Book vs. Movie: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Earlier this month, I finally got around to reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith. I heartily enjoyed it and highly recommend it, albeit with a note of caution to younger readers, as it has quite a few mature themes in it. When my father caught me reading my copy while we were driving through Brooklyn on summer vacation (I couldn't resist the irony of reading it in New York), it reminded him how much he had enjoyed the movie and he bought it for our whole family to watch. I had been planning to watch it and blog about it anyhow, but I think watching the movie with my loved ones, especially my dad, made it extra special. So now, without further ado, here it is. Book versus movie. Which one shall come out on top?

There is no doubt that while the book and the movie share major plot points, there are some serious differences. Certain story-lines were condensed, combined, or cut for the purposes of the film. For the most part, I felt like these were good decisions, since the novel is a rich book with lots of details that are difficult to convey in a few hours onscreen. For example, the book ends with Francie and Neeley as young adults, but the movie stops while they're still children. The movie does just fine without the latter parts of the book and I think shortening the story was a prudent decision.

However, while some of the changes were true to the nature of the story, others were not. The movie definitely waters down the grittiness of poverty that the novel captures so well. Some of this can be attributed to the censorship in the 1940's. For instance, pregnant women were not allowed to appear onscreen. The notion was unthinkable in those days. Needless to say, my sisters were amazed at how thin these women of a bygone era were, even when months with child! There were other more mature themes that didn't make the cut: the complicated details of Sissy Nolan's multiple "marriages" and miscarriages (simplified and glossed over in the film), the pain of childbirth, and rape/sexual perversity. While the simplification and sometimes omission of these difficult issues certainly gave the film a level of charm, I think it came at a high price. The impact of the book was not fully present in the movie.

Even themes that did make the movie were weakened, due to the sensitivities of the Greatest Generation, its audience. Johnny Nolan's drunkenness was present, but kept off screen much of the time. More time was spent on Katie Nolan's faults than the complicated vices of her husband. The constant struggle for money wasn't as prominent. There were some allusions to Sissy's strange past, but it was never fully explored. Basically, while all the difficult questions and ugly sides of people were there, they were airbrushed to a certain extent in order to make them screen-worthy.

There was one scene of the film that definitely outdid the book, in my opinion. (It's a minor detail, so I don't think I'll be spoiling the larger plot for anyone interested in reading/watching A Tree Grows in Brooklyn!). Just after Francie and Neeley graduate, they all go out for ice creams and sodas, and a young boy comes over to the table to ask Francie to the movies. The moment is short in the book -- it's only meant to indicate that Francie is growing up and things are changing -- but it becomes a hysterical and somewhat longer ordeal in the movie. There are no clips of the scene online, but even if you don't plan to watch the whole film, watch that scene for a good laugh. It's adorable.

Book or movie? Perhaps this is a cop out answer, but I'm going to go with both. I think that while both novel and film tell the same basic story, in the end they are different tales. Betty Smith's novel is a little more beat up, with more grime and dirt and some holes in the knees of the jeans. The Nolan's poverty doesn't have the novelty it does in the movie. The morality of the characters is more complex and questionable. And following Francie and Neeley into adulthood certainly changes the message a bit. Meanwhile, the film is wonderful. I cried, and so did my parents. The acting is superb. I especially love the girl who portrays Francie, Peggy Ann Garner. She's absolutely darling. Sure, the movie isn't as gritty as the book, but it still addresses universal questions and does a great job. So my answers is "both", which I think is feasible, as the movie takes on a life of its own separate from the book.

Isn't this is a beautiful scene? This captures the predominant questions of both the novel and the film. The themes of education, truth, beauty, morality... All set in an impoverished neighborhood in Brooklyn. It's so awesome.

If you're interested in reading the book, click here. And here's where you can find out about the movie. If anyone here has read it or seen it, I would love to hear your thoughts!

Movie Review: Austenland

Being the diehard Austenite that I am, I always have to detach a little from history when I watch an Austen themed movie or series. I had to let go big time when Emily, Ally and I rented Austenland on a relaxed Saturday night. Sometimes at school you can get uber serious and all you do is study and have deep conversation and so you need a light, carefree movie to "refresh your palate" or something like that. Instead of giving my metaphorical taste buds a rest, I ended up biting my literal tongue looking at all the grossly inaccurate, not-at-all Regency pastel decor of the Austenland manor, and I squeezed the life out of my pillow every time someone did something non-kosher. ("Why are you people allowed to sit on the same couch? Why haven't you changed for dinner? Where is all the muslin!?") However, unlike some other Jane Austen films which try and fail at being historical, Austenland is all about Jane Austen misconceptions -- an interesting concept to see on-screen.

I'm going to be honest here: This movie hit my limit in terms of appropriateness. It is not something I would recommend to just anyone. I hesitate to recommend it at all, but there was one redeeming quality that made me feel like it was worthwhile for me as an individual. Two words: Henry Nobley.

The basic plot of Austenland is as follows: Jane Hayes has been in love with Jane Austen (and Mr. Darcy) since she was a child. After a run-in with her really slimy ex-boyfriend, she decides to do something that only characters in chick flicks can do: spend her savings on the trip of a lifetime. Jane heads to Austenland, an insanely expensive resort where women go and pretend to be characters in Jane Austen's world -- complete with romance. Hired actors keep the guests' experience… "lively". Jane is staying with quite the cast of characters, be they paid actors or paying customers. Long story short, Jane finds herself falling for the groundskeeper, Martin, instead of the actor she thinks she's being set up with, the gallant, eye-rolling, utterly Darcy-like Henry Nobley. [SPOILER ALERT] There's tension, awkwardness, historical inaccuracies galore, and then, PLOT TWIST! Lame-o groundskeeper guy is an actor who has been assigned to woo Jane, whereas Nobley is a history professor who has been roped into playing a character by his aunt, who owns the place. Henry really is in love with Jane, and as they both are terrible actors, every moment they shared was real. He's in love, flies across the pond to profess his love (and have tea), and they agree to give it ago. Did I mention that when he's not wearing a cravat he's sporting a thoroughly handsome blazer/sweater/button-down combo that makes his eyes look super blue and gives him an air of educated -- I digress.

He drinks out of a tea cup for the pure nostalgia of it. Hawt shtuff.

The thing about Austenland is that it has nothing to do with the real world of Jane Austen at all. The rich patrons (unlike Jane) experience the highest luxury -- not exactly the experience of Austen's landed gentry. Moreover, Jane Austen did NOT (contrary to popular belief) write romances. The sensuous affairs of Austenland's residents resemble penny dreadfuls rather than classic literature. Austenland is like Mansfield Park in many ways, in terms of plot and themes. It looks good on the outside, but it's morally corrupt on the inside. This moral decadence leads in to what I don't like about this movie -- more on that later -- but now, for the movie's redeeming quality, Henry Nobley.

Besides the fact that JJ Feilds has the best facial expressions, Henry is more than just the "good guy" of the movie. Henry and Jane both love the Regency era on account of its social customs, which are all but non-existent today. The little gestures like standing when a woman entered the room or limiting physical touch to dancing were meant to protect love and promote respect. Perhaps Henry and Jane are a bit idealistic in this regard, thinking that Regency England was some sort of romanticized haven, but the fact they have ideals is extremely admirable. Meanwhile in Austenland, the hideous and over-sexualized modern culture mingles with Jane Austen stereotype to create a pink, frothy concoction Henry calls "grotesque". The prevalence of sexual sin at Austenland directly conflicts with Henry's values and belief in proper conduct. Hence the tension between Martin and Henry. Martin acts entitled to Jane's affections, and takes liberties when it comes to physical contact and playing with her emotions. Henry, meanwhile, is respectful in his touch and his conversation. Henry, in his plain and historically accurate costume, stands as a literal and figurative contrast to his counterparts. Also, he has the most endearing ears.

Dat chivalry, though.

Now unto all that I didn't like. Unlike Greek tragedy, in Austenland, all the not-so-nice stuff happens on-screen. There were a number of "scenes" that made me uncomfortable and I didn't appreciate most of the humor. I also find it disturbing how flippantly the movie deals with a case of attempted sexual assault. While the scene itself isn't graphic or overly disturbing, none of the characters seem to take the occurance seriously. It is implied that such a thing has happened before at Austenland and has been covered up on numerous occasions. Yet Jane reduces the incident to blackmail and threatens to make a case and sue the owner. The notion is dropped by the movie's end with minimal fanfare. The offender is seen free -- albeit unhappy -- in a scene during the credits. While all of this immorality played into the larger themes of the movie, I don't think I can justify the tactless way it was presented. The cases of immorality were not dealt with tastefully but rather treated as crude objects of humor. I wish I could wholeheartedly recommend this movie, but alas... I hesitate. Perhaps one could watch it with Clearplay... though I'm not certain there would be a whole lot left.

On a semi-related note…

My favorite Henry moment was after the play (for there is indeed a play, a la Mansfield Park) when he asked if he might reserve Jane's first two dances at the ball. This was the Regency equivalent of saving the last dance, and I very much appreciated the detail.

He calls people ninjas.

And no, I will not stopping adding Henry gifs to this post.

Images: one, two, three

In Which There is Flirtation

Things can get a little weird in Ally and I's dorm room when it's as late in the evening as it is late in the semester. Our room becomes a passing stop for equally overtired comrades, who are given the rare opportunity to witness Ally and I in our most fragile mental state. Take, for example, our practice night for Flirting Friday.

After respective cases of tummy troubles and burnout, Ally and I resigned ourselves to a night in last Sunday. A double feature of Singin' in the Rain and Return to Me was in order. We topped off the afternoon/evening with giant fuzzy blankets and room service (a.k.a. a pair of nice friends who kindly brought us dinner around five or so). The night went on, and slowly our minds unraveled. We were exhausted in every sense of the word. Between exams and the comings and goings of daily life, I think I speak for both of us when I say that I was completely and totally DONE. Honestly, Thanksgiving break should have started that weekend for me -- I don't think anything received my full attention the rest of that week. On a crazy scale of one to Norman Bates, we were about a seven. It was in this mentally unstable state that somehow, someone proposed the idea of Flirting Friday.

According to tradition, Friday is "Fluff-off Friday" for Ally and I. No housecleaning ("house" being our tiny dorm room). No laundry. No chores. Just well-deserved relaxation after a week well done. Trading it in for Flirting Friday didn't sound very appealing, but I humored Ally, as well as a friend who was keeping us company in our room.

I, Honest Abe, told 'em like it is: "But I can't flirt to save my life."

So Ally decided to show me how it was done.

Her version of flirting, or at least the version that was presented to me on that exceptional evening, was discussion of Shakespeare punctuated frequently by the word "like". (Even when she's it down, Ally still comes across as smart.) Then it was my turn. There was lots of hair twirling… Yup, that was pretty much it. I quit a few lines in. It was BAD.

So we laughed it all off and abandoned the idea of Flirting Friday. At least, I did… until the memory came rushing back during a Black Friday interaction that revolutionized my self-image*.

* That was definitely hyperbole, just to clarify. Exaggeration hand raised all the way up, peeps.

I don't know where my sisters and I got the bright idea to drive to the theater that is attached to a mall on Black Friday when there is a perfectly good theater half the distance from our house in the opposite direction, but that's what we did. I think my sis wanted to get some shopping in, and naturally she was the only one who had luck in the half hour we spent running like mad around the store. ANYWAYS. We walk in to the theater with just enough time to snag tickets and seats before the previews start. I pay for all of us -- 3 PM showing of Catching Fire for four -- and we head towards the ticket-ripper-guy. He was pretty tall, had some seriously curly, relatively long hair, and I couldn't peg an age on him. (Had to be at least eighteen.) As he ripped our tickets and pointed us towards Theater 1, he cracked a joke about not getting lost. It was pretty funny, sure. I mean, Theater 1 was in plain sight from where we were standing. Everyone gives that polite laugh that is genuine but not quite genuine because it wasn't *that* funny. Last girl standing, I hand him my ticket, and he looks at me and says something about "following my friends" or something like that. And it hit me like lightning. His tone, the look he was giving me… It wasn't a normal social interaction.

THIS GUY WAS FLIRTING WITH ME.

Instead of panicking or making some derptastic noise, I felt a surge of power. The perfect witty comeback materialized right in the forefront of my mind. I knew precisely what smile to give him. I could have even batted my eyelashes for good measure. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BLACK FLIRTING FRIDAY, PEOPLE.

But I didn't. I wasn't interested. I think I laughed politely again and booked it to the bathroom. Yet even though it was an isolated incident and I didn't follow through with it and it wasn't even that big a deal, for about two seconds I possessed the power of flirtation. It was empowering. But honestly, I'm pretty happy being my incapable-of-flirting self. Can you imagine if I had the power of flirtation in addition to all of my other numerous gifts, namely my knack for humility? A girl can only be so many things before it starts becoming unfair. You know, before people start to hate you... I think I'll leave the flirting to the professionals.

Please don't kill me. O_O

PS - Catching Fire was pretty good. DUDE, KATNISS' SWEATER THING. It's like a cocoon, but for PEOPLE. 

The cold never bothered me anyways.

I guess it's high time I gave you folks an update on my NaNoWriMo experience this year. In case you weren't already aware, I didn't win this year. In fact, I didn't come anywhere close. I still have to update my word count. I think I hit somewhere in the 10,000 to 15,000 word range. November ended up being an awfully stressful month for school, and I couldn't exactly stay up late to get ahead on my word count like in high school. Truth is, I'm not that disappointed. I started writing a trio of wonderful fairy-tales that have so much promise, I could care less if they won me NaNo bragging rights!

For the past two months, I've been falling in love with fairytale writing all over again. It relieves my stress instead of adding to it, even when I hit roadblocks. Fairy-tales provide such a wonderful opportunity to communicate a meaningful message, tie in themes and symbolism, throw in some quirky characters, while also maintaining a sense of humor. To top off my fairy-tale love affair, I had the pleasure of watching Frozen this past weekend. That movie reminded me why I love story-telling so much. It was beautiful. I would highly encourage you all to see it. Don't listen to the music until after you've watched it, even though it's awesome. Oh, and prepare to laugh hysterically. I'd recommend checking out your sense of decorum at the door.

Let it be known that I write this post while rocking out to the Frozen soundtrack. Gosh, it's so good, it makes me want to write for Disney or something.

Look, Anna has freckles! Makes me feel a lot better after this post. Also, Hans has SIDEBURNS and a CRAVAT. Who designed these characters? Can I write them a thank you note? And would they kindly send me an exact replica of Anna's outfit, right down to the boots? Pleaseandthankyou.

In other news, it snowed today. It was the first real snow here at school, and Ally and I were naturally ecstatic. It was the kind of snow that made your hair sparkly and crunched under your feet. Combined with all of our Frozen references, I daresay it was a pretty good morning.

Until next time!

I couldn't keep this to myself.

Did you guys know that they're making The Book Thief into a movie? Well, they are. I need to get to the store so I can buy approximately 500 boxes of double ply tissues.

GUYZ, it looks SO GOOOOOD. I watched the trailer for the first time with a friend this morning, and the whole time, we were like this:

RUDY, RUDY, RUDY!!!!!!!! GUYZ, HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE. And Max! And the Hubermanns! Can we make that 1,000 boxes of double ply tissues? 

Movie Night Musings

Upon my return from camp, my family decided to rewatch Schindler's List, which they had viewed while my sister and I were at camp. For the two of us, it was our first time watching the film.

For those of you who haven't seen the film or haven't heard of it, it's a Steven Spielberg movie dealing with the Holocaust in World War II. The plot is centered around a man named Schindler, who employs Jews in his factory in order to maximize profits. The movie is rated R, and with good reason. There is language, nudity, violence, the whole lot of it. Fortunately, nothing is done excessively or with the intention of exploiting the viewer's emotions. The vast majority of the movie is in black and white. The music is beautiful. The acting, the cinematic elements are all superb. In short, it was art.

I told my family after we finished the movie (it took us 3 nights, by the way, watching 1 hour per night) that my dream is to write something beautiful like that, that deals with the human experience and actually matters on some level. I'm not sure that I'm capable of writing The Book Thief, but that will always be my dream. Write something as well as Jane Austen, with the same sense of poetry and character as The Book Thief, and with the artistic nature and sensibility of Schindler's List.

Until then, I'm stuck writing really poor excerpts of a story that I can clearly envision but not seem to put down on paper;oij;MLSBPOIWULKJSDGPiouknlSDVpoaiwulkjasf!!! That was me banging on the keyboard, by the way.


Anybody else seen Schindler's List?