The Woman in Black, a horror movie directed by James Watkins, is about lawyer Arthur Kipps (Daniel Radcliffe) and his ghostly encounters, as he goes through the belongings in an old estate. Rumor has it that anyone who goes near this old home and sees, “The Woman in Black” will bring this curse to the townspeople: she will take one of their children from them, due to her own grief over the drowning of her own son.
The cast was great and all, and the ghosts were creepy enough to make you jump in a dim-lit room. I had a little trouble hearing what the cast was saying at one time or another with the classic, “The music is loud but the voices are soft” issue, especially since there is a lot of whispering near the beginning of the film. Half way through, they speak up.
Now if you’re fine with watching a horror or thriller just for the “thrill” of it, maybe this won’t be an issue, but there were a few plot holes which were left unexplained by the end of the movie.
I was wondering who the “bad guy” was. Every movie needs a driven villian. We’re presented with these creepy ghost-children with no manners, who decide to rise up out of this marsh and trap Mr. Kipps in the creepy old house. Bad children! They don’t actually hurt him though, they just terrify the guy, arguably to the point of insanity- even though another child dies each time he sees the famed woman in black, he decides he should keep returning to the house so that he can figure out what’s going on! This results in the creepiest ceremony with even creepier old toys- is it just me, or were all toys from the “olden days” terrifying? Did kids really play with such creepy, evil-looking trinkets?
Even though the woman in black is one of the main mysteries of the story, she isn’t very well-explained. We learn only snippets of her past, from some very hard-to-read letters and some whispered phrases, but none of it is clear enough unless you read the synopsis online.
So maybe the woman is taking children as atonement for her lost child, or maybe her lost child wants more children to play with, so he kills them and turns them evil.
IMDB rated this movie a 6.6 out of 10. I think that’s fair. It’s not a terrible movie, it just could have turned out much better. It leaves much to be explained, too much. And the ending, oh, that’s just a kick in the pants. You’ll see what I’m talking about if you decide to watch it.
Just met someone who says the poor are all sitting on their butts doing nothing, so they deserve no help from those who can afford to give it. As in all of the poor, a generalization, only black and white without shades of the grey. Doesn’t matter if they have a mental or physical disability keeping them from working. It doesn’t matter if they’ve been abused or abandoned. No other explanation. No job= no effort.
My gosh, is that really what people think? Is this a common belief? This person said they won’t give to the poor because the wealthy have earned theirs, and the poor haven’t earned their share. That attitude doesn’t sit right with me, not at all. It’s selfish. That they really think that this world is full of all fair and equal opportunities, well that’d be the perfect world, wouldn’t it?
Is this a perfect world?
Oh, how it’s far from perfect. We’ve so much to do here. If you ever find yourself without purpose, remember that- there is so much to be done here. Stay curious, stay open my friends. Maybe some things are black and white, but don’t forget the shades of grey that house our shadows.
You should try it! :D IT IS ADDICTING, I WARN YOU NOW!
Hey all you people!
Hey all you people!
Hey all you people, won’t you listen to meeeee?
I’ve discovered a pasta, no ordinary pasta!
This pasta, it is fried linguineeeeeeee!!!
Here’s a recipe. Try it, bring your inner Italian to the surface with this tasty treat. Crunchy!
The steering wheel does not hug back.” — Zara, in Carrie Jone’s novel “Need”.
Two blonde girls, maybe sixteen years old, came to my door yesterday.
“Is this your kitten?” He looked like an orange tabby, with seagreen eyes and a dark orange shape on his forehead. It could have been a skull or a key lock, depending on your mood.
“No, I’m sorry. He isn’t ours.”
“Oh. Because our pa said he was ya’lls.”
I assured her again. “No, we have 5 cats, but they’re all full grown. And they are all indoor cats. They don’t go outside.”
They looked at each other like, “What now?”, and one girl shifted the crying kitten on her shoulder.
“You can call animal control for him if you can’t hold onto him for someone else. Usually you can tell them that if the animal isn’t adopted in a certain amount of time, you can take him back and get him a home.”
They stared at me like I had grown a magnificent purple horn and sprouted wings before their eyes, then broke out into the macarana.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“We went to the other houses on this street, but nobody owned him. We thought he was yours.”
They stood there, shifting from foot to foot.
Later that evening, as I was walking with my aunt and my cousin after a wedding party, my aunt pointed at something.
“Is he hurt?” I saw a small orange kitten hunched down to the ground. As I came towards him, I noticed he didn’t look to be hurt, but he was shaking. I stuck out a hand in greeting, and the small fuzz ball crawled towards me, mewling.
“Don’t touch him, he could have worms or fleas, or salmonella!” Could cats even get that? I wasn’t going to leave a scared kitten out near a hospital parking lot. When my aunt headed back on her own, I told her,
“Alright then, you go get Mark or Mom, and tell them to bring a cat crate.” Once she was a few meters away, I coaxed the kitten onto my lap. He settled as close to my skin as he could get and began to purr, and I covered his shaking body with my hands.
As my aunt’s silhoette faded, I scooped up the kitten and held him against my chest. He started to fall asleep as I started walking home.
Might still be looking for a home for this one, but I might have found one for him. He has had a flea bath (if you heard him, you would think he was in physical pain- but no, just us…kitty claws HURT…). My friend named him “Alf”.
If I see those girls again, I’m just going to ask them pointblank why they left a young kitten to fend for himself. Not only did they dump him, but he was covered in something wet, and the evening breeze could have given him pneumonia. I hate nothing more than the mistreatment of the innocent.
“MR. SATO YOU- ARE A HORRIBLE FATHER!!!”
Wait, no. That can’t happen! THAT CAN’T HAPPEN!!! Amon you jerkwad!
There’s no way it’s permanent then, it can’t be…
Did Amon just firebend? And bloodbend?
“Why would there be fenceposts, but no fence?”
“Guys, don’t walk forward, just throw something in the-“