Divergent & Insurgent by Veronica Roth

I haven't fangirl'd like this in awhile:



After greatly enjoying The Hunger Games last year,
this book series kept popping up in my recommendation lists.
Part of me avoided it, because I don't really see myself
as a dystopian fan, per se. They can be depressing, right?

And then, last weekend, my Twitter exploded.
The movie rights have been picked up,
it'll be released next March,
and Kate Winslet has already signed on.

Glancing over at my recent reads and finding only-okay novels,
I had to admit I was craving that sort of insatiable book thirst.
All my friends had given these books four and five stars on Goodreads; that's rare.
Clearly, there was something going on here I was missing.

I drove that night to the bookstore.
One week later, I've read them both.
All 1,012 pages of them.

And guess what? They were right.
Fast read.
Clever story.
Well-written.
Addicting.

I might even like them better than
The Hunger Games.
::GASP!::

I may have deliberately avoided the witchcraft/vampire/zombie craze,
but I seem to have developed a fascination
with the increasingly popular young adult dystopian romance genre.
At 33 years of age, I should probably be embarrassed...
but I'm not.

Oh well.
Seven months until the third novel comes out.
Tick, tock, tick, tock...

But don't just take my word for it;
listen to someone with a YouTube channel!
(But seriously, CassJayTuck is awesome.
Smart and funny is always the best combination.)

Miranda, my therapist

I adore Miranda Hart. Seriously.

For those in the States that have no clue what I'm even talking about, Miranda Hart is a British comedienne with her own self-titled TV show on BBC: Miranda is a 6'1" tall woman with a very athletic build and gets called 'Sir' once too often. She has never been in the popular crowd and struggles to fit in with her old boarding school friends. She finds social situations extraordinarily awkward, especially around men. She is a constant disappointment to her mother who is desperate for her to get a proper job and a husband. Although Miranda owns and lives above the joke shop she owns, she lacks any real capacity for business. She has an immense crush on a university friend who works at the restaurant next door. Despite regularly feeling like a black sheep, Miranda is determined to thrive. She believes in finding the humor in every day life and not taking herself too seriously. The show follows Miranda and her friends as she attempts to achieve the life she's always dreamt of.

Between the three TV series and her new book, Miranda Hart has been more of a therapist to me than, well....a therapist. She believes in simply being yourself, screw social expectations, and it is incredibly refreshing.

Despite not having a supermodel figure, she doesn't hide her body as if she should be ashamed. Despite regularly failing in a spectacular fashion, she gets back up and tries again every single time. While she acknowledges her weaknesses, she refuses to let them hold her back or define her. And finally, she calls things as they are, making her incredibly relatable (and pretty darn hysterical, too!).

However, I think the thing I love the most about Miranda is that, despite all her imperfections, she still wins. She is still a woman in charge of her own life with loads to offer the world. The entire point of Miranda is to embrace and celebrate yourself. Not only can you not possibly be wrong if you're genuine, but we would all be surprised if we realized how not-alone we really are.

Miranda herself is true to that, as well, including facing her fears by accompanying Bear Grylls on a hike through the Swiss Alps. Throw in her ridiculous sense of humor, and she is my own personal hero. And I'm not alone in my opinion. Her popularity has skyrocketed in the UK over the last several years. Everyone loves Miranda!

Homeland

My latest TV interest is unlikely. In fact, I tried the pilot several months ago only to abandon the show immediately afterward. It was dark, it was way too realistic, and frankly, it was crazy depressing. And yet, I continued to see lots of enthusiastic tweets about how great it was by regular watchers whose opinions I admired. After seeing Claire Danes and Damian Lewis win the Golden Globe for the second year in a row (and some healthy prodding from a friend), my curiosity got the best of me. I finally decided to give it another shot.

The element that initially turned me off the show was that it was, in my opinion, mis-marketed. Sure, all the trailers reveal this is a show about someone suspected of being a terrorist. Ooh, spies! Right? But once you get into it, you realize that the protagonist is a deeply flawed individual. I was all ready to root for the well-defined "good guy", but instead, was offered the character of Carrie, who, let's be honest, is a lot to deal with. For me, it went far beyond struggling to find anything in the protagonist to relate to. I downright didn't like her, and just when I thought I couldn't like her any less, she'd make an even worse decision than the last one. Even the show's credits make me feel like I'm having a seizure. It all almost made me give up the show entirely. In fact, Hubs and I had turned it into a pseudo-drinking game of sorts, just to cope with what we understood to be some of TV's most unsettling and frustrating characters.

However, after a major turning point toward the end of season one, as the characters were flushed out and many plot points came full circle, I finally started to get it. And once Carrie gave her monologue on the Beirut rooftop in the first episode of season two, it clicked. I understood the writing, the characters, the entire point of the show:

What if only a single person suspected a huge truth,
but no one believed her because she was bipolar?
And what's worse, what if that person started to mistrust herself
because of everyone else's skepticism?
And yet...what if she had been right all along?
How do you stop a wolf in sheep's clothing
when the only person who can see the truth is mentally unstable?



I wish I had understood that Carrie's meltdowns - and the subsequent anxious peeks into her instability - are actually vital elements to the plot, and not just awkward creative choices from the writers and actors. I understand now that this subject matter, not fully acknowledged until nearly the end of season one, gives Homeland a depth I didn't appreciate before. It's something I wish someone had told me prior to starting the show, so now I'm telling you.

We're halfway through season two now, knowing we still have a few zingers in store for us. That said, however, it's still a very gritty show, so we break it up with episodes of Not Going Out, 'cuz that's how we roll.

(FURTHERMORE: why do shows produced by pay networks have an asinine habit of pushing the envelope in the first few episodes just because they can? It's so stupid, and frankly, it pigeonholes their audience. In order to get to the actual content of these shows, viewers are forced to endure several episodes of gratuitious full-frontal nudity and several hundred f-bombs for no real reason. And yet, every pay network show I've seen abandons their shock and awe tactics after the first few episodes always returning to the content, the stuff that matters. By the time you get to the season finale, you realize you haven't seen a single genital in a long while, and it happens that way every. single. time. Geez, perhaps the edgy fluff isn't actually required to produce a quality show. Hmmmm...)

Les Miserables, song by song

Please keep in mind the following song-by-song review is from the viewpoint of a vocalist, so I'm going to be kinda picky about vocals. Is this film perfect? No. The difficulty for trained singers is attempting to pull ourselves out of the technicality of performing these pieces, because many of us have done just that, myself included. However, I'm not nearly as bad as others!

If you're paying any attention whatsoever to the feedback of this movie, it's all about live singing and lots of crying. I'm here to tell you they're right. What sets this film apart from any other I've ever seen was the real emotion in the actors. These music-fueled, live performances are live and raw and real. It's kind of incredible, and that is it's strength. Even vocalists and Les Mis purists find themselves forgiving weak singing simply because the acting, the realism, makes up for it.

Oh, and this is crammed with spoilers. You've been warned.

Look Down: Visually spectacular. I love the incorporation of the boatyard and the water. The entire beginning provides a good understanding of 19th century France and just how miserable lower class living conditions really were.

The Bishop: Casting Colm Wilkinson as the Bishop was perfect. PERFECT. It wouldn't have been the same without him, and this was a great spot to place his unique voice. This behind-the-scenes video sums it up beautifully:



Valjean's Solioquy: Easily one of the film's best moments. Jackman's best performance of the entire film. I'd give him the Oscar nod for this song alone. As a vocalist, I have no idea how he continued singing while crying that hard. RESPECT. You will cry, too, BTW.

At the End of the Day: A storyline driven song. Shorter and quieter than the stage version, but understandably.

Lovely Ladies: Story-driven, and I liked that. It really shows Fantine's deterioration well.

I Dreamed a Dream: This is the song everyone is oohing and aaahing over. It's also the song in the trailer. Countless Anne Hathaway interviews about why she chose to approach it with delicacy and realism. I understood, but I wasn't impressed...until I saw the whole thing. This might not be the best song vocally, but she acts the crap out of the last half of this song, and she manages to do it while continuing to sing decently. Besides, the version that ended up in the movie was a single take. This one will take your breath away. (Start at 2:50 to hear what everyone is buzzing about.)



Who Am I?: Lots of emotion. Love it.

Fantine's Death: Again, very well-acted by Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman. More lumps in your throat.

The Confrontation: Okay, I'm just gonna say it: Russell Crowe consistantly left me yearning for more. Sure, the film throws in a swordfight to this song for extra drama, but the strength of this song is the argued counterpoint; the vocals need to be strong on this one. I do, however, like that Javert's backstory lyrics are highlighted and don't get hidden away like they usually do.

Castle on a Cloud: Exactly as you expect it to be.

Master of the House: Another confession: I hate the Thenardiers; always have. But at least the film version gives you entertaining antics to watch while you're forced to listen to them sing.

Suddenly: I've read that other stage fans don't like this new addition to the film, but I thought it was sweet and well-performed.

Paris/Look Down: Love Gavroche, as usual.

Stars: Again, falls flat. Russell Crowe seems to have a single vocal dynamic which never changes. To me, this song is morally charged and should be delivered with intention, whether quietly or explosive. It wasn't. Major bummer for me.

ABC Cafe/Red and Black: Once the story moves to Paris, it becomes very clear the students are cast by stage performers, because the vocals improve immensely. Favorites like Killian Donnelly, Aaron Tveit, and Hadley Fraser deliver their sung lines with ease, and I didn't mind one bit.

In My Life/A Heart Full of Love: Amanda Seyfried has a very tight vibrato that distracts me, but that's just a personal thing. Her Cosette is fine enough. Eddie Redmayne's stunning tenor voice and excellent acting, however, make up for the awkwardness. He deserves his own Oscar nod. He's a perfect Marius; today's Michael Ball, if you ask me.

On My Own: Samantha Barks has a decent stage voice; in fact, she plays Eponine on the West End stage and sang the role for the 25th decently enough. But this Eponine felt missing and empty. It was especially disappointing, since this fiesty, lovesick dreamer is my favourite character in the story. Furthermore, On My Own was my audition piece for years. I can feel this character, and she just wasn't all there in the film. BIG disappointment for me.

One Day More: This is one of the songs where you realize these songs were written for the stage. The company-belted One Day More, filled with culminating fervor and passion, is what Les Mis is all about. When you're accustomed to hearing every single person on the stage singing for all they're worth, hearing it sung with any less gumption makes it come across as flacid, especially now that we've all been spoiled by a version with Colm Wilkinson, Ramin Karimloo, Michael Ball, Alfie Boe, and John Owen-Jones on the same bloody stage. The film simply can't compete with that:



Do You Hear the People Sing?: The two things I loved about this one were the visual incorporation of Lamarque's funeral, and the way it starts quietly, yet grows to the anthem we all know and love. It's disappointing they didn't include this song on the soundtrack.

Drink With Me: As expected, the stage boys getting a little limelight. Strangely enough, however, this song, which is usually emotionally charged on stage, isn't so much in the film.

Bring Him Home: On one hand, I loved the emotion. Hugh Jackman's performance gives new depth and dimension to the lyrics. On the other hand, it seemed at the top end of Jackman's range, and not his finest sung notes. It doesn't help that we've been totally spoiled by vocally-perfect versions of this song, especially last year's amazing quartet. I found myself wishing for Alfie Boe's epic key change:



The Final Battle: The film tells the story better, because you can see details up close. It gives the characters and their actions more weight, and I liked that a lot. We also get a tiny snippet of Little People.

Javert's Suicide: See "Stars". Just all-around bummed by Crowe's Javert.

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables: Another of the film's best moments, beginning with a very delicate, accapella opening. BEAUTIFUL. Eddie Redmayne gives an amazingly emotional performance of this classic song while simultaneously singing well. I might even love his Marius more than Michael Ball. (gasp!) Nick Jonas who????



Epilogue: Oh my goodness, just hand out Oscars and Kleenex, seriously. Hugh Jackman's performance pushed me over the edge to Ugly Crying, especially once he can see Fantine. (No Eponine in this version; disappointing, considering that is one of my favourite harmonies in the whole show.) Nevertheless, if you haven't cried yet, this is where you will.

The film takes the ending one step further; Valjean actually stands and follows Fantine out to a courtyard, where a smiling Colm Wilkinson awaits, singing, as the Bishop. (Yep, Jean Valjean himself, standing there singing. I just stopped trying to cover up the snot at this point.) Together, they all walk to an enormous barracade on which everyone who died awaits, singing the final, rousing Do You Hear the People Sing? in the center of Paris.

Seriously, people; ugly crying.

Overall, I kind of loved it. You can feel that it was a labor of love. I will own it when it comes out. And I darn well better see at least Hugh Jackman's name at the awards ceremonies next year, or I might just give up on humanity entirely.

The Hobbit

11 years ago, I was one of those people who was entirely unfamiliar with JRR Tolkien. Despite working at a book and movie store and being up to my eyeballs in regalia featuring Elijah Wood cupping a mysterious gold ring in his hands, I'd never read the book, and I didn't actually see the first film until my boyfriend at the time - now husband - literally sat me down at his parents house, turned the DVD on, and told me to just shut up and watch it already.

Initial reactions included a strong desire for my own Hobbit hole, eye rolls at epic battle scenes, and a major creep factor for the wrinkly, hairless thing. However, by the time the hobbits met Strider in the Prancing Pony, I was completely hooked. Something about the story just clicked, as many before me and since have said about this classic tale. By the time Boromir took his final breath and Sam nearly drowned trying to follow Frodo, I was absolutely mesmerized, tears on my face, utterly distraught right alongside the characters. I saw the subsequent two installments in the theatre on opening day with all the crazy (read: fun), costumed mega-fans.

Peter Jackson's masterpieces have many strengths, from striking visuals to impressively researched understanding of the material. The fact that my husband loves these movies speaks volumes, as well, as the books are some of his absolute favourites, and he is one of the most particular, picky people I know when it comes to book-to-film adaptations. And yet, these have become some of his favourite movies. He still reserves occasional afternoons for 12-hour marathon viewings of the extended versions. Furthermore, these are some of the only films that still make me cry. Over a decade later, and crocodile tears well up in my eyes within seconds of hearing, "...but I can carry you!" These movies, just like their preceding novel, have become classics with mammoth staying power:



Perhaps my absolute favourite aspects of these films, however, are their scores. Howard Shore's compositions are incredible, argued to be some of the best film scores of all time. Symphonies still tour the world playing the entire orchestration live. I personally love them so much, I walked down my wedding aisle to "Samwise, the Brave". And you know what? People LOVED it:



Needless to say, we've had high expectations in this house since Peter Jackson announced a film version of The Hobbit years ago. As beloved actors' names were announced as cast members, as favourite New Zealand filming locations were revealed, and as Howard Shore was named score composer, our anticipation eeked higher. And last Friday, we were among the opening day viewing crowd. I'll admit I was beginning to get nervous, since the early reviews actually weren't so stellar, and the 48FPS thing seems to be throwing people off. Yet, after having seen the standard 3D version last week, my opinion is simple: the movie is wonderful. And here is why:

A) This is a proper prequel, aimed appropriately for where the story inevitably leads. Jackson's sense of continuity is amazing. These films are going to fall beautifully in their place preceding the others. He failed to take the bait of the major changes seen in other prequels (that's right, George Lucas, we're ALL looking at you right now). Furthermore, viewers are immediately reminded of what we love about the other movies, because every beloved aspect is right there on the screen, meticulously placed where it needs to be.

B) The LOTR team once again demonstrates amazing attention to detail, even details Tolkien never actually published outside of his notes, including specified pronunciations that might surprise you. Jackson has said before he means to make film versions that Tolkien himself might actually be proud of, and he seems to be darn good at it, God bless him.

C) Once again, this film is visually stunning and instantly transporting to Tolkien's legendary world. I appreciated that this team never lets technology take over these movies. Just because we can manipulate something on a computer doesn't mean we should. And when they do, they make sure to do a smashing job at editing it properly. They clearly take the extra time and go the extra mile, and it pays off every time. Furthermore, I expect New Zealand tourism to boost once again, because HOT DANG that's some breathtaking countryside!

D) Howard Shore, I love you. No, seriously, I LOVE YOU. He did both things I was so very much hoping for. First, he paid homage to the original scores, because all the original themes are present and accounted for: the Shire, the Ring, the Orcs, Rivendell, Smeagol...he has pulled snippets from all of them into this one, tying them together beautifully. Another nod to continuity. Secondly, he's written a gorgeous new theme for these dwarves. Not only is it beautiful, it is Tolkien-appropriate, initially established with a dwarf-sung version in Bilbo's living room before the journey even begins. (Respect, also, that these are the actual actors singing. RESPECT.)



That simple melodic theme is pulled through the entire film, as they trudge over hill and dale, throughout Middle Earth. And if I may say so myself, the full orchestra version is breathtaking:



E) The casting is better than I thought it would be, and that is saying a lot, as these are already some of my all-time favourite actors. Martin Freeman is a perfect Bilbo. Perfect. I can't wait for his dialogue with Smaug, voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch. (Oh, the Sherlock/Hobbit fan videos that are going to grow out of that!) Despite loving Richard Armitage, I was skeptical after seeing his odd dwarf get-up last year. But guess what: it works. By the end of the film, he's yet another favourite character, despite the weird non-Armitage nose. And once again, Andy Serkis' Smeagol is right on the money, simultaneously playing antagonistic and heartbreaking.

Now that this post is Tolkienesquely excessively long and wordy, the point I attempt to make is: see it, especially if you loved the other three. Perhaps even die hard book-purists can find a place in their hearts for these particular adaptations, because, in my humble opinion, they truly are THAT good.

Do Re Mi

I've been singing again for nearly two full months now. The initial novelty has worn off, and all the conveniently forgotten required effort has come rushing back in full force.

Part of the reason, however, is because this director is good. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, this not-so-well-known community choir is possibly the best group with which I've ever sung. It's been humbling to realize that all the pretigious choirs I've sung with in the past can barely hold a candle to these guys, with absolutely no ego whatsoever. Basically, I'm being schooled. At least I've finished paying off my university loans, or that fact would hurt even more.

I think I've deduced the reason why, though, and that is the drastic change in approach. As a former university vocal music major, I was only ever given a few minutes of old-school scales and breathing exercises to warm up my instrument. That approach seems to have completely changed in the decade I've been out of the loop. From what I can tell, everything is based on the Kodaly method, and boy howdy, it works!

Nowadays, choral singing has become an entire body experience; whole-body kinesthetics are used to help the mind and the body appropriately place the dynamics:

(Start at 1:11)



Ear training is also huge. Forget needing an accompanist to play your scales; you're going to have to figure them out yourself. This is the first time in my life I've been told to think my way out of being off key. To be set up in a diminished seventh chord, then told to rearrange it with no assistance...??? I can just hear my aged German university vocal professor grumbling in his throat. But you know what? It works...and it's freaking cool:

(Start at 2:50)



I've had to memorize the Curwin Solfege hand signs; I didn't even know there were hand signs for solfege until a month ago:

(Start at 1:27)



Seriously, this has been a total mind trip for me. I mean, essentially, this method teaches perfect pitch, something I was always told you either have or you don't.

I also used to think you studied one type of singing or another; styles were too different, and you only approached one at a time. Not with this choir. Our director has chosen a wide variety of pieces, and we're learning all the different styles at one time. Our choir is jumping from baroque to pop to stage to swing and back again, and we're doing it successfully. It has sincerely been some of the most all-encompassing vocal training of my entire life.

And yet, it works, because I'm singing better than I've ever sung in my life. I'm producing a cleaner sound, my breath support is stronger, and even though I've always relied on a decent ear to compensate for my rubbish sight-reading skills, I've also realized how much I have yet to learn.

For this reason, I've decided to hold off on auditions for small ensembles and solos for at least one concert period, if not two. I've only now realized how much catching up I have to do. Rehearsals are already challenging enough. I think it would be foolish - or at least unnecessarily stressful - to have to contend with additional nerves. I am, however, considering asking for a private lesson or two. This is a challenge I wholeheartedly welcome. I can't even imagine what I'm going to be able to accomplish once I finally wrap my head around all this.

In the meantime, I'm up to my eyeballs in preparation for our full-day of rehearsal this weekend, including deceptively challenging songs like Ola Gjeilo's Tundra. This song is so simple, it provides nothing for a choir to hide behind. Every flaw is going to show, so we must blend it perfectly and perform it flawlessly:



Doesn't everyone sing this sort of thing while they clean their kitchen?