pantryslut

I saw Corpse Bride last night.

Entertained myself on the commute to work by rewriting it in my head in order to pass the Alison Bechdel movie test (the one where two women must have a conversation with each other about something other than a man).

This is after I rewrote it over the phone with G. last night to balance the Victoria/Emily equation, because, you see, if you develop Victoria a little bit more, let her assume some actual autonomy (instead of thwarting it re: the priest), then Emily's end seems less tragic to us fans of the monstrous feminine (tip o' the hat to

final_girl's discussion of the movie in her own LJ). This is still problematic on a theory level (like, such a rewrite implies that all brides are functionally equivalent and more or less interchangeable, and one of the charms of the movie is that these two are not), but it would nonetheless feel more emotionally satisfying.

In other words, I liked it, but I did not love it. Nevertheless, Steven and I are threatening each other with the idea of watching it every year on our anniversary. I think he wants to mostly so he can sing along.