I'm thinking my resolution for the new year should be to stop watching so many depressing British period films.
You know what they say, a few late nights with languid, rainy shots of the English countryside and Keira Knightly/Kate Winslet/Cate Blanchett in a corset are good for the spirits; but stick too much with the deeply dramatic Brit Lit BBC adaptations and your mood just may end up in the tank.
I don't know if anybody ever actually said that, but they should have.
I love me some Austen, some Bronte, some Dickens---all cinematically retrofitted and beautifully rendered onscreen. But too many serious-themed films all at once? It's enough to make you run for a Nicholas Sparks chicklit movie, which is what I actually found myself doing recently.
A certain awful film based on a certain Thomas Hardy novel put me over the top. I can't take it anymore. When I read Hardy in Honors English my sophomore year, I didn't fall madly in love. Apparently, my feelings for TH haven't changed.
Now my Netflix queue is brimming with darkly dramatic 19th century literary adaptations (British and Russian---it's equal opportunity), and I'm desperate for something a tad less depressing.
It's January and I'm looking for something zippy.
I need a brief winter's respite from the haunting piano/violin soundtracks.