chick flick alert

I would like to say, first off, that I liked P.S. I Love You.

(Yes, gentlemen, I am about to discuss a chick flick. Unlike in real life, when I have you cornered at your desk in the office or across from me at a restaurant, you can escape this conversation. Using most internet browsers, click on the “back” arrow, or perhaps type a new address into the navigation bar, also at the top of your screen. Be honest with yourself. You know you would rather visit something like this than read my thoughts on yet another chick flick I will henceforth use as one more pop cultural reference point to my life and the lives of those around me.)

Where was I….

Right. I liked P.S. I Love You. But it was a lot different than I expected.

Look, I knew it wasn’t going to match the book, since they cast an American actress in the key role and put most of the story in New York rather than Ireland. So right off the bat, it makes a little less sense -- you can’t help but ask yourself why this grown woman can’t cope at all with her life. In the movie, you’re asked to believe the death of someone so close to you will literally drive you mad for a year. In the book, you’re given to understand Holly and Gerry had been together since childhood, so of course she has no idea how to live in an adult world by herself.

(I love Gina Gershon’s character in this movie, though, specifically when she says the middle classes -- tied, as they are, to regular paycheques -- don’t have the luxury to be insane.)

Also, some kind of key characters were killed off for the sake of the movie. Which leaves Holly without her loving, wacky brothers or her dad. At the same time, the decision to take the father figure out of the story puts a totally different spin and depth to Holly’s mother and even Holly. In some ways, the Holly of the book world is kind of a simple character, and her mother is something out of an Austen novel. Kathy Bates’ Patricia is no Austen mom.

Further side note, Movie Holly was a lot more…. wincy than Book Holly. Honestly, I didn’t really understand why Hot Gerry (can I please order up a Gerard Butler with a side of James McAvoy?) liked Movie Holly until about the middle of the film.

Things I loved…. The shoes Hilary Swank got to wear. A scene featuring just Gershon, James Marster and Lisa Kudrow, in which Marster’s character decides it’s time to comment on Kudrow’s character’s “appreciation” for men, and she slams him down. The fact that some key plot points went missing, but the most important ones did not go astray.

Anyway, ladies, you should check this one out if you’re in the mood for a bit of a cry fest.

And -- spoiler alert -- I offer the last two lines of Ahern’s book for those who might have felt a little let down or isolated by the movie’s end:

Whatever lay ahead, she knew she would open her heart and follow where it led her.
In the meantime, she would just live.

ah, nature.... the sweet-smelling kind

When I left the office tonight -- well, this morning, as I was on the late shift and didn't leave until half past midnight -- the scent of timber was blowing up from the river valley. I love these nights, when the clean smell of trees sweeps downtown. Such a welcome break from the smell of pee that often penetrates the sidewalks throughout the summer months.

A couple quick notes --

• The Cecilia Ahern novel, for the most part, left me with a big smile. I have three people I wish to suggest it to, and about 10 friends I would caution not to read it. It's probably too soppy for some, and exactly warm and fuzzy enough for others. The premise, for example, is summed up in a letter at the start of the book: My darling Holly, I don't know where you are or when exactly you are reading this. I just hope that my letter has found you safe and healthy. You whispered to me not long ago that you couldn't go on alone. You can, Holly. You are strong and brave and you can get through this. We shared some beautiful times and you made my life . . . you made my life. I have no regrets..... I promised a list, so here it is. (p. 32-33) Yes, kind readers, this is a book written for women by a woman. This is the kind of letter some women, perhaps stupidly, dream of receiving. And really, my biggest beef about this vanilla book is the two capitalized letters at the very close: THE END. I hate the idea of any story just stopping abruptly.


• The idea of this contest has me completely intrigued and sort of excited. To tell a story in 250 words? Easy peasy. To do it right and perhaps even poetically? Hm.


• Okay, I'm not finished with dissecting the vanilla novel, although this barely counts.... How could they have translated a good Irish novel to cast an American in the key role? The reason Holly feels so very alone and out of control is because she and her husband actually grew up together and were never separated. If the movie has Hilary Swank travelling to Ireland for the first time to see where her husband grew up, I'm not sure I get how that works within the story Ahern wrote. And, when I look at the cast list, it seems a whole bunch of characters have been created who were never in the book. While I'm thrilled to see that puts a role in the hands of Jeffrey Dean Morgan -- and hopefully he won't be killed off for once -- I have a lot of question marks.

gone Hollywood

Here’s my own personal Catch-22 -- I spend concentrated time trying to find book covers that in no way feature pictures of, say, Scarlett Johansson.

If a movie is based on a book, I want to find the book that still has its original art on the cover. I guess it’s sort of like how I want the book that doesn’t have Oprah’s stamp on it. (I’ve probably mentioned this before, but my copy of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina actually had an additional Oprah sleeve wrapped around it when I purchased it. It made me sad a modern day talk show host could somehow claim even a small part of a book that outdates her by a couple centuries.)

At the same time, I’m fairly open to suggestion. And so last night, when I went to Elizabeth: The Golden Age (not good, if you’re wondering, but not exactly bad, either -- if you really want to see this movie, wait for it to come to DVD and in the meantime watch its far better prequel), I was struck by the premise of P.S. I Love You.

The movie, starring Oscar so-and-so’s, is scheduled to come out later this year, I guess. It’s based on a book by Cecelia Ahern, which I bought today in giddy expectation of a love story I will enjoy.

My giddiness is getting out of hand, lately.

While in Ottawa, I went to the movie version of The Jane Austen Book Club.

For the record, I didn’t actually expect to enjoy this movie much. For once, I was bothered, right off the bat, by how young everyone cast is. Because in Karen Joy Fowler’s book, there’s such an emphasis on middle age. I felt like going with Maria Bello and Amy Brenneman (who, by the way, does not look old enough to have a daughter in her 20s) was sort of pandering to our society’s misplaced ideals of beauty, which are linked to youth.

I still think whoever cast the film should have tried a little harder to find older women to play the main characters.

But I sort of easily put my concerns aside during the film’s opening credits. Everyone’s rushing around in today’s LA, no time to think, no time for pleasantries -- and yes, I know many another movie critic before me has discussed these opening scenes. Then, as the movie opens, it really does stay true to Fowler’s excellent book. There’s just enough Austen trivia for those who love the books, but not too much for those who’ve never read them. The story doesn’t rely too fully on the six novels, but you can easily recognize how Bello’s Jocelyn is Emma, etc.

I love, love, loved it. Cross your fingers for future adapted screenplays.