I'm a Juvenile Product of the Working Class: Post Grad

Labor Day weekend, I visited my parents and viewed a movie a day with my mom, who not only shares my love of movies, but also my love of going to the same film multiple times.  We subscribe to the theory that if it's good, it's going to keep compelling you.  Day 3 of our jaunt involved the Alexis Bledel vehicle Post Grad, in which a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed college graduate loses out on her dream job and is forced to move back in with her wacky family, while growing frustrated with the lack of opportunities and remaining completely clueless to her hot but platonic best friend's advances.  (Um, where ARE these hot, sensitive dudes who will rub your feet, feed you Eskimo pies and write you songs?  Oh right, THEY DON'T EXIST.  Teenage girls, don't believe the hype.)  Naturally, hijinks and hilarity ensue.

In short, there's a terrific film to be made about the postcollege crisis, when the majority of successful and idealistic kids who have rocked life thus far, get their hopes crushed over and over and over again while learning a little something about themselves in the process.  Post Grad is not this film.

In the spirit of the film, I shall now take on the role of a career counselor and advise its participants:

Alexis Bledel, let's start with you.  I think (deep breath) you need to go back to TV.  Don't get me wrong, I love your pretty blue eyes and gurgly delivery.  I'm old enough to remember your pre-Gilmore Girls career as a teen model.  And of course, your Rory Gilmore possessed an intellectual sweetness that couldn't be denied, especially paired with Lauren Graham's Lorelai--one of the best mother-daughter relationships ever portrayed on screen (big and small).  (With that in mind, don't rule out a reunion.)  This is where your strengths lie, honey--a well-written, cerebral television drama.  Maaaaaybe a sitcom.  No one's faulting you for trying out a movie lead, and before you say Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, I thought you were a lovely Lena.  That said, the Sisterhood films were ensemble pieces.  You don't have the charisma to carry an entire movie, even one that is better written than Post Grad.  You are a TV actress, and TV is so kickass these days, that's not necessarily a bad thing. 

Oh, and one more thing.  Your skin?  Looks terrible.  You have lines in places where twentysomething women should not.  If you smoke, quit.  If you have eating problems, seek help and gain a little weight.  I don't mean to body snark, but you're prematurely aging and it doesn't look good.

Zach Gilford: Zach, I've liked you ever since the pilot episode of Friday Night Lights, when your shy, stuttering QB2 who lives with his dementia-afflicted grandma, stepped it up after the QB1 was unexpectedly paralyzed midgame.  In an ensemble of characters who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, your Matt Saracen was tested the most, and your performance over three seasons has a sympathetic grace.  Can you successfully make the transition to movies?  The verdict is still out.  Your Post Grad role is so wooden and one-dimensional that I want to see you test your acting chops in another film.  A better one.  Call your agent, buddy.

Michael Keaton: Daaaaamn, you've aged nicely.  (fluffs hair and reapplies lip gloss)  So, your Walter Malby degenerates over 90 minutes from lovable doofy dad to borderline retarded subhuman.  Yikes.  But wow, do you chew up the scenery every second you're on screen.  And it's so fun to see you up there again.  Can you re-team with Tim Burton?  I know he's all Team Depp, but I bet there's room for you too.  In the meantime, do a play.  Preferably in Chicago, so we can meet for drinks afterwards.  Granted, I was seven when you made Beetlejuice, but I've been told I'm very mature for my age.

Jane Lynch and J.K. Simmons: Anyone who's seen either of you in, well, anything will not question why you both work so much.  In fact, you both were in two of the three movies I saw that weekend (Post Grad, plus Extract and Julie & Julia).  So can either or both of you just be in every movie and TV show ever from now on?  You have the rare ability to transcend horrendous writing and make the audience smile and yelp, "Hey, it's that guy/gal!"  And J.K., I'm not just saying this because I made eye contact with you at the Crunch in Santa Monica last February.  You were on the treadmill, and I was the dork in pigtails en route to power yoga.

Okay, Rodrigo Santoro?  You will always be Karl in Love Actually to me, and that role was far less creepy, because you were hitting on a woman (Laura Linney) in your age range.  Macking on Alexis Bledel?  Ewwwww.  Dude, you've already established a Hottie Legacy, no need to parlay that into anything other than modeling underwear and doing more Chanel ads.  Preferably while wearing glasses.  Raaar.

Carol Burnett: You comedy legend, you.  I only have one thing to say, and it does not concerned your unparalleled hilarity.  Here goes: FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, STOP PUMPING YOUR FACE FULL OF RESTALYNE.  It stings to look at you.

Hollywood: I've never written a screenplay before.  I could have done a better job with this.  Take that as a challenge and call me.  I'm also available for script doctoring, and I won't even make a stink a la the brains behind Damon and Affleck.  Just pay me.

You, the reader: Don't spend money on this movie.  Wait till it's in the element it was tailor-made for: on a rainy Saturday afternoon on TBS.  That's where it's going, guaran-damn-teed.

Summer's the Worst: (500) Days of Summer

If you've read this blog, well, at all, you are probably aware of my deep and unabiding lovelust for Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I've given shout-outs to his films Brick and 10 Things I Hate About You. In my liveblog of the latter's TV version, I lamented about how I missed him and how his whiny successor just wasn't cutting it.


Why, you ask, am I so into the JGL? Naturally, the physical plays a big part. It starts with that mop of hair, touchable whether it's straight and feathery or venturing into Jewfro territory. Those almond-shaped eyes that radiate intensity. And can we talk about that gorgeous smile? In a completely un-Hollywood way (especially considering he grew up in L.A. as a child actor), HE DOESN'T HAVE PERFECT TEETH. His eyes squinch up and it's unassumingly sexy--a good-looking guy who doesn't realize how very good-looking he is. Most of his characters aren't super-smiley--so when he grins, it leaves you wanting more and more.


Since I saw and then became obsessed with Brick in 2006, I've followed JGL's career--everything from shitty bit parts in Havoc (don't see it EVER, Anne Hathaway is still banging her head against the wall for taking the lead role) to leads in quiet, interesting indies like Manic. I get the feeling that although Joe is not Brad Pitt, he doesn't want to be. This is an actor that could have easily coasted and made a pretty penny in teen movies. Instead, after 10 Things I Hate About You, he quit acting to go to college. (And unlike, say, the Olsen twins, he wasn't well-known enough for this to be a PR move.) Granted, he never graduated, leaving Columbia for the movies after two years of studying French. I feel that's understandable, however--the acting business waits for no one, and not everyone put off taking roles for four whole years. In short, I give most actors who attempt college a lot of credit: they have perspective outside the slick fantasyland of Hollyweird, and they want a little taste of the real, even if they can't stay there forever.


JGL radiates an intelligence and thoughtfulness in both interviews and in career choices. I don't know much about his family life, but it seems like his parents weren't Lohans or Jacksons and kept him pretty grounded. Yes, he's also in G.I. Joe this summer, reflecting the "one for them, one for me" actor mindset. But more than anything, JGL strikes me as someone who doesn't choose roles for the gajillions of dollars or the Oscar potential, but because he finds them interesting. That's cool, rare, and just ups the hotness in my book.


As for Zooey Deschanel, I go back and forth. (And no, it's not just because she gets to kiss my man. Give me a little credit.) I enjoyed her as rebellious Anita Miller in Almost Famous (who didn't love the line, "this song explains why I'm leaving home to be a stewardess"?) and as Sarah Jessica Parker's bird-hating roommate in Failure to Launch. (Oh, sue me. My mom paid.) In the latter, she won me over when she dryly instructed her tweeting nemesis, "Shut up, whore." I even kind of like that stupid hipster-bait Cotton commercial when she traipses about her lovely indie life, selecting vintage banjos and flipping through records in a store with way too flattering lighting. At times, however, she gets on my nerves. I thought she was all wrong for Trillian in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy--though aside from Mos Def, that entire movie was pretty awful. And as a whole, I abhor when someone's perceived as "deep" when the unfocused look in their eyes may very well be "stoned.


That said, it's cool to see a rom-com heroine who ISN'T played by Kate Hudson. Who if the previews are any indication, also has a modicum of intellect and *gasp!* might not make it her life's work to land The One. Who plays opposite a guy who also seems smart and funny, and who isn't Matthew McConnaughey, fake-tanned into frat-boy oblivion. Not to mention that I was intrigued by the tagline, "This is not a love story." Sign me up.


Here's the basic plot: Tom (played by my future husband) is a wannabe architect who works for an L.A. greeting card company. When Summer (Zooey D.) breezes into the office as the boss' new assistant, Tom is instantly smitten. Although Summer may not reciprocate--she confesses that she's not so into relationships (and in the audience, Unpro silently chants: "Amen, sista!")--she and Tom enter into a courtship where they do things like goof around furniture displays at IKEA and yell naughty words in public. They're very happy. Until they're not. When Summer abruptly ends the unlabeled whatever-it-was, Tom is destroyed. Despite warnings from his two best friends and his wordly-wise lil sis (not Abigail Breslin, but I bet they wanted her), he vows to win back Summer's love. But was it ever really love in the first place? The film jumps around in the timeline of Tom's mind (so don't worry, I'm not giving away any spoilers here) to illuminate a twosome that is way more flawed when given a second look.


So, how 'bout we start with what I HATED?

• For a large part of the movie, I actively disliked the title character. Yes, Summer is lovely, dresses cute, and doesn't require a man to get by. That said, she's a TWIT. Oooh, she has bangs! Oooh, she likes The Smiths! Ooooh, she had a relationship with another woman in college! (That last one angered me most of all. Seriously, writers? Stop feeding into the male fantasy. Yes, people experiment in college, but most women who have relationships with other women? They're called LESBIANS. And they don't. like. dudes.) All this would be well and good if she said anything remotely intelligent. And no, I don't consider declaring Ringo to be your favorite Beatle "intelligent." Granted, most of the movie is from Tom's perspective, but at times, Summer came off as borderline retarded. Is this what guys want? Ugh. Ugh. UGH.
  
• Here's my main issue with Summer: girls like her are the bane of my existence. Oh, they walk among us. They crush on the same tall, dark-haired indie drinks of water I do. They win over these guys with quirkiness that trumps mine (because I wear glasses, am loud, hold a real job, and am alternative but not excessively so). THEN . . . they follow whatever sparkly fairy lives in their brain (whereas the spirit of Tina Fey lives in mine, or at least I like to think so) and flit off to whimsically break yet another heart. And then--guess who the mopey guy turns to when he's on the ledge? That's right--chicks like me are perpetually picking up the pieces left in the wake of girls like Summer. And. Boys. Never. Learn.
  
• That said, Tom annoyed me too. Granted, it took longer because it was JGL, but man, the guy was MOPEY. Remember how when you were younger, you thought the emo guys were sooo deep because they were all broody and dark? Then you grew up and realized they were just whiners with no motivation? Yeah, that's Tom for a lot of the movie. The fact that he just refused to get over Summer really, really bugged me.

Then I realized, for better and for worse, that I saw myself in both of them.
Because we've all been Summer. I'm not talking about the aggressive quirkiness and inexplicable charm. I'm talking about the fact that at some point in your life, you take up with somebody who likes you better than you like them. It might be a time where you don't want anything serious, it might be that you like having a warm body next to you, or a little bit of both. And you may very well be upfront from the beginning--that you aren't in it for the long haul. But the other person doesn't listen. And you know it's wrong because they will inevitably get hurt, but you go along with it. Until you can't. And no matter how guilty and awful you feel, there's nothing you can do to make the other person feel better--except get back together with them, and that's not fair.

And we've all been Tom too. We've held on to a liaison for a painful amount of time, swearing this person is The One even when our pals try to set us straight. We've played numerous games of denial, thinking of we just wait long enough or say the exact right words or play the perfect song over and over, everything will be restored to the bliss it once was (or so we think, as we've idealized and fetishized this person in our minds). Scenes from the relationship are on constant repeat, as we agonize over what we did and didn't do to screw it up. And we just will NOT accept defeat, until we are slapped in the face when our expectations don't come anywhere near reality (illustrated in the film with an inspired split-screen sequence).
That's been me. That's been you. And the filmmakers get it beautifully.

It's a fact: most relationships don't work out. I'm not talking about the divorce rate. For every happy ending--whether that's marriage, life-long commitment, or just settling down with a chosen One--there are a million sad endings. And those include the people who eventually find everlasting love--the majority have to suffer through at least one bad breakup. But you know what the great thing about relationships is? You learn. You almost always learn. And by the end of the film, Tom and Summer have learned. Because of their time together, they'll be better. In many ways, that's the happiest ending I can imagine. (Or maybe I'm just really morose. But still.)

This ain't the feel-good movie of the year, y'all. At the same time, it's not depressing either. Sure, it's sad at some points and downright cringeworthy at others. But the word that comes to mind when I think of (500) Days of Summer is this: relatable. The two principals are believable and accessible in their happiness, confusion and heartbreak. You have experienced what they've experienced, in some form or another. And you got through it, right? You'll root for Tom to do the same (the movie is from his perspective), even when you want to smack him to expedite the process.

Also, it's a damn pretty movie to watch. Not just because of the comely leads, but the art direction is phenomenal, the best cinematic eye candy I've seen since Marie Antoinette. The entire color scheme is brown and blue--according to IMDb, it was designed around Zooey Deschanel's eyes, and no matter how you feel about her acting, you can't deny those vivid peepers. Also, the film plays a lot with lines, in both the greeting-card illustrations Tom faces at his day job, and the architectural drawings he favors. Plus, the filmmakers get just how lovely L.A. can be. I remember visiting the city back in 2007, for the first time since I was a kid. I had been warned at what a parking-lot wasteland the place was, nowhere near as glamourous as you would imagine the epicenter of film. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised at the beauty of Los Angeles. Maybe you have to look a little harder, but it's right there waiting.

Finally, I can't hate a movie that appreciates the evocative charm of Regina Spektor, enough to use her songs in two key scenes. I just can't.

My final verdict? SEE IT. You won't be smiling all the way through. You'll recall the anger and frustration of relationships that died a slow and painful death. But by the end, you'll feel better. You'll remember that sometimes we have to survive the bad stuff in order to earn the good. You'll think about it the next day. And the next. And if you're like me, you'll have a very interesting discussion with a like-minded friend.

And then you'll see it again.

Unpro Goes Retro: 10 Things I Hate About You

Normally I won't be reaching into my child- and teen-hood for material: my friends at The Dairi Burger, Dibbly Fresh and other young adult lit blogs are amazing with the snark. That said, a few weeks ago I was enjoying the senseless crapfest that is Grease 2 on ABC Family (don't judge my choice of networks, yo: have you seen Greek? It's hilarious) when a "sneak preview" promo came on. Turns out, ABC Family has remade the late-nineties teen romcom 10 Things I Hate About You...as a series.



Whiskey.


Tango.


Foxtrot.


???????


If this makes sense to you, I IMPLORE you to leave a comment explaining why. I'll listen, I promise. I'll probably argue back, but I will at least hear you out.


Hey, I'm not knocking all movies-turned-TV-shows. It was a little before my time, but M*A*S*H supposedly improved on the original Robert Altman film...and ran for like ten years. I never got into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but if my pals are to be believed, the series excellently revamped a crappy B-movie that I remember watching at a seventh-grade sleepover (and even then, 12-year-old Unpro was not impressed).


Perhaps my favorite example is Friday Night Lights, which even the original film director Peter Berg admits works much better as a series because characters can be more fully developed and themes fleshed out and explored, such as racism, class difference, and the pressure to constantly WIN WIN WIN from a small town that doesn't have much else going for it. (Can you tell that I LOVE Friday Night Lights? I'm also the furthest thing from a football fan you can imagine. Give Season 1 a try, it's wonderful and you can get the DVD box set really cheap.)


But for every film with potential for growth and general awesomeness as a series, such as Friday Night Lights, there's at least five cases of what were the development executives snorting when they green-lighted this? I give you: 1) Uncle Buck, 2) A League of Their Own, 3) My Big Fat Greek Life, 4) Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, and 5) Manchester Prep. (To be fair, the last one--based on Cruel Intentions--was never picked up. Maybe someone went to rehab. Instead, the three filmed episodes were edited together and released straight to video as Cruel Intentions 2. You know who starred in this piece of celluloid brilliance? Amy Adams. So happy that she still got to have a career after that.)


Granted, I was probably a little older than the target audience when 10 Things came out. I can still remember seeing it: I was eighteen, home from my first year at college, and had just eaten Mexican food with two of my high school pals. I was a fan of Julia Stiles--she felt like someone I could be friends with. I was familiar with Larisa Oleynik--my sister had been a fan of The Secret World of Alex Mack--and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who'd been in the Angels in the Outfield remake and appeared to be growing up very nicely. And then there was this Australian newcomer named Heath Ledger who had very bad hair. Seriously--that 'do was AWFUL. Like a stringy dead animal on his head. I mean, I know he was supposed to be a bad boy who didn't care about his hair, but ew.




Brief plot rundown: it's a modern-day, late-nineties version of The Taming of the Shrew set in Seattle. Cameron, the new kid at Padua High School (played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt) falls for cutie-pie sophomore Bianca Stratford (Larisa Oleynik) at first sight. However, Bianca is not only pining for pretty-boy tool Joey (Andrew Keegan) but she also isn't allowed to date. Bianca's obstetrician single dad is paranoid that his daughters will get pregnant, but finally makes a compromise: Bianca can date, when her older sister Kat does. The catch? Kat (Julia Stiles) is strong-willed, opinionated and does things like run her car into Joey's when he insults her. Not so popular in high school. But Cameron and his pal Michael (the hilarious David Krumholz) have a plan: manipulate Joey into paying the personality-challenged Patrick Verona (Heath Ledger) to go out with Kat, so Cameron is free to woo Bianca. (Among the rumors circulating about Patrick: he sold his own liver, knows Marilyn Manson, and spent last year in San Quentin prison.) Naturally, since this is a teen movie, hilarious misunderstandings ensue and romance triumphs over all.
I remember liking it. Not loving it. It was fine, but I liked She's All That better.


I watched it a couple of times in college--same reaction. Then on a random Sunday afternoon when I was in law school, I was at my parents' house and that magic thing happened: when you're flipping channels and you catch a movie right when it starts. I had recently seen Brick and was gaga for Joseph Gordon-Levitt, plus I had a new respect for Heath Ledger after seeing him in Brokeback Mountain and Casanova--two entirely different but equally fantastic performances. I convinced my dad to eschew the NASCAR coverage, and having seen Larry Miller (who plays the dad, Walter) in Christopher Guest movies, he was easily convinced. My mom sat down with us too.


We laughed our asses off.


Granted, my family can recite Sixteen Candles word-for-word. (Even my college-football, trucker dad. ESPECIALLY my college-football trucker dad.) We tend to watch our favorite comedies and Saturday Night Live sketches and proceed to quote them at each other. All the time. We're weird like that.


Weirdness aside, I was pleasantly surprised how well the movie held up (in fact, once I returned to law school, I went out and bought the DVD). 10 Things I Hate About You, here are five things I like about you:

• The age-appropriate cast. I thought everyone was solid individually, but know what really struck me about these guys as a whole? THEY ACTUALLY LOOKED LIKE HIGH SCHOOLERS. Even the notable exception, Heath Ledger's Patrick, got an explanation of why he looked older than his classmates--because he was older, having been out of school for some time. Probably the trick was to cast actors barely out of high school themselves--Julia Stiles and I are the same age, meaning she was about 18 when she played Kat. Interestingly enough, Joseph Gordon-Levitt could still play a convincing high schooler in 2005's Brick, filmed a good six years after 10 Things. (Granted, it was an entirely different kind of movie, but he didn't look out of place at a locker.) (Yes, I love him. Why do you ask?)
  
  
• Granted, we as a public are not fooled by teen shows and movies: since American Graffiti kick-started the genre, we're fully aware that most of the characters are played by legal adults. And we're totally okay with that--in some cases, it's preferable because we can lust after the dudes without feeling pervy. Still, it's refreshing to see young actors whom we could actually picture ourselves roaming the halls with.
• The super-quotable dialogue and kickass delivery. When I was a theatre major, I was once told that an actor is only as good as his or her script. While I don't agree one hundred percent--I've seen films where I thought an actor's stellar interpretation far transcended the horrid text--I do know that it helps performers hit it out of the park. Besides, I'm a sucker for solid dialogue that I can later quote with my parents. Some of my favorite lines (thanks, IMDb!) include:
• Walter Stratford: Hello, Katarina. Make anyone cry today? Kat Stratford: Sadly, no. But it's only 4:30.
• Patrick: What is it with this chick? She have beer-flavored nipples?
• Walter Stratford: This morning, I delivered a set of twins to a fifteen-year-old girl, do you know what she said to me? Bianca: "I'm a crack-whore who should have made my skeazy boyfriend wear a condom"? Walter Stratford: Close, but no. She said, "I should have listened to my father". Bianca: She did not. Walter Stratford: Well, that's what she would have said if she wasn't so doped up!
• Bianca: Can we for two seconds ignore the fact that you're severely unhinged and discuss my need for a night of teenage normalcy? Walter Stratford: What's normal? Those damn Dawson's River kids, sleeping in each other's beds and whatnot?

• Stereotypes, but with heart! Sure, Kat's perpetually angry, Patrick's a personality-challenged slacker, Cameron's a lovesick puppy, and Bianca can only be whelmed in Europe. Plus you have the token best friends--one's a Shakespeare groupie, one is a dork who gets a dick drawn on his face--and the neurotic overprotective dad. Yet, it all works--thanks in large part to a strong screenplay and a charismatic cast. The film respects its viewers enough to explain why the protagonists are how they are: Kat and Bianca's mom walked out when they were younger, and both reacted in different ways. Kat's more outward with her anger, but Bianca's holding onto some residual emotion as well--watch the scene involving their mother's pearls. Patrick may be the bad-boy-with-the-heart-of-gold, but he's got a goofy side which is very appealing (who didn't want to be serenaded on the soccer field after watching him croon "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You"?). Kat and Bianca's dad is an obstetrician who's super-paranoid about his daughters getting knocked up--he's also afraid to let go of the little girls he's had to raise on his own. The best teen movies are the ones who don't talk down to their target audience: they realize that it's a complex world out there for everyone once you're not a kid anymore. Therefore, the best teen movies can be enjoyed when viewers are far out of the 13-19 demographic. 10 Things I Hate About You, at least for me, is among the best teen movies. (And trust me, I've watched a LOT of them.)
  
  
• Chemistry, chemistry, chemistry. Yes, Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles are two crazy smartass kids who make it work. However, I want to concentrate on Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Larisa Oleynik, whose Cameron and Bianca create the sweet kind of romance you always wanted in high school. He learned French for her, by God! And Bianca isn't as dumb as she looks--Cameron sees that and calls her on it with a scathing, "You know, just because you're beautiful doesn't mean you can treat people like they don't matter." Well said, man. And in the midst of him chewing her out for blowing him off--and being exactly right--she kisses him. Yes, the girl kisses the boy! Even in our supposedly progressive times, you still don't see that in movies very often. Not only that--Bianca later punches out Joey for roughing up Cameron. At prom. Right in front of everyone. Rep be damned, the girl's in love. And it's completely adorable and believable.
  
  
• C'mon, it's Shakespeare. There will be controversy until the end of time as to exactly how original some of Will's plays were. Guess what? I don't care. 100% original or not, the guy took some of the best stories in the world and made them palatable and enjoyable for everyone, from Queen Elizabeth II to the grungiest food-throwing peasant. Yes, like any card-carrying feminist, I have issues with The Taming of the Shrew. I also realize it was written in a completely different time, and the ending doesn't translate quite as well today, which is why it's not as timeless as say, Romeo and Juliet (because teenagers will always, always, always fall in love with people they're not supposed to). That said, come on: the premise rocks. Douchebag dude takes a bribe to "make over" an angry chick so that good-hearted guy can bag angry chick's ditsy lil sis. Of course, everyone falls in lurve. Y'all, that's a good story. 10 Things I Hate About You takes that story and modernizes it very well: yes, Kat stops spewing verbal venom, but she also sets out to form a band, thanks to Patrick's encouragement. Bianca figures out all on her own that her awesome dream guy is in fact not the jerk male model, but the bumbling boy who just wants to take her sailing. The dad sees both his daughters off to prom and learns to let go a little. Even the best friends (Michael and Mandella, the latter of whom is played by '90s teen movie staple Susan May Pratt) find nerd-love in period garb, thanks to a really sweet subplot.
  
  
• For my part, I've never understood why some of the hardcore Shakespeare fans loathe re-interpretations. No, they don't always work: I once saw a production of Romeo and Juliet set in some sort of Victorian/Wild West hybrid. Ugh. Several years later, I saw another production of Romeo and Juliet set in a trailer-trash small town. And it was terrific. Shakespeare was all about experimenting and breaking rules--that's one of the reasons why he's so revered and celebrated today. To paraphrase, "Well-behaved playwrights rarely make history." I didn't know the guy, plus he's dead, so I can't say whether he'd put his stamp of approval on modernizations--but I'd like to think he'd be cool. Because you know what a good re-interpretation of a classical text does? It gets people excited. Some of them will be inspired to seek out more of the author's work. Others may go a step further and create their own interpretations. That's what makes art so fabulous: it is in a constant state of evolution. And what's more, the story is kept alive for yet another generation to dissect, obsess over, and love. If you don't believe me, listen to the soundtrack of the musical hit Spring Awakening, which ran on Broadway for two years, won the Best New Musical Tony in 2007, and is currently touring the country thanks to a rabid fan following. Spring Awakening is, in fact, based on a nineteenth-century German play. Yup.
  

I had a revelation while writing this last bullet point: with all my faith in re-interpretations, I guess I should give the TV series a chance. Groan. Okay, I was probably going to watch it anyway. The pilot, at least--I can't promise any more than that. I really do hope, however, that the powers-at-be at ABC Family have taken care with casting, writing, and thinking about how a story with a firm ending will best translate into a thirteen (or more) episode series. Because otherwise, I'm popping in my DVD. Again.