377 days - Blog #89 just the way we are

So last night I really should have gone to bed, knowing full well I had to get up and get going this morning.  Instead, I found myself back on Netflix without any real determination to watch anything in particular, just a determination to not be a responsible adult pursuing a good night’s rest.  To make sure I lingered even longer in that procrastination, I decided to watch Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.

Now, I can’t say I really liked that movie.  I seem to recall being disappointed with it for making light of some of the more serious elements of the novel (a prison in Thailand for instance).  And I never really, truly accepted the casting of Renee Zellweger in that part so soon after reading the books.  But I read those books 14 years ago.  Right before I lived in London. It was a way to learn the lingo before I hopped the pond.  I was almost too young to understand Bridget’s neurosis at that point… but not too far away from it.  The first movie was still playing in the Piccadilly theater when I went to the London Film Festival to see some artsy piece about Wordsworth.  And even though it was Hollywood-ized, in the years since I have gone back to it to remember the streets and bridges and signs by which I loved to walk on my Saturdays.  Plus the British accents.  Plus, okay, yes, Colin Firth.

I haven’t re-read the books since 2000.  I have watched the movies a few times, so eventually I forget all the things I didn’t like about the casting… and Renee Zellweger has become Bridget to me.  Sort of.

Now, I’m not really one for paying attention to Hollywood stories any more.  I used to eat that stuff up.  I would read the ‘news’ section on imdb every single day.  Now, I find it boring.  Or worse yet, just so full of malice and shallowness, I don’t want to bring myself down by indulging in it.

Clearly, I don’t have a strong opinion about such things.

Although, that strong opinion did not stop me from clicking on several links about that actress this week.  Whether it was a comparative photograph or backlash against the backlash or whatever, I tried not to form judgment in my brain.  It isn’t my life.  I CERTAINLY don’t have a right to pick up any stone to throw from the glass house of physical appearances… but something about it makes me very, very sad.

To be fair, I was already very sad this week anyway.  So maybe we can call it heightened sensitivity.  But all I kept thinking about was that sentence Mark Darcy utters, “I like you just the way you are.” And much though I adore Bridget Jones for its London nostalgia, that sentiment is what stays with me about that story.  It is something I like to think about when I start beating myself up for my own shortcomings.  It is a message I wish more stories employed with such blatancy.

And then I remembered why I was so unhappy with that casting choice.  I mean aside from the fact I knew of so many brilliant British actresses… it was the fact that Bridget had a bit of the average to her.  She wasn’t stick thin… and yet they hired an actress who gained weight for the role.  Instead of casting an actress who looked healthy on a regular basis.  That still bothers me.

Especially because it completely undercuts that sentiment.  It’s okay for the actress to be lovable just the way she is until it’s a wrap.  Then to be loved again, she had to fast track it to lose those extra 30 or whatever pounds.  I know this isn’t a great discovery, but it just goes to show that movies lie.

Whatever.  I don’t really watch movies all that much these days.  Except, apparently when I don’t feel like dragging myself to bed when I really ought to get up the next morning.  

Instead, I go to the theater.  Almost all of it is local, community theater.

And when I finally shut off the movie last night (just before that disappointing interpretation of the trip to Thailand), that’s what I started thinking about.  There was a time in my life – indeed, the time I went to London when I thought I would like to work in film.  I had already cast off any ambitions of being in front of the camera at that ancient age of 25.  I did my internship – even had an opportunity if I wanted to make use of it at the end of 2001, but I was so grossed out by how shallow and vapid and stuck on appearances everyone was.  So I came back and did theater.

Now, I’ve met my fair share of shallow and vapid theater people at the local and community level.  But I’ve also seen and experienced the fact that local theaters give women (and men) of all sorts of appearances a chance to be an actor.  There are times when women are judged… but it is a venue where an artist can explore her soul without having to worry about the lines on her face or the size of her waist.

Are they performing for massive houses in a show that tours throughout the country?  No.  Are these shows sellouts that make the front pages of newspapers?  No.  But… those audiences applaud and take the journey right along with them, liking them… liking me… for who we are in that moment.

And that… that is a thing of true beauty indeed.