy, for Rome.  I know it was only a week that I was there, but I miss it a lot now.  And I think it will only re-kindle my decade long desire to go to India. 

I really should stop.  Really, I need to stop watching this movie.  I've got things to do tomorrow.


love,
hannah

Dear Charlie's Angels,

I'm watching the Charlie's Angels remake with Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz and Lucy Liu, which I've got to say, I remember quite fondly from my sleepover days.  Like, it was a classic, and we would watch is every sleepover.  And I remember being incredibly attached to it, and even really liking the characters.  And finding it a cool movie. 

Today, I'm not so sure.  It's a pretty crappy movie.  I mean, there are some delightful moments, but...


Well, soon we'll have another Charlie's Angels TV show.  What will we do with that?


love,
hannah

Dear My Girlfriend's Boyfriend,

You are a horribly titled movie.  With a twist! I can't say that I saw either of those plot twists coming.  *SPOILER ALERT* The wealthy guy is the character being written by the real boyfriend.  It is not a tale of polyamory as I thought. 

However, the reason that this twist was rather weak is because the character boyfriend was boring and two-dimensional.  That's why I couldn't believe that she was deciding between the two.  And in the end it was all about fertility... Interesting. 

Not quite the four star review that Netflix predicted. 


love,
hannah

Dear Burlesque,

Take two.  I know that I have already professed my love for you on this site, but it must be done again.  You are seriously going to become the best sleepover movie of all time.  I expect to be talking with twelve year olds some years from now and hear your name spoken reverently from their lips as they plan the best birthday sleepover ever. 

I watched you with Portuguese subtitles over the last twenty-four hours.  Totally worth it. 

And then listening to your soundtrack inspired an inevitable round of downloading music. 

I do a poor job of blogging on the weekends.  Time just goes wonky.  I spent more time socializing this weekend than I have in a long time.  It was a beautiful thing.  My weekend was made of many beautiful things. 

Not my last reading.  I haven't done that.  I need to update my iPod with the inevitable new round of music and then buckle down and do the final reading. 

Ah, Sundays.


love,
hannah

Dear Brandy Cinderella,

Why are you so amazing? Really.  You are wonderful.  (I could insert song lyrics but I'm choosing not to.)

So, sure you came up in a discussion about multiculturalism and color-blind casting, so what? It was worth it. 


love,
hannah

Dear Cosmo's Moon,

The last few nights in Rome, I was struck by the moon over and over and over again.  I swear to god it was Cosmo's moon.  Gorgeous.  And then I saw it last night, in St Paul!

I woke up two hours ago and tried to go back to sleep for a while, gave up and started watching Instant Star.  Then I got really hungry.  But, I don't know anywhere to go for food in the Twin Cities at 5:30 in the morning.  I'm eating snack bars until normal places are open.  Also, I can't sleep right now. 

Next in line: shower, maybe some work for the amazing course/travel I just finished, a visit to the SPO, and hopefully I'll get tired again. 

January trip was amazing.  No regrets, one of the best decisions I've made.  Met some wonderful new Mac people and left me with lots to think about. 

However, I've been in town for hours and I still need to shower. 

Here goes semester number two. 


love,
hannah

Dear Burlesque,

YOU WERE EVERYTHING I WANTED YOU TO BE. 

Thank you. 


love,
hannah

Dear Ponyo,

Okay, you are downright cool.  And super cute.  I squealed at you, a lot. 

You make me want to go swimming.  With jellyfish, which, when you consider that I'm terrified of jellyfish, is a big deal. 

You're a fairy tale! A joyous one! With a challenge that is not so hard to complete.  Will you promise to love Ponyo forever,  no matter what form she is? OR COURSE YOU WILL.  If I could pull myself together, I would want to be Ponyo for Halloween... But that's too much to hope for. 

Like this, but bigger. 

I'm not really celebrating Halloween this year.  No costume, very little candy, and next to no free time.  It's okay, it's  letdown holiday, right everyone? We're just gonna have to make our own little parties with costumes instead of the usual Halloween.  Maybe next year...


love,
hannah

Dear Babies,

I think I might like you better the second time.  You're so simple.  You're so cute. 

The Mongolian baby is still my favorite though. 

Ann and I put up lights in our room this weekend.  It looks pretty good, though we have three different colors and several different lengths.  What it means however, is that we can now have a pretty well-lit room without having to turn the big light on.  And that my friends, is super good news because it makes a horrible buzzing sound that annoys me particularly when I'm doing homework.  Now we have more than enough light. 

Here's to the beginning of a great week.  So many things to look forward to, most of all, fall break.  A chance to take a breath.  But that's a total lie because I just don't want to do my work any more, so I've been taking lots of breaths. 

Lots of deep breaths friends.


love,
hannah