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I want to be Capable of Wonderful Things too!


(From Achewood. Click on the thumbnail for full sized wonderful things capacity!)

I've likened Achewood to jazz music before, and I honestly think that's true. There's the glorious and the grotesque, the marvelous and the mundane, innocence and insanity, and it's all kind of blended together with kind of a back beat and some light piano.

I'm in it hardcore, including keeping up with all the blogs of the main characters. And I'm anxious to see what happens with Mr. Bear in the hospital from the gunshot wound, or whether Tina's bitchiness will infect Molly, or whether Molly and Beef are full on over and what happens next with Beef's robot dog or what. But today wasn't about that. Today was a side-riff. Today was Phillipe getting an "I Am Capable Of Wonderful Things" doll.

I loved it. The whole rhythm of Llewellyn Ash giving his erudite explanations and couching them in baby terms, and Phillipe utterly cheerfully playing along, with that certain level of seriousness Phillipe brings to all things... it was perfect.

Last night, my parents watched Pollyana on Masterpiece Theater. It drove me from the room with its unctuousness. But looking at Phillipe, I see what Pollyana should be -- bright and innocent, serious and yet happy, even as truly horrific things happen all around him. And he is delighted with Llewellyn Ash... and yet Llewellyn Ash is itself odd... in a Twin Peaks sort of way. And just like on Twin Peaks, Phillipe just accepts that it is true.

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Comments

The thing about Pollyanna is that all of a sudden it gets horribly depressing. I mean, come on. The movie ends with Pollyanna paralyzed and having given up all hope, and they very pointedly don't really make clear whether she'll ever walk again or gain hope again. It's great!

If you've got a sadistic streak, I mean.

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