Boom. Out of nowhere my day was just made... The trailer for the new Princess Diana biopic (appropriately called Diana) has arrived. Hallelujah! Ever since one of my favorite gals from Oz was announced to star as the tragic royal, I knew this movie would be goooooooood. Seriously. Naomi Watts is consistently stellar in her roles (she stole scenes in Mulholland Drive, 21 Grams, The Painted Veiland The Impossible, just to name a few) and I can't wait to see what vulnerability, grace, and passion she brings to this role.
There is so much I love about this trailer!! It's like a reel of the "best of Diana" from the last two years of her life-- her charity work, her role as a pursued globetrotter, her fashion, and her human-centered approach to everything she did. The Elton John-esque score only adds to the awesomeness.
Coincidentally, 2013 is the year of princesses. Another princess biopic (really, there's no such thing as too many princesses) has its eyes firmly on the Oscars with a holiday 2013 release date. Watts' bff and fellow Aussie Nicole Nidman will be starring as the twentieth century's other much-loved, much-tragic, much-iconic royal starlet, Princess Grace of Monaco. While we're still waiting on a trailer for this slice of cinematic joy, here's a fabulous teaser pic.
Holy. Guacamole. If that's not perfect casting, I don't know what is. Olivier Dahan, the French director behind this flick is no novice to biopics. Remember that strange and beautiful biopic about Edith Piaf, La Vie en Rose? Yup, that's Dahan's handiwork. He directed the brilliant Marion Cotillard to a much-deserved Oscar win. So, perhaps Nicole Kidman will also benefit from his genius? (Not that she needs any help on that account.) We shall see.
Regardless, if Diana lives up to its potential (though its late-summer release date dampens that prospect, unfortunately), we could see not one, but two princess flicks bitch-slapping it out during awards season. What fun!!
Caution: spoilers below! If you haven't seen episode 3.9 of Game of Thrones yet, don't read on unless you want to be bitterly disappointed. Also, if you haven't seen episode 3.9 of Game of Thrones yet, what the hell are you waiting for???
Friends, Fans, Comrades: I've come to bury the Starks and to praise them. Last night, we, the dearly devoted fandom of dire wolves and dragons, imps and hands, witnessed one of the most heart-wrenching, soul-crushing moments in television history: the Red Wedding. On what was supposed to be a joyful occasion, goodwill turned to barbarism as Robb Stark, his wife Talisa, his mother Catelyn, and countless Stark bannermen were brutally murdered by Freys and Boltons. Robb Stark, the would-be King in the North, was a miscarried avenger, whose mission to bring the Lannisters to their knees for what they did to his late, great father Lord Eddard Stark was cut tragically, unjustly short. GAME OF THRONES, WTF.
Other bloggers will break down the excruciating (but brilliant) episode for you. And smug fans of the novels will obnoxiously brag and gloat about their knowing about the event for years (as if they have ownership over the story). I could talk about the use of haunting music (with a member of Coldplay in the band), the expert narrative flow, or the stellar acting. But it wouldn't feel right; it wouldn't feel human to talk about these things. I don't know if I'll ever shake what I witnessed last night: the shock and horror on the face of a pregnant woman who was stabbed repeatedly, deeply in her stomach; the rage and grief echoing in the hoarse screams of a woman who has buried her husband and watched as her own son was struck down like a wild boar cornered in the woods. THIS. WAS. TOO. MUCH. I'm a loyal Game of Thrones fan and will remain one until the series concludes. But, last night was brutal. These images will haunt the rest of the show, shaping how I approach, react, and interpret every episode, every character, every twist.
With this in mind, I will watch each episode with a wary, scarred skepticism (which is probably what that insensitive jerk, George R.R. Martin, wants). What will they do to the characters-- and to me, the viewer-- next?? The show's producers keep one-upping themselves. First, Ned Stark's death was a beautifully executed tragedy. Now, his son is mercilessly slaughtered, along with his pregnant wife and long-suffering mother in what was supposed to be a "safe" situation. If they keep one-upping these death scenes, what's next?? Will Joffrey strangle Margaery to death with (God forbid) the umbilical cord of their unborn child? Will Danearys be drawn and quartered while her insides are consumed by a flock of three-eyed ravens who came in the night?? Whatever the producers have in store for us, I can guarantee you two things: 1. it ain't pretty, and 2. I don't know if my heart can take it.
I don't know about you, but I need to reverse this TV depression. That's why I'm returning to the best scene of this season and, arguably, the entire series thus far: the moment when Danearys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, and a list of other badass titles, became an emancipator and unleashed her dragons. I admit it: I will always be a Stark through and through, but I've got to back a new horse in this terrible, bloody race. Since my king is dead (may the old and new gods grant him peace), and though I will always hold his memory sacred, I need to find a new champion. Dany, I'm looking at you. Take the throne and kill the brutes. But she won't be alone in this quest-- I hope that Arya, my favorite spitfire, gets her moment of vengeance. When she brings death to the murderers, I hope it's gruesome and glorious.
But, until that moment comes, I will watch this on repeat to keep my wounded spirits up.
