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Thanks for your comments - I'm going to agree with most of them, specifically about how the 1933 version should have worked, with Kate Hepburn theoretically a perfect fit for Jo. I do think that, in the first section, she is very, very good and "jo"-like. My feeling is that it's the script which lets her down once Beth is ill and Jo goes to NY. We tend to lose the core of Jo's nature in key places, I feel; Hepburn does her best, and there are lovely scenes, like the one where she confesses her loneliness to Meg, but the script and direction allow sentiment to take over a little too often. However. For me, Spring Byington is the "best" Marmee, and as Aunt March, I will take Edna May Oliver any way I can enjoy watching her.
June Allyson has that nice rough-and-tumble aspect to her, and, like Hepburn, isn't afraid to run around in those skirts. O'Brien is a lovey Beth, and it's rather sweet to have the two Hollywood "town cryers" sharing a scene. But I don't like the casting of Elizabeth Taylor as Amy and/or feel she wasn't directed well. And I understand that if you have O'Brien as Beth, Taylor can't be the youngest sister and so the script switches birth order. But I still don't like it.
I've only seen the 1994 version once, and should watch it again. I remember feeling that, much as I like Ryder generally, she comes off a little too "dainty" for Jo.
For me the 2019 version had some interesting ideas, and Ronan has that same rough on the edges feeling that I think Jo ought to have. Ultimately, for me, there was sensation of distance from the material and the story in this version, which left me unsatisfied. Though the structure didn't confuse me, it may have contributed to that sensation. Perhaps, like the end, though it made me smile and enjoy the twist, there was a sort of too-much-cleverness within it. "Little Women" isn't a "clever" work. It's a look at four sisters, and how growing up together, and apart, affects their lives and development.
Late reply, but:
Addison knows pretty much everything: he would have begun digging immediately after his dressing room conversation with Eve, when he asks about the Shubert Theater in San Francisco. He actually gives Eve a subtle warning in the Cub Room scene, when he lightly comments: "Sometimes I think you keep things from me," and finishing by warning her that he hopes she means it when she says she depends on him, because he intends to hold her to it. In the hotel scene he fires at Eve that he had a meeting with Karen just (an hour ago?), and that "like all women, she revealed more than she learned." I would say that Addison never goes into a battle unarmed.
He knows what a potent, double-edged sword his article on Eve is too, as he intones, giving Karen the newspaper someone else was reading: "Here. Read my article. The minutes will fly like hours." Oblivious to the subtle (oh, that Addison!) warning, Karen smiles brightly as she accepts the bomb about to go off and reunite Margo and Bill.
But Margo suspected nothing until the midnight phone call. Even then, she had that conversation with Birdie, to be sure she wasn't being paranoid. It wasn't until the further scene with Eve and the silent exchange between Margo and Birdie that Margo became actively suspicious of Eve. More than that, there was jealousy/envy involved because Eve has all the advantages: she's young, she's intelligent, she's gentle, she's eager to be of help (though the reasons aren't what the target realizes), she knows how to make herself attractive to those around her. So Margo is also feeling defenseless. And, because of how Eve presents herself, there's nothing Margo can say to make herself sound justified. So there are many, many reasons for Margo to find herself behaving the way she does.
This makes me think of a line from another wonderful P&P movie, "Stairway to Heaven", where Marius Goring (Julian in "Red Shoes"), playing a completely different character, sighs at one point: "Ah, one is starved for Technicolor up there." ("Stairway to Heaven" was my intro to Marius Goring and to P&P, and I just adored Goring in it. When I saw "Red Shoes" for the first time, it took me a while to reconcile myself to the fact that Goring was Julian).
Remember the time frame of this movie: we start in about 1964/65; Cole is born around 1965/66. Here's a table of when, in the US, hearing tests on infants began to be standard practice: https://www.infanthearing.org/legislative/summary.html. In the 1960s, this wasn't normal practice. So I cut them some major slack here.
With due respect, the high school bands in our area were very good; however: I add that we grew up in a large city, in about the same time period as the start of this movie (I'm old...!), and that, during this time, in my area, all the arts enjoyed a lot of concentration. So for all of us, our mileage may vary.
Yep, it's short, but again, I cut slack, since, really, do we want to sit through 20 minutes of music when the story is basically over? In head canon, perhaps they excerpted the most complete section of the work.
I politely disagree (forgive misspellings, I can't spellcheck right now):
We witness the effect of Luke's death on all the major players, and can gauge character status and development from their emotional and their political responses.
We see at least two sides of Aegon's character: foolish inattention at the Small Council; attempts at charity in the throne room; back to silliness and inattention.
We see the various emotional, faith related and political knots begin major ensnaring for Aliceinte.
Cracks are already beginning to form within coalitions on both sides.
This is the start of wind-up. Personally I am willing to patiently wait to see to what pitch it winds before it spins out of control.
Ages ago I read a New Yorker article about how hard it was for clothing franchises to get started in NYC as opposed to other locations. One spokesperson observed that, while, in other cities, colors were the norm, here in NYC, "it's black, black, and more black." I'm a native New Yorker (by way of Brooklyn) and I can vouch for that!
It's up to both of them to act like intelligent people.
As far as this specific situation goes, she explains that he came onto her twice; she refused twice. In retaliation, he ignored her and her work, which would have been detrimental to her career:
Because he would not be advancing her culinary education with his attention and advice.
Because it might incite the others to treat her badly too, and isolate her within the team.
Because if she quit in response to this treatment, he might take it upon himself to write a negative review to a future employer, thus further damaging her future.
Because there is a general understanding about relationships in the workplace, which this incident violated.
Plus: no way should you get rid of Edward G. Robinson before you absolutely have to.
George ruined it: you're not supposed to tell your wish or it won't come true: he told Mary every bit of his wish. Mary, on the other hand, reminded him that telling would cause the wish not to come true. She kept silent, he was expansive.
So, well....
I'm thinking the Bailey family may have gone into its own crisis after Harry's death (and my mind is kind of embroidering on my idea that Sam Wainwright may have carried guilt over encouraging little Harry). It might be that Peter Bailey (and Ma Bailey, for sure) started declining after the death of their only child; Peter may not have had the wherewithal to fight Potter, and may have either given up the B&L or may have died earlier than in the actual timeline. We don't know of course; but for sure the Baileys would have been horribly affected, and they wouldn't have been the people we know in the actual timeline.
Here's a little character note for Mary, incidentally: she is a witness to the Gower-capsule scene. George isn't the only one who kept Mr. Gower's secret.
I don't say that Mary is trying to take Potter down. By the same token, in the actual timeline, the Baileys aren't trying to take him down either. They are simply attempting to offer a viable alternative to his slums and economic control. Similarly Mary would not necessarily be trying to take Potter down but to offer a viable alternative to that loud, messy, greedy world thriving under his hand: a place where a person can simple *be*; think; perhaps formulate a way out of Pottersville.
Also, of course, a place where a person can read, absorb ideas, think critically, argue intelligently. Perhaps it is in this way that Mary does the most harm to Potter, if harm she intends.
We assume she is miserable; we do not know. We see she is guarded, and protective against this world as she ventures outside, but this doesn't have to add up to miserable, unmarried woman. It can add up to a woman who knows she has to be on her guard on these streets - I'm a New Yorker; similarly, I also know I need to be on my guard in some areas of this city. That doesn't make me miserable, and I certainly don't consider myself such.
Oh. Something else occurred to me: In the absence of George, why was little Harry at the ice pond? From what George announces, it sounds as if there are mostly older boys there. If that's the case, Harry isn't tagging after his brother but after someone else. Maybe joky, funny, Hee-Haw Sam Wainwright. In which case, Sam is indirectly responsible for the death of the Bailey's only child. Perhaps indirectly responsible therefore for an early death for Peter Bailey. It may be, then, that this preys on Sam's emotional state of mind, and there may not be a fun, successful Sam for Mary to consider for marriage.
How's THAT for speculation...?!
But letting the opposition understand that opposition exists.
Thanks!
Of course this entire conversation is assumption and speculation, so I feel free to go at it.....
If Mary is at all alert in the former Bedford Falls/Pottersville, she would be aware of Potter, what he is, what he wants and how he gets it. If she has any of the integrity we see of her in the actual timeline, she wouldn't approve of Potter or what he has done. She would be that one out thousands for the same reason that Peter Bailey was. Peter Bailey could also have been far more comfortable and probably have lived longer without the B&L, and fighting Potter, but he did anyway. Why him among the thousands in Bedford Falls? Because he understood injustice and thought he had a way to counter it. Who's to say that alternate Mary, in the absence of the Baileys, didn't fall into this slot?
The B&L need not exist for a person to form a sense of outrage against Potter: Mary would not necessarily have needed the inspiration or example of the B&L to form her own outlook and ideas of counteracting.
Mary, though, is not George, and she need not be walking the down the same path of reluctance and obligation. We don't know how or why she reached whatever decision she made or rejected in the alternate time. Maybe she *is* resentful of her position. Or maybe she isn't: we don't see enough of her to know what she's truly feeling here. You may be right; or I may be right; or, in this little fan fiction (as this feels to be!), maybe there's something completely different motivating her. We know, in the actual timeline, that she is happy in Bedford Falls, is comfortable in a small town setting, and loves old, broken things that can be made whole. She may have seen this sort of life disintegrate as Bedford Falls turns into Pottersville, and maybe this is the start of her crusade.
Potter is also doing pretty well despite the B&L. In any case, it isn't necessarily the certainty of victory that can propel a fight, but (need to do part II)
I disagree.
I feel there's more to Mary's alternate life than we're seeing:
Figure, for example, that a library in Pottersville is a difficult place to maintain, though necessary. Kind of like the Building and Loan in actual time. I think that, absent of the Bailey family and the B&L, Mary has taken their place as the one who stands against Potter. She does it by maintaining a quiet, peaceful spot in this loud, superficial town, where money is spent on things that don't last. A library is a haven, where you can spend all day reading, thinking, being quiet and thoughtful. It is not a place of profit, and it wouldn't surprise me if Potter were after it in a similar way that he is after the B&L. In this world, Mary has no time for marriage because she is George Bailey here. But it's even harder for her than it is for George.
She seems fond enough of Willoughby, but disapproves of the way he and Marianne behave together. She basically says this to Brandon, adding words to the effect that she wishes her sister would grow up learn what the world is like and expects of her. Brandon, from experience, tells Elinor that this is something Elinor should not wish on her sister.
So Elinor probably feels that Willoughby is childish and thoughtless, but harmless.
I'm going to say that "GBU" has some dark and strong content, pertaining mostly to the travesty and brutality that is war. There is a lot of tragic and horrifying backdrop and forefront going on here: devasted armies shoot prisoners and dragging misery in their wake; the prison camp sequence; the drunken captain, psychologically destroyed by the vicious cycle of battle over the bridge. Angel Eyes flourishes in this environment, but Blondie finishes by becoming humanized by witnessing and communicating with the horror before him.
Tuco is much less affected, but he is indicative of another thread of darkness running through this movie: the perceived necessity of turning to crime and inhumanity because of how the world is, even without the war. Remember his scene with his brother, where he reminds Pablo that, where they came from, there were two ways out of poverty: the church or crime, and that Tuco chose the harder way. Remember that Pablo doesn't deny it, and that, when Tuco is gone and cannot hear him, Pablo asks for forgiveness.
No, i would say GBU has darkness aplenty in it. Its presentation is different than in A few Dollars More. I wouldn't say that one is inferior or superior to the other, and the same with Once Upon A Time. I appreciate all of them, findit hard to choose which is "better", and like them all on their own merits.
I am going to disagree: remember that Jennie is really not a little girl at this point, but the essence of the young woman who died, and that the child already has a premonition of her end as she looks at Eben's painting of Land's End. Given this, the mixture of adult and child in all the aspects of Jennie until she actually is an adult is, for me, part of the mystery and ambiguity of reality of this story.
That award would actually probably go to Veda (sp) from "Mildred Pierce". Ilsa, as I explain above, doesn't qualify for the title, and Rose is small fry in the category, if she qualifies at all.