In preparation for this final blog entry, I spent a lot of necessary time trying to decide which film I would choose to discuss. I realized that any discussion being brought to the table would really need to be kicked up a notch – or two – in order to keep up with the fabulous discussions and blogging that has been going on throughout the semester. I realized that, for me, there was no other choice but to blog about Little Women – the 1994 version to be precise. I enjoy and admire this version of the film just as much as I love the novel – one of my first ‘favorite books’.

When we first began our discussion of the novel in class, the question was posed (to the women in the class specifically) “how many of you received a copy of the novel as a present from your mom or an aunt, etc?” If I do recall correctly, almost every female in the class raised their hands. I want to explore A) what makes this story endure? Why is it passed down through generations of females? Especially, what is it about this story that makes mothers connect with their daughters? B) What part does the idea of gifts and giving play in the novel and the film? C) How does the 1994 version of the film capture the story, which is the gift, I received when given the novel?

I do not think that saying Little Women is important merely because it stars women as its main characters does justice to the work both in novel and/or film form. A story about women who are not admirable, relatable, or at least full of enough personality to evoke some sort of reaction is not going to be such a draw.

In relation to the idea of gifts and giving I find it interesting to look at differences in what is deleted or added in transferring from the novel to the film. What I found particularly interesting was the absence of the scene where the girls decide to each take their dollars and instead of buying something for themselves they each buy something for Marmee. Although it is included in the both of the other versions of the film that we viewed in class, it is not a part of the 1994 version.

In the novel Jo wants books, Amy is “desperate for drawing pencils,” and even Beth talks about wanting some new piano music. But after talking in detail about what they would buy themselves, they instead opt for each purchasing something for Marmee that also reflects something about themselves. Meg, who is said to be vain about her hands, buys a nice pair of gloves. Jo, who calls herself the man of the house in father’s absence, buys a pratical, sturdy pair of walking boots. Beth, who is the “cricket on the hearth,” gives Marmee hemmed hankerchiefs. Amy’s decision is most revealing about who she is: “I’ll get a little bottle of cologne. She likes it, and it won’t cost much, so I’ll have some left to buy my pencils.” It would seem to me that the director would have wanted the juxtaposition of the girls expressing what they want for themselves with the change of heart that leads them to spend their money on Marmee instead. However, I realize that certain sacrifices are inevitably going to be made in the name of expressing other prevalent themes in the film.

Little Women (the novel) is littered with interesting themes and motifs to consider and unfortunately the approximate 90 minute running time of a film is never going to be enough to cover it all. I do believe the only time I’ve seen a film that really encompasses the entire scope and “feeling” of a novel is the recent BBC version of Pride and Prejudice…and it was over 5 hours!

There are differences between the novel and the film from the very beginning. The first line of the novel is “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.” Even though this line is not the opening of the film, it is clear from the way the film was advertised and marketed that those producing/directing meant to profit from the association that readers – women in particular – make between the idea of Christmas, giving, good will, etc. and the novel.

For example, take a look at a poster advertising the release of the film in theatres. In case you cannot read the words at the top of the poster they are as follows: The story that has lived in our hearts for generations now comes to the screen for the holidays.

The reasoning behind the alternate opening to this film – or at least my best guess – is that the director felt the best way to translate the “feeling” of the novel to the screen was to use Jo as a clear cut protagonist. In order to transcend the boundaries of medium, Armstrong chose to make the story a first person account from Jo’s point of view as opposed to the third person omniscient narrator Alcott employs in the novel. I believe that this choice allows Armstrong to come as close as possible to achieving an “impossible” goal – at least impossible in the words of Seymour Chatman. In Chatman’s essay, “What Novels Can Do That Films Can’t (And Vice Versa), he asserts that:

And if it is the case that story-time necessarily continues to roll in films, and if description entails precisely the arrest of story-time, then it is reasonable to argue that films do not and cannot describe (Chatman 450).

Chatman’s reasoning comes from the essential difference in the way films and novels give information to the viewers and readers. He explains that a film cannot stop time in the way a novel. The beginning of the Little Women novel is a classic example of an author’s ability to stop the story and intrude upon the narrative in order to give important information. Alcott says that “young readers like to know ‘how people look'” and then she continues on with a detailed physical description of each of the girls. A film has an easier time in this particular instance because “it depicts, in the original etymological sense of that word: renders in pictorial form…Seeing is, after all, believing” (450).

But there are other circumstances where film, despite its best efforts, will always fall short of what novelists are able to do. Chatman cites Dickens as an excellent example of an author who uses digressions into detailed description as a way of taking the reader out of story-time, thus creating tension and suspense:

But in the movie version, the sense of continuing action could not stop…we would still feel that the clock of story-time was ticking away, that that pause was included in the story and not just an interval as we perused the discourse (450).

Therefore, directors need to get creative in the ways they show specific, important details and also include necessary back story. Sometimes close-ups and establishing shots are used for the former concern, but I am more interested in the way voice-over is used in Little Women to display the state of things.

This comes back to Armstrong’s choice of Jo as the “narrator” of the film. The beginning of the film, quite different from that of the novel, takes advantage of Jo’s central role and uses voice over accompanying establishing shots to explain the current situation the March girls find themselves in. The use of voice over – which is often criticized as a “cop out” – serves an important function in the film as both a way of explaining important information but also by allowing the viewer into Jo’s head we are able to better understand and hopefully sympathize with her. If sympathy and love are established between the viewers and Jo, it is then more likely that the other characters will be cherished because Jo loves them.

But I digress. Back to themes in Little Women, I cannot overlook the feminism overtones that Gillian Armstrong does a beautiful job capturing in the 1994 version of Little Women. I truly believe that one of the biggest reasons behind the enduring nature of this story lies in the relationships between Marmee and her daughters. Marmee is a woman who is more than just loving and nurturing to her girls. Marmee teaches her daughters the importance seeing themselves as something more than “purely decorative.” In my own blog post from long ago, I expressed my love for Susan Sarandon’s portrayal of Marmee especially in one of the key scenes of the novel/film.

The scene in question occurs when Meg comes home from Belle’s coming out party. Jo is shown pacing back and forth vehemently expressing her angry at the idea of people “gossiping about Meg and Laurie.” Meg is shown sitting on the bed, knees tucked up underneath her arms, and hair down looking quite small and vulnerable. She meekly expresses her desire to be rich and admired like Belle and the other girls present at the coming out party. The following moment is what makes Marmee a shining example of what all mothers are striving for – at least, I think so – and I think it is also the reason this novel is passed on from generation to generation. Marmee says the classic line: “I wish I could give my girls a more just world.” This is the line – shared only with the elder, wiser, and dangerously close to jaded older sisters – that really shows where the feminist aspects of the story are inherently entwined with gifts. This is why I think the novel is passed down through so many generations.

In order to fully show the extent to which gifts and giving permeate the film, there are a few key examples I must note. Some of the obvious examples include literal acts of giving gifts to others such as the girls giving away their breakfast feast to the Hummels, Mr. Laurence giving Beth his piano for Christmas, Professor Bhaer bringing Jo her book, and Aunt March giving Plumfield to Jo in her will. These examples (while not the only examples) are associated with key plot moments while also used to characterize the givers and receivers.

Giving breakfast to the Hummels is obviously an important moment because it shows the March girls living up to the expectations and lessons of their parents. More importantly, however, this altruistic act eventually leads to Beth’s death. Beth is the character who exists to constantly remind her sisters the importance of selflessness and it is therefore fitting that the audience should see how her giving of herself is in the end what brings her to death. But even in death, we see that Beth is giving and concerned about others over herself. She says that if God wants her there is nothing that will stop her; she also says that she will long for Jo “even in heaven” but she is willing to put aside her own emotions in the name of giving God what He wants. Mr. Laurence gives Beth the piano precisely because her lovely nature and giving heart are inspiring. The emotional receiving of this gift on the part of Beth – especially being motivated to hug Mr. Laurence despite her fear of people – is just as much a way of enhancing Beth’s character as to better understand Mr. Laurence.

The two gifts given to Jo at the end of the film are intrinsically linked in terms of moving the plot forward. Aunt March, although not particularly giving in life, gives Jo a most important gift in death. Leaving her Plumfield – “wouldn’t this have made a wonderful school” – gives her a reason to ask Professor Bhaer to stay in Concord. But it is him bringing her a copy of her novel that allows the conversation to occur. It is interesting that Jo says “thank you for my book” when really it was already something that she had writtne herself. What Jo is really thanking Professor Bhaer for is staying true to the giving nature that she so praised when first writing to Beth about him. His giving nature is made even more commendable because he is poor and does not have much even for himself. It is his selflessness, which reminds Jo of her own Beth, that is what she first loves about him.

Another reason this story endures has been attributed to the relatable character of Jo. There is one scene in particular that I believe ties together the idea of gifts, the importance of Jo as the central figure in the film, and the amazing bond between mother and daughter that makes this story a desirable one to be passed down through generations. The scene occurs when Jo is feeling reckless and out of place because she has refused Laurie’s proposal and Aunt March has chosen to take Amy to Europe instead of herself. Marmee says, “Jo, you have so many extraordinary gifts how can you expect to live an ordinary life?” I think it is in this moment that the audience can truly understand the real significance of gifts in Little Women. It is about understanding the gifts given by God and how to use them when giving oneself to others. This moment explains why Little Women has transcended generations and continues to inspire old and young women alike.

Now let’s move on to making connections! You’ve heard enough about what I think when it comes to Little Women… let’s see what the class has to say! One blog in particular that I have enjoyed reading this semester has an interesting post directly related to my last addressed the topic: Jo as a relatable character. In her post, “Well, we can’t all be Jo,” Robyn addresses why she thinks Jo is such a compelling character. The most interesting part of this entry, to me anyways, was the query about the intellectuals who have commented on how they felt they really were Jo when reading the novel. Robyn asks whether these women really are Jo or if they just want to be Jo. I found myself wondering if mother’s give this novel to their daughters because they either think their daughters are Jo (as my mother did) or if they just want their daughter to be inspired by the good examples set forth by each March girl in her own way. Maybe the truth is that every woman wants to be Jo but eventually, in sharing that desire with a daughter, she becomes Marmee.

Another great post from Robyn about companionate marriage leads me to wonder if perhaps I should’ve included something about the compelling romantic relationships in the story. Or perhaps I should be questioning whether or not they even are compelling. Jo and Professor Bhaer have been hailed as a coming together of equals but simultaneously denounced as an unfeminist example of Jo settling down. Armstrong’s directors commentary of the film suggests that what she was really trying to portray was a Professor Bhaer that would be worthy of Jo’s love. In looking at Armstrong’s film as a feminist critique of sorts I must wonder (as Dr. C does as well) why the beautiful scene with Laurie and Amy rowing together on the lake is not included. I believe that perhaps it is that curiously absent scene that really gets at companionate marriage and answer the question Robyn asks at the end of her post: What is an ideal marriage?

In related news, I wanted to mention a recent post from My Blog that although seemingly unrelated to Little Women is perhaps analogous to why women love Little Women. The post itself is actually about Sex and the City but it discusses the ways in which women are portrayed in different ways on the show and that allows a wide range of women viewers to identify. Like Jo, everyone wants to be Carrie, but perhaps they merely see some bit of themselves in her. But regardless of who you want to identify with, the show is much like Little Women in that it has four different yet connected women who represent the different choices women make. The choices available now are much more vast and Marmee would be happy to perhaps see a slightly more just world.

Before talking about my next link to “I’m Always Home. I’m uncool.” I just have to say that I love the way they organized their posts into topics by movie titles! YaY! Anyways, I cannot avoid dissecting this peron’s blogpost entitled I am obsessed with Little Women. This blog ends with the writer saying that she does not even understand herself why it is she loves Little Women so much. I find this particularly intriguing because I have spent my entire blog post musing over reasons why I think it is such a compelling and enduring story. The writer of the blog says that she typically hates females as lead characters. There is obviously something so much more to this novel and film which makes me hopeful for choosing it as a topic to discuss in my final blog post.

Also, another intriguing post from this same blogger focuses solely on Amy – a character I have neglected in my pursuit of capturing Jo’s centrality and Beth’s selflessness. It would seem that this blogger loves to hate Amy. It’s amusing to me to consider this because I do not hate any of the March girls. I see them all as integral parts of an inspiring whole. I do not think that Amy’s childish and at times selfish nature as a child should taint the way we view her passage through youth, adolescence, and into adulthood. I would have to strongly disagree that Amy only serves as a bad example. I think the way she groups up and changes with time serves as an example example of how experience can change someone and what the effects of strong role models can have.

I must say, the most hilarious and right on post by I’m Always Home. I’m Uncool is actually about the Elizabeth Taylor version of the film. While it does not pertain to the 1994 version it does analyze the morals of the March family and how they are not well portrayed by Le Roy. This blog post essentially explains why Le Roy’s version is unsatisfactory by saying that it leaves out all the important images of giving that I detailed in the earlier part of my post. I wondered why the scene where the girls buy gifts for Marmee was absent in the 1994 version but now after reading this blog post I guess I should be happy that Armstrong wasn’t so silly as to show the girls abandoning Marmee with a letter from their father to buy things for themselves. It is absolutely clear to me that the 1994 version is the one that best portrays the truth of who these characters are.

Yesterday I had 4 movie screenings scheduled.  CRAZY! But I loved it.

I was thinking about Portrait of Jennie (the film) and I kept thinking that I probably shouldn’t like it.  Even as I was watching it I kept reminding myself that it was over acted and that Eben’s voice overs were ridiculously emo and melodramatic.  So why did I enjoy watching it? The answer is: I really don’t know.  I don’t even believe in the idea of one soulmate for everyone but I was sucked in by the story.  I thought the actress playing Jennie did a wonderful job encapsulating that “timeless quality a woman should have.”  For some reason I managed to put aside my realistic expectations of love and embrace the latent hopeless romanticism that I have tried so hard to over come.  Maybe I felt so involved in the piece because although I am female and I long to be someone’s Jennie, I am really Eben.  I am Eben, that’s my cross to bear I suppose.  I would love nothing more than to be the Jennie – the girl with an irrepressable spirit and magnetic pull who can be an inspiration – but I think I’m really just the wandering artist waiting to be inspired. *le sigh*

Now if we jump to Vertigo… woah!  I’m not even sure where to begin.  How in deep are you when you let the object of your love/obsession/etc. change you into someone other than yourself? I asked myself that question towards the end of Vertigo but then I realized that people do it everyday.  Hell, many girls are out there voluntarily changing themselves to attain the guy they think they love.  But then I’m wondering even more whether or not Eben and Scotty are really just two sides of the same coin? One takes his obsession and creates art the other… goes off the deep end, right? But it can’t REALLY be that simple.  It’ll suffice to say – for the time being – that I can’t wait to discuss this in class!!!

So, what makes someone your soulmate? Is it something you just know when you meet them? Is there persistance what makes you realize that they’re serious? Can they really be your soulmate if you meet them at the wrong time or is it proof that it’s real if everything falls into place? Do we have more than one soulmate? These are the questions that sometimes I think I can answer but other times my head is left spinning with doubt and cynicism and anxiety over all the possibilities.

I was raised to believe that it’s all about timing and just because you truly love someone doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to work out.  Carmen told her story in class today about her Mom and I was shocked by the similarities in my own Mom’s story.  My Mom had a full paid tuition scholarship to the Art Institute of Pittsburgh but chose to marry my biological father instead… he has serious issues with fidelity and they got divorced when I was only six years old.  They were young and in love and Mom says she tried to force something that just wasn’t meant to be.  The timing just wasn’t right.  And yet, she doesn’t regret marrying him because if she hadn’t then she wouldn’t have had me.  Sometimes I worry that I’m poor consolation prize for not attending college.  *shrug*

But now, Mom is married to a totally awesome guy who loves her and me very much.  We’re both very blessed to have in come into our lives.  There story is an interesting look at timing.  My stepdad was married for many years and had two kids.  He is 16 years older than my Mom.  When they first met, Mom was going through her 2nd divorce and I think he was still married.  They met through work and when he left her office my Mom said “That is the most beautiful man I have ever met in my life.”  Next time they met, my stepdad was going through his divorce.  It took many months, but eventually they were both in positions to start a relationship together.  It seems they spent a huge portion of the beginning of their relationship laughing about all the times they could’ve met earlier.  Buffalo, NY isn’t a very big place especially if you grow up downtown on the West Side.  Mom and Ken (my stepdad) grew up in the same neighborhoods but 16 years apart.  When she was in high school waitressing, Ken was already married but spent many a nights in that same restaurant at bowling banquets that my Mom worked at.  He still remembers the desserts they served there, and yet, they did not actually meet.  There paths crossed so many times, but in the end, they didn’t meet until it was time.  Soulmates? I don’t know.  It sure seems that way.

I thought I’d link to a lyrics website.  It’s a song by Barbara Streisand that my folks like to randomly dance to in the kitchen.  The song really describes timing, and how it has to fall into place in order for things to come together and work out.  So check it out:  Isn’t it a Pity? 

I wanted to touch on the theme of eye contact we covered in class.  I’ve noticed that eye contact is everywhere.  People always seem to be talking about eye contact: making it, having it, avoiding it, being angry when it is avoided…etc.  Are the eyes the window to the soul? I suppose we’d first have to decide whether or not we have souls.  But let’s say we do, let’s say that there really is an inherent power in that ability to look someone in the eye and recognize them and have them recognize you and to have both of you realize this is a mutual recognition.  O.K. it’s powerful, but why?

Often times in movies there is that moment when two characters’ eyes meet across a crowded room and instantly are drawn to each other.  This is so cliche and yet we play right into it.  This seems to be what we are looking for in life.  We want that feeling when the moment of recognition makes everything else seem to fade away.  When someone denies us the eye contact we want we get mad.  Have you ever heard a girl lament and say, “he wouldn’t even look me in the eye”? I think this is a key to understanding the power of the gaze.  You can make someone from across a room turn and look at you if you stare long enough.  People can feel your eyes on them.  Eye contact can be uncomfortable.  Are we leaving our souls open and vulnerable when we look someone in the eye? Are our thoughts more visible on our faces? Is it harder to lie? I think the answer is “Yes.”  So the more interesting question to me is: why do we allow that vulnerability to happen?

In class on Monday I was surprised to find that there was so much dislike of FCAOOC.  But I guess what perplexed me most was the thought that people did not think it was on par with the other Morris films we’ve viewed.  I thought that it was not only the best in terms of liking it but I also in terms of it being good.  Not that the others weren’t good, I simply thought that this film was the pinnacle example of Morris’ extreme capabilities.  I was thoroughly impressed with the huge amount of material that he covered and yet still managed to bring it all together.  It did not seem forced to me because although the interviews were staged, it seemed as if Morris just set up the camera and let these men go off on their own tangents.  Sure, the editing was brilliant in that it served to highlight the connections and make them accessible and at times obvious.  However, the raw material – I feel – was completely genuine.  These men are obsessed.  It’s great! I agree with Dr. C when he says he only trusts obsessed people.  I trust them because I know it is their love of the subject matter that inspires them and that love pretty much guarantees and truthful and genuine response.  It’s also comforting to know that just when I think I’m obsessed, I find someone who turns it up to 11.  Someday I’ll be one of those people.  I’ll just be behind the camera… like Morris.  *crosses fingers*

It’s official: Errol Morris is a god among men! Just in case you didn’t already know, I figured I’d reiterate that his films (at least all of those I’ve now seen) are A-MA-ZING!

So let’s talk about Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control, shalll we?  I’ll admit, I was waiting for the moment when I was able to figure out what the title meant, I’m glad that it was something specific in the film it’s like if you cough you might miss it.  But there were so many things about this film that I loved even if I’m not quite sure yet what they meant.  I mean, when the camera filmed the circus audience from an angle that made it appear like they were in a cage… I got that one! Plus, the trainer guy was talking about how to the animals everything outside their cage is the cage.  I think we do that as humans.  We carve out for ourselves this little niche in the world and then we look at the big, wide world of change as some sort of trap.

But then we got the old man with the old fashioned shears in the topiary garden juxtaposed with the MIT guy who makes robots who could bring on the dawn of the silicon age.  O.K. that was fascinating, but I can’t quite wrap my head around it just yet.  There’s gotta be a reason why we can still hear the sound of the topiary shears even after we’ve moved on to another scene I just don’t know why?!? That’ll be my question for class… what’s up w/ the topiary dude?

I was thinking about what happens if life has meaning but it isn’t what we want it to be.  I’ve often thought that it doesn’t matter what the material world puts stock in because I believe in something that transcends the here in now i.e. I’m a Catholic.  (this goes for any religion, obviously, but Catholic just happens to be what I am)  Now, there is of course those who want to ask me “What happens if you’re wrong?” but it’s not that easy.  Belief in an absolute Truth, like God, means that you know in your soul that it’s right.  So transubstantian versus consubstantiation doesn’t really matter in the end.  Saints, Confession in a box, the Trinity… those things will dissolve away.  The particulars seperate us in this life but the big picture joins us together.  At least, that’s what I think Truth – with a capital T – entails.

Sorry this post was so spiritual, I just can’t seperate a discussion of Truth from what my beliefs are.  They are at the core of who I am and how I see the world.

O.K. So, the truth is difficult to know but not impossible.  But how do we learn? Are we going to learn it best by jumping out there in the world with a camera in our hands or by sitting in a class and watching someone else’s film? But even if we are holding the camera ourselves, can one argue that really we’re just a spectator on steroids? We’re behind the scenes, watching.  The real stuff is happening in front of the camera, right?

That’s what I may have previously been tempted to say.  That is, until Errol Morris.  WOW! He is making us see what we may not necessarily want to see.  He takes his camera and watches and listens and when it’s all done he has the tools with which he can build this amazing machine of truth discovery! If you really open your eyes and pay attention, you’ll realize that you simply can’t just discount the turkey guy as a nut job.  You just can’t do it.  Sure, we’ve all wished that there were less “buzzards” in the world, but Errol Morris captured the perfect candidate for such lamenting… ON CAMERA!

The Thin Blue Line REALLY worked me into a frenzy.  I left the screening and I was early for a meeting I had and I couldn’t stop going on about the film until our meeting was about to start.  The absolute cruelty and utter waste of human life was just so in your face while at the same time I didn’t feel like Errol Morris was passing any judgement at all.  Perhaps that was what was so frustrating.  It was like watching an accident that you can’t stop.  Listening to people like that Mrs. Miller woman who “loved watching detective movies” oh my God I swear it could’ve been scripted how well that woman incriminated herself.  If this had been a fictional, mockumentary I would have been laughing hysterically at the ridiculous ways in which the system is violated.  But then, I remind myself that a real man is rotting away in prison because of the inequities of justice and the stupid, selfish people who abuse the system for their own gain.  And Errol Morris is just watching this happen.  He’s just a man with a camera… it just seems so wrong.  But honestly, I don’t see his judgement or condemnation anywhere.

OK so I didn’t really like Gates of Heaven when I saw it at the screening.  It probably didn’t help that I was tired and hungry and I just wanted a movie to enjoy and not have to think about.  Although, ever since taking this course (as well as another film course I’m in this semester) I’ve found I can’t just watch a movie as a dispassionate spectator anymore.  I’m starting to watch movies the way I read books.  I’ve got my eye on the look out now for more than just, “oh that was funny” or “he was cute” or “that was so sad.”  Now, I’m really trying to look at things and understand how it is the director made that moment so funny or so sad.

So, I didn’t really enjoy Gates of Heaven at first because I was too busy trying to piece it all together in my head.  It made me work for it, which was irritating, but I totally appreciate it.  I was annoyed because I had this feeling like I was so close to understanding what was going on and yet still I felt lost.  I definitely want to watch it again.  It’s like a challenge.  It’s just a bunch of crazy old people who love pets too much, right? Hell no!

Side note: it really really bothered me that the singing dog lady was going on and on about that woman who made the big ordeal about not wanting her pet moved just because she wanted attention.  That was fine but then the singing dog lady criticizes this unseen woman because she wore fancy furs to the excavation and “didn’t she know it was going to smell…” I mean seriously! They love their pets so much and they’re wearing FUR to the gravesite?!? AARGH! I’m not even an animal person, perse, and that just pissed me off.