*Cheesy Novel Turned Into Cheesy Movie. News at 11

Today I have a V.C. Andrews headache.

I haven’t picked up one of Andrews’ books for about fifteen years. (If you are doing the math on how old that makes me, you can stop right now dammit.) Well, if you want to be technical, I have picked her books up but always quickly put them back down before I am spotted with any of them. It’s my husband, you see. He’d laugh at me until tears rolled down his face, and after that he wouldn’t have to pretend to respect me anymore. Pretending to respect each other is what keeps our marriage strong and healthy. This is why I have to keep certain urges for cheesy goodness secret from him.

But, today I had the house all to myself, and wouldn’t ya know it, a movie adaptation of Andrews’ Flowers in the Attic came on television. Woo hoo! I was all over it. I got me a soda pop and settled in. Only thing better would be maybe a Little House on the Prairie marathon on TBS.

Anyhow, the movie wouldn’t have been bad except that the director felt the need to convey how haunting the subject matter was by playing, well, haunting music throughout. You know, for melodramatic effect. That would be fine and all, but this was done in such a way that it detracted from the drama itself.

Case in point. The story is about four kids locked in an attic. Dramatic subject matter, right? Well, when I actually find myself concerned about the soprano they got to do the arias straining her voice or breaking my soda glass instead of worrying about the starving kids on the screen, maybe they’ve overdone it just a bit on the background vocals.

I swear I kept thinking, “For the love of God, someone get that woman a lozenge. That had to hurt.”

It’s like a the whole laugh track concept, I guess. Bad sitcom? Make sure the audience knows it’s supposed to be funny by having other people laugh. Bad drama? Have an opera singer howl every time the audience should feel anxious.

So, anyway, I guess their plan worked on me . I’m going to take a couple aspirin and go watch the end of it, if only to find out the name of the soprano they got. She had a tough gig, and she screeched through it like a trooper.

*Never fear. My Aspercreme post is still in the works, but this isn’t it.