The sporadic ramblings of Emily C. A. Snyder - devoted to God, theatre, writing, and much randominity.

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Location: New York, New York, United States

Artistic Director and Co-Founder of TURN TO FLESH PRODUCTIONS. | Author of "Nachtstürm Castle," "Niamh and the Hermit." | Playwright: "Cupid and Psyche," "Math for Actors." | Classical director and educator.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


Oui. Je sais. C'est moi. D'accord, maintenaint j'ecrire:

  • Happy St. Valentine's Day! No, I am not among the denizens of gothic black-wearers or bitterly resigned red-wearers or flighty pink-wearers nor even sanctimonius "Cyril & Methodius forever!" white-wearers. I'm wearing yellow. And a daisy in my hair. And, as I was trotting across the street for some well-deserved lunch, and I saw one far-too-old boyfriend walking in with a dozen long-stemmed roses for his entirely-too-young girlfriend (and inwardly I groaned and rolled my eyes), I realized that regardless of the Hallmark abuses strewn around this holiday, on general principles I'm really rather glad of a holiday that celebrates love.

    Now I'm sure that naysayers will point out that Valentine's is just a leftover pagan holiday meant to shack up and ergo we ought to spurn it for good old C&M (who, please don't believe I'm denigrating). But that's hardly Christian, either. The whole point of the New Covenant is that it purifies us. That we are freed to celebrate the virtues grounded in truth and not just in desire. If anything, as Christians, we ought to reclaim Valentine's day and wave about our red anatomically-incorrect hearts and dance a polka on a table-top crying out, "Thank God, thank God for sanctified eros! Three cheers for marriage! Huzzah for family! Happy day that I had parents! Happier day when I became a parent! Happiest day when I meet my true Father in Heaven!"

    To spurn Valentine's (as it ought to be, and not as Victoria Secret wills it) is to spurn an excellent opportunity for the restoration of the family and holy matrimony. So I'm wearing a daisy and a bright lemon shirt for hope and joy, I think. And yup, I've got a box of chocolates from me muther in me lunch.

  • So I finished Veronica Mars (nearly wrote Marx - huh, how interesting would that have been?) and am of several minds about it. In no particular order:

    1) I've been dreaming in Marsian for the past week since finishing it. This is totally unfair. I've been watching the far superior Lost and the far funner Dancing with the Stars for far *longer* than one season of VM on DVD. But I'm dreaming about 09ers. Go figure.

    2) However, perhaps part of the reason I've been so dreaming is because Lisa Rinna from Dancing with the Stars plays a small but crucial part in VM along with her real-life husband as the parents of Logan, who, I will admit, I'm rooting for. Even despite...

    3) The post-modern anti-Valentine's gahishness of: "Our two leads we have brought to a place where they kissed in the heat of a moment, and even better in the heat of a moment when Was-Jerk-Now-Questioning-Purpose-of-Life-Logan comes to save our girl wonder. What next? Hmmmm. A season full of Austenesque romance? Continued Hitchcockian a la North by Northwest or Charade drama? Much awkwardness and romance and suspense and betrayals and assumptions and revelations to keep this show going forever??!?!?!? Nah. Too much work. Let's stick them in bed. Or near to it. That'll be our big mystery! Yeah! When will Veronica and Logan shack up?"

    Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Hmmm, not emphatic enough. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Let me remind you of rule #1 re: planning out a drama/blocking/plot/etc. The story is over as soon as the main characters come together. That's it. The scene is over as soon as the characters come together, either emotionally or physically. There's nothing more to watch. We've seen the conclusion. We know the end of the equation. Good. Done. Next! It's not only bad morality (which is obvious to most but not, apparently, to producers), it's also bad plot (which should appeal to the producers, even if they're heartless). Meh. Blaugh. And I was liking VM 'til they skipped several seasons and jumped right to making out on a bed. Oh, silly, silly writers and producers. You're smarter than that! *sigh*

    4) At least, I think they're smarter. As an overarching mystery, VM didn't quite live up to the rules of mysteries. The rule is that a good mystery has all the answers right there in the course of the plot. Right out in the open. Only, no one connects them until the end. At which point there is much wailing and slapping of brows. A great mystery, has the solution right out in the open in the first scenes - and manages to hide it in plain sight. VM didn't manage to give us the crucial piece of mystery as to the Lilly Kane murder until the last episode. Bad plotting.


    The bad plotting could have been easily fixed anywhere in the season. But most particularly as soon as we introduce Logan's dad (whodunnit). Where was Logan's dad saying anything about Lilly with just that half-smile that makes us THINK he's merely a lecherous lout and not realize that he's already past the lecherous lout stage. Where is the clever dialogue - perhaps Biblical in nature - Logan: "Lilly Kane, dad. Don't you know her?" Dad: (caught off guard) "Oh..." (with a nasty private grin) "Yes." OK not the greatest dialogue ever understand. Or we should have seen in the episode when we learn about the Dad's infidelities the guest house and the video bank. And then in a flashback Lilly should have mentioned something about the sheets on the guesthouse bed - and then maybe Logan or Veronica would have said something about how they've been keeping pure lately so how would Lilly know.... All sorts of hints. Or something Dharma Initiative on a Shark-like, where Dad has a pendant of Lilly's or vice versa - class ring, I don't know. If this were olden days, a monographed handkerchief that we all think is Logan's but is his Dad's.... The list goes on. Instead in the last episode we get the crucial info we need. And we learn that all the other info we've had have ALL been red herrings.

    And as a side note, I certainly hope that in season 2 they deal with Logan's aftermath. A mom who committed suicide and a dad who killed one's girlfriend AFTER having an affair with her? Gotta leave a scar. On another side note, an "overturned bus" overarching plotline seems a kind of downer after such a Roman Imperial saga as season 1. Yet another reason why, even if you're concerned that your show's not going to get picked up for a full season, one should have the plot line for a mystery already completely done up. Oi!

    OK. No more spoilers.

  • In various and sundry news, I've actually figured out how to burn working DVD's from my computer without any ill-effect. Finally, the software is working the computer's not crashing and everything is hunky-dory. Now, if only my sideways reading skills were better and I hadn't mistyped "chapter" as "chaper" for the first fifteen covers.... Ah ca.

  • I have the Merry CD on. Oh, symphonic bliss. Currently, the Love Theme from Star Wars. "Happiness...with five fingers...." (What was that play called?)

  • The Riverdancing Nutcracker in the middle of the chase scene for Matchmaker makes my day. Yay for zaniness.

  • Visiting the Savoyards last night was a treat. So many friendly faces. I'm very much looking forward to teching the show. Even if it's wardrobe or whatnot.

  • Due to the way my windows are positions directly opposite the screen, I can always see who's walking by my classroom while I'm at the keyboard. How very sneaky of me.

  • Mah Jong is ridiculously addictive. Particularly because it's ridiculously difficult to consistently win. The inner game-board card-shark competitive streak of my Father's DNA rises to the surface.

  • I like dancing. Although singing while doing a high energy dance, not so much. Nor doing pair dancing solo. One looks a little foolish doing swing moves with an invisible male. But still, 'tis muchly fun.

  • On that note, I sincerely hope Happy Feet is as good as its trailer makes it out to be.

  • BestBuy helps slacking subscribers re-up their weekly dose of Entertainment Weekly. Just another reason why BestBuy rocks my socks.

  • St. Theresa of Avila wrote Interior Castle but perhaps I ought to write Interior Classroom. What does it say about small town living (even if one technically lives in a city; Marlborough has no skyscrapers, I don't believe its urban claim) that half my students do know where I live? And I know where they live? And I send them on errands to my house to pick up my video camera to begin the behind-the-scenes footage for Matchmaker. And I can't go to OfficeMax, BestBuy or the supermarket without seeing a student past or present? It's a good thing I got over my fear of seeing students outside of the classroom my first year of teaching. They're everywhere. (Which, however, means that speeding and going to see questionable movies become non-issues because one has to watch what one's doing At All Times.)

    And now, I must go. Virtue presentations time.

    Mood: Pas mal.
    Music: The Funeral Dance music off the Merry CD.
    Thought: I love my kids, but they are loud.


    Blogger Lauryl said...

    Another visit to Emily's blog leaves me highly entertained... although where you find the time to write so much I don't know. Glad to see you cheerful and updating, Em! xoxo

    11:03 AM  

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