(no subject)
Sep. 2nd, 2006 04:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
newmoonstarSo, er...pattern drafting. Tweaking will have to occur before it looks like what I want it to look like, but I remain undaunted.
I finally decided my hand sewing technique was up to scratch enough to finally use my nice silks and satins, and I picked out some really nice stuff for a 1914 doll dress, but the muslin tester dress went really abominablly, so I'm not sure what to do now. Maybe I'll do a Victorian doll dress for my first foray into silks. For some reason, fussy Victorian dresses seem to be my forte!
I hate the Emmys. I always have. I never, ever watch them. This year, however, a combination of boredom and curiosity led to me to watch. Mistake. Again and again, Bleak House, the best thing on TV in ages, was passed over for the worst thing I've seen on TV in ages, HBO's Elizabeth I. Now, I didn't mind when it lost to The Girl in the Cafe, which was actually intelligent and well written, and about something important. But Elizabeth I for crying out loud! More offensive even than it's needlessly graphic violence, was how the writing and the acting all conspired to portray one of the most powerful women in history as a sniveling, simpering, bi-polar nightmare, who alternated between giggling schoolgirl and a toddler throwing a tantrum, and who could not make a move, let alone a desicion, on her own. And then Helen Mirren has the audactity to go on about how important it is to have great parts written for women in her acceptance speech! If she were smart, which clearly she isn't, she would have run from this anti-powerful-woman drivel as fast as she could. But that's what happens when you send a Helen Mirren to do a Judi Dench's job. I'm sorry, but it's just true.
Bleak House on the other hand, is a masterpiece on many levels. Dickens, on account of the thickness of his books alone, is hard to adapt for TV. And even harder to make into good TV for a modern audience, considering the Victorian sentimentality that often creeps in to his books. Andrew Davies, however, semi-divine being that I have always believed him to be, did it admirably. The pacing moves along nicely so you never get bored, and the characters all seem real and plausible, inspite of their usual roster of ridiculous Dickensian names. And the directing is great too, the whole thing seems fresh and modern, without sacrificing any feeling of historical accuracy, or giving in to crass modernizations in the dialogue. And the actors are all fabulous. I even liked Gillian Anderson, and I'm notoriously critical of famous Americans who try to do British period dramas, since most of them aren't up to it at all. She was. The whole thing was wonderful, and doesn't need a bunch of flashy Emmys to prove it. Nyah! ;-D
I finally decided my hand sewing technique was up to scratch enough to finally use my nice silks and satins, and I picked out some really nice stuff for a 1914 doll dress, but the muslin tester dress went really abominablly, so I'm not sure what to do now. Maybe I'll do a Victorian doll dress for my first foray into silks. For some reason, fussy Victorian dresses seem to be my forte!
I hate the Emmys. I always have. I never, ever watch them. This year, however, a combination of boredom and curiosity led to me to watch. Mistake. Again and again, Bleak House, the best thing on TV in ages, was passed over for the worst thing I've seen on TV in ages, HBO's Elizabeth I. Now, I didn't mind when it lost to The Girl in the Cafe, which was actually intelligent and well written, and about something important. But Elizabeth I for crying out loud! More offensive even than it's needlessly graphic violence, was how the writing and the acting all conspired to portray one of the most powerful women in history as a sniveling, simpering, bi-polar nightmare, who alternated between giggling schoolgirl and a toddler throwing a tantrum, and who could not make a move, let alone a desicion, on her own. And then Helen Mirren has the audactity to go on about how important it is to have great parts written for women in her acceptance speech! If she were smart, which clearly she isn't, she would have run from this anti-powerful-woman drivel as fast as she could. But that's what happens when you send a Helen Mirren to do a Judi Dench's job. I'm sorry, but it's just true.
Bleak House on the other hand, is a masterpiece on many levels. Dickens, on account of the thickness of his books alone, is hard to adapt for TV. And even harder to make into good TV for a modern audience, considering the Victorian sentimentality that often creeps in to his books. Andrew Davies, however, semi-divine being that I have always believed him to be, did it admirably. The pacing moves along nicely so you never get bored, and the characters all seem real and plausible, inspite of their usual roster of ridiculous Dickensian names. And the directing is great too, the whole thing seems fresh and modern, without sacrificing any feeling of historical accuracy, or giving in to crass modernizations in the dialogue. And the actors are all fabulous. I even liked Gillian Anderson, and I'm notoriously critical of famous Americans who try to do British period dramas, since most of them aren't up to it at all. She was. The whole thing was wonderful, and doesn't need a bunch of flashy Emmys to prove it. Nyah! ;-D
