This is It?

We started Netflix back up this week, after a 3 month break, and boy, have I been enjoying it! 

We resumed service on Wednesday so we could all watch the movie musical "Annie," since Merry and Sunny are in a production of it this fall.  For the past couple of years we have participated in an amazing local class that puts on musicals, one in the Fall and one in the Spring.  Twice a year is too much for me, but the Fall has been just perfect for this weekly activity, and so the girls have been in "The Muppet Christmas Carol" and "Tom Sawyer," both excellent stories, with great music.  And the way the director Candy stages these is just so, so cool:  she breaks up the script as necessary so that any kid who wants a speaking part can have one, she stages the scenes so that all the kids are on the stage all the time (sitting to the side if they are not "on"), and all the kids sing all the songs, so there are no "stars"--ALL the kids are the stars of the show!  And she is so patient and yet expecting a lot of the kids--esp. behavior-wise--which I really respect.  The cost of the semester is so reasonable--I think it is about $160, which breaks down to less than babysitting would cost.  And they provide small slices of pizza and lemonade for the kids before rehersal every single time.  Best of all, Musical Mondays is an approved vendor, so our homeschool charter pays for it!

Anyway, while I was SO excited for my girls to be in "Annie," I hesitated to show them the original movie we all know and love from childhood.  I saw it as an adult a few years back, and was astounded at its adult content.  That and I had horrifying mental pictures of my sweet darlings emulating the hard-knock, smart-mouthed orphans.  I checked out youTube songs from the newer (I think 2009?) Disney version, but it looks like it just cannot compare in quality of set, choreography, acting, etc. It has been nicely sanitzed, though, for those like me who are uncomfortable with Carol Burnett's brilliant but drunk and slutty turn as Miss Hannigan.


But yet, I would rather my girls see the gritty, well-done story than the watered-down, trite version.  So I just talked with the girls ahead of time about what happens when you have a houseful of orphans who don't feel loved, and a lonely woman who feels trapped, and how they are stuck in a negative cycle of unlove fueled by their own self-serving and self-pity. . . and my girls know about the dangers of alcohol and how some people use it to try to escape their hurt, and how Miss Hannigan is desperate to be rescued from her life by a man, any man. . . ANYWAY, after I set the stage, so to speak, I was no longer worried about the "adult" aspects of the original Annie movie.  

Then last night I indulged my tired brain in a whole movie all to myself. (DH was supposed to be working on the laptop, even if I kept turning around to find him watching over my shoulder, even if he could not hear without his headphones.)  I watched "My Left Foot"--so good, and the visuals are riveting in their realism (1930's Dublin).  I am pretty sure at one point the main character mentions that his mother bore 22 children, and 13 survived.  (The scene with all the kids of varying ages and genders sleeping peacefully while crowded into two beds in the same room made me so happy.) 

Tonight I did not want to get involved in a long movie, but just wanted to watch something for half an hour while I ate dinner (everyone else had been taken care of tonight).  So I did a quick browse through the Netflix "Watch Instantly" new selections, and saw "Th is Is It," the post-humous documentary on what would have been Mi chael Ja ckson's comeback tour.  I had heard it was well made, and I have always been curious about the hype, so I thought, "Why not?"

I had to turn it off after less than 10 minutes (including the opening montage).  Just from those first minutes I was put off/saddened by:
--the cult of personality reflected in the clips of interviews with the stage dancers, many of whom traveled from other parts of the world to audition, and who were ALL crying and effusing about how dancing with Mi chael was the pinnacle of their life, and even the purpose of their life. 

--One dancer disturbingly said he had always tried to live his life to be like Mi chael in every way. . . let's hope he did not mean in Mi chael's self-mutilating and pedophylic ways. . .

--One sobbing dancer could have been crying out to Jesus (and should have been) in how he went on about how he had been looking for something to give his life meaning, and This Was It. . . I hope someone has been following that young man since the making of this documentary--a suicide risk if I ever saw one.

--Speaking of Jesus, the white lights beaming down from heaven with awe-inspiring chords when the movie title was announced was clear deification of Mi chael. 

--I did not expect perfection, esp. for a 50 year old man who had not performed in 10 years, but the *first* number they started the documentary with--which one would assume would be terrific, to immediately grab the viewers' attention and showcase the deity who just had that big buildup--showed Mi chael was out of shape and breathless, quavering in vocal quality (and I'm being fair--this was when he was standing still), and fairly limited in his dance range.  Yes, he has a lovely tone in his voice, and can still move like he is made of well-oiled ball bearings--but that's it.  They even had to cut between two different tapings of the same song to get that good of a performance.  And yes, I realize a rehersal is never the same energy as a life performance--but if this is the number they are using to start off the movie. . . I assumed that was about as good as it would get. 

--The shots of the crowds lining up to scream his name and yell "We love you, Mi chael!!!" when he last performed in London (where this was filmed) were so sad.  All the people in the shot were white, middle-class people of my generation or a little older.  What is behind such unhealthy adoration?  I get why black Americans love him--Mi chael Ja ckson was not only an excellent songwriter and singer in his early career (I can't speak much of his later career, but the album "Thril ler" really was brilliant in many ways--speaking as an unbiased adult, since I did not listen to it as a teenager) but he was the first black performer to break into the pop charts--and, for a season, to dominate them.  He really was groundbreaking, and his music influenced so much of the bands and sounds that came after.  But I don't get why the black community still loved him, after he "de-blacked" his appearance.  Why defend so loyally one who does not seem proud to be one of you?  Or after he got into so much trouble with young boys. 

--And that's the final thing that just made me sick to my stomach.  His appearance.  Mi chael Ja ckson was a really good-looking young man.  Black and handsome.  So to see any remotely close shot is truly revolting to me--his face must be an extension of his soul, and what a corpse of a soul, so defined by self-loathing and masquerade.  I want to like Mi chael Ja ckson.  I like so many things about him, and truly believe he was a gentle man at heart--but one whose beauty and gentleness and creativity were perverted by something inside. . .

So I guess it was ultimately sadness that made me turn it off.  I can appreciate musical genius, even if I don't like its expression (watch out for my La dy Ga ga rant!), and I have much patience for performers past their prime.  But all the wasted emotion, energy and purpose going into worship of a tired, troubled singer. . .

That's it.


(I am learning about web searches, and am clearly terrified some Mi chael Ja ckson fan is going to stumble upon this post and leave me (I accidentally typed "heave me," which would also be accurate) some hate in the comments. : O)