(no subject)
It doesn't take much: a Wispa bar and pink lemonade and I am anyone's bitch. Or at least, I am strangely susceptible where trashy, culty teen vampire films are concerned. Somewhere between my first and third viewing I went from being all objective and coat-discerning to out-and-out fangirly.
I have learnt to play Bella's lullaby on the piano, I kid you not. (I kid you a bit. "Learnt" is never a good analysis of my piano-playing skills. "Play" is pushing it.) I can't get Radiohead's "15 step" out of my head. I have given up resisting icons.
I have grown so attached that there is very little about it I do not love. My favouritest scene of all is the one where he jumps off the truck and tells her he's taking her to see his parents. He just rocks back into this whole other era of cool.
Carlisle in the cardigan is possibly the cutest example ever of putting-human-visitors-you-might-want-to-eat-at-ease-through-knitwear.
The final kiss is so lovely to watch it is making me compile top ten lists in my head. It's soft and sizzling and prettier than ought to be possible.
Also, I read Midnight Sun and discovered that in spite of all my misgivings, Edward can narrate me into a corner. It was ludicrous and oddly satisfying.
I shall conquer this. I shall!
::cackles::
Two weeks into Ashes to Ashes, and I am back to loving every minute. I love that feeling it gives you of having knocked back a couple of glasses of wine. Everything seems to happen through a kind of Eighties haze, accompanied by an internal thumping bass that seems only dimly connected with the soundtrack.
It simply doesn't operate in the same sphere as Life on Mars, and I find I can draw a line under that and live with it quite happily. The plot developments are cheap and obvious and bring me infinite joy. I love all those clichéd scenes where Alex wakes up to find herself tied to railway tracks (as I read somewhere) and Gene appears through a cloud of dry ice and power chords. I am overcome with glee when Gene delivers babies/saves puppies/swaggers about in heels. Plus, "no, it's just the way I'm standing" is still making me giggle.
I was thinking walking to work the other day that the reason "brave" is such an attractive quality is because it has nothing to do with posturing machismo and everything to do with putting somebody else's needs before your own. (They have ripped down a wire fence and my walk to work is no longer alongside a golf course but alongside a great, sweeping space of a park, all sunshine through leaves and scampering dogs. Walk to work thoughts are running on reduced cynicism as a result. In fact, I blame the whole Twilight thing on it.)
For all the obvious flaws (and in real life, you would never get away with them), Gene is intelligent, professional, loyal and brave. With power chords. It's good enough for me and my TV. :)
And finally, the thought of Toby Stephens out-camping the rest of the cast on Robin Hood is almost enough to make me watch it. Almost. :)
I have learnt to play Bella's lullaby on the piano, I kid you not. (I kid you a bit. "Learnt" is never a good analysis of my piano-playing skills. "Play" is pushing it.) I can't get Radiohead's "15 step" out of my head. I have given up resisting icons.
I have grown so attached that there is very little about it I do not love. My favouritest scene of all is the one where he jumps off the truck and tells her he's taking her to see his parents. He just rocks back into this whole other era of cool.
Carlisle in the cardigan is possibly the cutest example ever of putting-human-visitors-you-might-want-to-eat-at-ease-through-knitwear.
The final kiss is so lovely to watch it is making me compile top ten lists in my head. It's soft and sizzling and prettier than ought to be possible.
Also, I read Midnight Sun and discovered that in spite of all my misgivings, Edward can narrate me into a corner. It was ludicrous and oddly satisfying.
I shall conquer this. I shall!
::cackles::
Two weeks into Ashes to Ashes, and I am back to loving every minute. I love that feeling it gives you of having knocked back a couple of glasses of wine. Everything seems to happen through a kind of Eighties haze, accompanied by an internal thumping bass that seems only dimly connected with the soundtrack.
It simply doesn't operate in the same sphere as Life on Mars, and I find I can draw a line under that and live with it quite happily. The plot developments are cheap and obvious and bring me infinite joy. I love all those clichéd scenes where Alex wakes up to find herself tied to railway tracks (as I read somewhere) and Gene appears through a cloud of dry ice and power chords. I am overcome with glee when Gene delivers babies/saves puppies/swaggers about in heels. Plus, "no, it's just the way I'm standing" is still making me giggle.
I was thinking walking to work the other day that the reason "brave" is such an attractive quality is because it has nothing to do with posturing machismo and everything to do with putting somebody else's needs before your own. (They have ripped down a wire fence and my walk to work is no longer alongside a golf course but alongside a great, sweeping space of a park, all sunshine through leaves and scampering dogs. Walk to work thoughts are running on reduced cynicism as a result. In fact, I blame the whole Twilight thing on it.)
For all the obvious flaws (and in real life, you would never get away with them), Gene is intelligent, professional, loyal and brave. With power chords. It's good enough for me and my TV. :)
And finally, the thought of Toby Stephens out-camping the rest of the cast on Robin Hood is almost enough to make me watch it. Almost. :)