Christmas the time of Squeeing
First of all the Hellboy 2:The Golden Armytrailer
which I love for what appear to be evil Elves, or possibly Melniboneans, and Selma Blair looking moody and maybe getting to do more this time.
And then my major squee of the holiday season which is tonight's airing of Ballet Shoes
which was a favourite book of my childhood, a taste for which was firmly disapproved of by my parents as indicating worrying levels of girliness. And one of those books you are scared of re-reading as an adult in case the magic goes away. Actually, what is remarkable about it coming back to it is what a feminist text it is - all about female solidarity and earning a living by being progessional and doing what you want to do. Petrova does the stage work for the sake of the family but is much happier messing around with machines, and presumably went on to have a Good War. She never seems to have gone back to the Fossil family and I found myself wondering what happened to Posy and Nana in Prague, or to Pauline in Hollywood.
The adaptation was a delight - full of major thesps and even Emily Watson was not too dreadful. I liked the fact that it never hid the sheer monstrousness of Posy, whose reaction when her mentor has a stroke is that it will disrupt her training, but who is genuinely That Good a dancer that we forgive her. I also liked the quiet acknowledgement of the lesbian lodgers and the interesting triangle between Sylvia, Theo and the man from Hustle
. I sat in absolute bliss for two hours, which is what I demand of Christmas specials.
And did not get from Voyage of the Damned
even though I was not especially irritated by it. But yes, RTD, we all know that you CAN kill the fat working class multiracial couple, the question is whether you should. And the point that the Doctor cannot change who is saved because he is not god is well-taken, but nonetheless. I liked the sheer quiet niceness of Kylie's Astrid who changed a dull planetbound life for a dull life on a cruise ship, and does the right thing at the cost of her life. She is one of the select group of Great Companions who Weren't - along with Reinette in particular. Maybe someone should write fic for the Lost Companions because they deserve love.
pointed out when I demurred, I am totally a fan of Who
but not perhaps part of the fandom. Just someone who signed on for the ride in November 1963 and comes back still.
More fic than I can quite bear to read yet - a wonderful Third Doctor/Alias crossover from Rheanna here
- Jen pointed out sensibly that Three is the Doctor Sydney would get on with. Also, and no link because this is not exactly a recc, a Yuletide fic that slashes Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore. It's not that I have issues with RPF; it's just that I was there when they first met and it wasn't a bit like that, honestly. I feel very very weird about that one.