Christmas and the ensuing (and necessary) recovery from a surfeit of turkey (goose without the fat), cranberry sauce (apple sauce for the nouveau riche), mincemeat pies (which are neither minced nor filled with meat), Christmas pudding (mince pies without the shortcrust pastry but with added coinage) and cheap, sparkling Blanc du Blancs or Cava (Epernay for the hoi-polloi) is a time for relaxation, detoxing, sleeping and reminiscing, bathed in the joys of Christmasses past and present and the utter dread at the prospect of the year to come.
It was in this spirit that I chose to engage in a marathon; a marathon of children's films. I cannot, in the normal course of events, last much longer than two hours in front of a TV screen before I start to shake uncontrollably, although I have been known to sit transfixed through all six episodes of the Star Wars saga taken 'back-to-back' but chronologically in the timeline of the saga - makes for a less unsatisfying ending to the tale - or the extended versions of the six DVD collection that is 'The Fellowship of the Ring', 'The Two Towers' and 'The Return of the King, pausing only to go to the toilet, eject and reload the DVDs from the machine and raid the freezer for yet another 'Calyppo' ice or 'Magnum' ice cream (a post- surfeit surfeit, if you will). Some of the DVDs were from my own collection of 'timeless' classics and some from the BBC who have learnt through long experience of the wisdom of showing such films in the morning and thereby ensuring the heartfelt thanks, and loyalty, of parents everywhere who are still suffering from the hangovers, indigestion and chronic lack of sleep which are so much a part of this jolly, festive season.
Watching so many films, with scarce an interruption and in no particular order led to a thought which I have no doubt has occurred to me before but which crystallised so clearly that it was a genuine surprise. Quite clearly, the nature of the films have changed over time; the difference between Disney's 'Cinderella' and the fondly mocking tone of 'Shrek' is palpable however it was not this that struck me. If one of the purposes, if not the primary purpose, of such visual tales is to tell an educational story whereby children learn about the fundamental tenets of the society that we live in, it is how that message has been subtly altered over the years. Whatever the actual plot of animation of the 'Golden Age' of Disney, they all share one common ethos; love will conquer all. From 'Cinderella' and 'Snow White' who, despite their poverty, snag their own Prince Charming, through the 'Sleeping Beauty' and 'Beauty and the Beast' where the only truth is that 'someday my prince will come' to the bizarre attraction of 'Lady' and 'the tramp', which, incidentally, has the most touching moment in any animation - where Lady and the tramp both try to suck up the same strand of spaghetti from the plate outside Tony's.
What struck me as I watched the more recent animations, Shrek aside and deliberately so since it very much harks back to those same Disney films and seeks to turn them on their head, was how loyalty to your friends has replaced love as the prime motivating factor in the characters portrayed. From 'Monster Inc' to 'Monsters vs Aliens'; from 'Toy Story' to 'Finding Nemo'; from 'Ratatouille' to 'Who framed Roger Rabbit', the primary consideration appears to be not letting your friends down. Perhaps the one real exception to this is 'the Incredibles' which, while predominantly about 'family values' can also be seen in this way if one takes the line that the 'super-heroes' are so diverse in the powers that they have that they might as well be friends rather than parents and their children.
Is is possible that this all stems from 'Toy Story' and merely represents a desire by capitalist animation companies to cash in on that film's lasting attraction but it also, I think, reflects a fundamental shift in society's own views about itself. The fairy-tale Princess who finds true love in the face of so much adversity is no longer viable even as a fantasy. When it does serve as a plot device , it is invariably in a mocking or ironic tone; think of 'The Princess Bride', 'Shrek' or more recently, 'Enchanted'. While we may hanker after the quaint notions of a bygone era, which has almost seen the death of the 'romantic comedy' and the 'musical', we nonetheless cannot quite stomach the naive and 'sentimental' without a liberal dosing of sarcasm. O tempora, O mores!
Curiously, amidst all of this childhood nostalgia, I watched a modern day 'Rom Com'; 'Last Chance Harvey' with Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson. I do not know quite why I watched it, although I suspect that it's for the same reason that I watch any Dustin Hoffman film; one day he is going to live up to all the hype about what a great actor he is. The only reason why I continued watching until the end was Emma Thompson's supreme ability to play the 'ditzy' women of a certain age who is continually unlucky in love; much better than Renee Zellwegger or Reece Witherspoon. Actually that was not the only reason.
The film tells the story of a divorcee (Hoffman) who comes to London for his daughter's wedding. As he exits the airport, he is somewhat rude to a women who is seeking answers to a questionnaire (Thompson). Cue subsequent, accidental meeting between the two and long walks until five am in the morning.. The potentially happy-ever-after event occurs at the very end the film. What is strange is that I walked the same walks not two weeks before with a visiting American, although not, I hasten to add, until five am in the morning and not with quite the same ending! Just as happy, though!
In case you have not seen the film and, after my brief review, now have an aching desire to see a greying Hoffman in a suit walking along the Victoria Embankment by the Thames, you have been warned. I have no doubt that there was an excellent film here to be made, some of the improvisational scenes between the two leads are quite wonderful, but these are the film's only saving grace. Trimmed down to a one act play, it would have made an excellent way to spend a quiet, relaxing half an hour; padded with sub-plots and Hoffman's frankly awful, cloying speech at the wedding dinner make of it a fairly interimable ninety minutes.
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