Tag Archive for: Angelina Jolie

I Love Old Movies

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I’m a sucker for old movies. I don’t need Technicolor or over-the-top special effects to produce a four-hanky sob-fest. Thank goodness for Turner Classic Movies. Their movie vault is filled with black-and-white, sudsy films that make me turn to goo.

Recently I watched Journey for Margaret, a heart-warming World War II flick with Robert Young and Margaret O’Brien in her motion picture debut. Released in 1942, it was the early days of America’s involvement in the War, and the story centers on a hardened newspaper reporter’s efforts to bring two orphans to the States. When he is forced to choose only one, your heart breaks for the little boy he must leave behind.

I also watched an absolutely silly, inane , but ultimately very sweet movie, A Date with Judy, released in 1948 with Jane Powell and a very young, waist-no-bigger-than-a-wasp, Elizabeth Taylor. This was the post-war equivalent of Beverly Hills 90210, but with actors with actual talent. Amazing to think that Liz Taylor and Robert Stack get secondary billing because they’re not the “stars” of the film. But as ridiculous as the plot in this film is – and trust me, any film with Xavier Cugat, a Chihuahua, and Carmen Miranda as the B-storyline is dumb – nonetheless, I actually cared whether Judy and Oogie (Jane Powell and Scotty Beckett) reunite and whether Carol and Stephen (Taylor and Stack) can overcome his prejudice against family wealth.

It’s funny that I can wax rhapsodic about these two movies, which is in stark contrast to the movie reviews I’ve been hearing from Rhonda, the Southern half of Evelyn David. She recently spent hard-earned bucks on two new blockbusters, and walked away disappointed in both. It wasn’t the acting. Rhonda assures me that George Clooney is still wonderful eye candy and Angelina Jolie has all the right stuff to be a convincing double (triple?) agent.

But at the end of both movies, she didn’t care what happened to George or Angelina’s characters. Without offering too much of a spoiler for either film, let’s just say that there was no Disney happy ending for anybody – and Rhonda wasn’t invested enough to be concerned.

Whether it’s a 1940s teen movie, a 2010 blockbuster, or the dog-eared copies of old favorite mysteries and books we’ve read and re-read, it always comes down to character. Does the audience identify with the fictitious people of screen or page? If not, then whether or not the protagonist lives to see another day or dies a noble death is quickly discarded into the “who cares” pile. All the fantastic car crashes and outrageous stunts can’t save a movie where you barely remember the main character’s name after the first fifteen minutes.

Watching these films, re-reading old favorite mysteries where I remember whodunnit on the first page and it doesn’t minimize the pleasure one iota, makes me take my own writing apart, sentence-by-sentence. I want my readers to care about Mac Sullivan, Rachel Brenner, most especially about Whiskey the Dog. I want readers to wonder if Mac can overcome 50+ years of commitment-phobia; I want to make sure that readers empathize with newly-divorced Rachel as she awkwardly re-enters the social scene; while at the same time, I want to baffle and surprise the reader with a mystery that is sophisticated and smart. Tall order, indeed.

But isn’t that what I signed up for when I listed mystery writer on my resume?

Stiletto Faithful, please share with me your favorite movie and why it has such lasting appeal.

Marian aka the Northern half of Evelyn David

Babies Having Babies

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Time magazine reports that 17 girls at Gloucester High School are expecting. The moms-to-be are just 16 years old. Some younger. Apparently they made a pact to get pregnant and raise their babies together. The sperm donors, since I scarcely can call them fathers, include a 24-year-old homeless man.

I love being a mother. I can remember the first time John, my boyfriend (eventually my husband), and I talked about having kids. We were just beginning to get serious, but I blithely announced that I wanted six children. John has admitted that his first inclination was to walk, very fast and very far away. We ended up with four kids, which was the perfect size for us.

But what was clear to me long before I had these little darlings is that once you have them, um, you have them. I could envision dumping husbands (singular or plural), but there’s no divorcing kids.

Which is why I’m always astonished at couples who have no hesitation to procreate, but are worried about making a commitment to each other. To me, marriage was easy, and quite frankly, fixable if it was a mistake. But kids? Like it or not, and certainly all parents will agree that there are moments which are not blissful (I’m a writer so I dutifully checked for a synonym for my first word choice: ghastly), having children is a no-money back, lifetime commitment. Sure there’s nothing like new baby smell, which if they could bottle it, I’d buy a case of the stuff. But there’s also nothing like wall-to-wall baby poop, which the little one has smeared “everywhere” upon awakening from his “10-minutes I’m done for the day” nap.

I’ll take Brad and Angelina (do they need last names?) at their word that their refusal to marry is based on principle. They insist they’re committed to each other and their burgeoning brood. Of course, Angie’s already been married twice and Brad’s batting 0 for 1, so it’s hard to be sure that principle is the only reason why they’re avoiding the wedding cake dessert.

But what about P. Diddy, Puff Daddy, whatever? I’ve got nothing against the man. He certainly seems to take financial responsibility for the five children he’s fathered with three different women. But as to any strolls down the aisle, it’s not going to happen soon. “I have to be ready to get married,” he insists. Ready for what? I mean you have to be ready to raise kids too, and that’s more than writing a support check every month (although that’s obviously preferable to not writing one).

The teen years are a time to study, have fun with your friends, do crazy (but safe) stunts, and simply put, grow up. Sure, having a child puts you on the fast track to adulthood – but what’s the rush? Babies having babies is wrong for the mothers and their offspring. And teens getting pregnant, as part of some bad initiation rite, is a club no girl should be joining.

Evelyn David
http://www.evelyndavid.com/