I came home the other night and Art Boy had put "It's a Wonderful Life" on. Yes, gentle readers, it was time once again for our recurring argument: Bedford Falls vs. Pottersville. It runs along these lines (and can be blamed in large part on Salon's marvelous article on this topic, which I read a couple of years ago and which completely horrified Art Boy):
Me: Pottersville rocks! Look at those great bars. Bedford Falls is full of nosy old biddies who are all up in your face all the time.
Art Boy: Pottersville is a city of the damned. Bedford Falls is great!
Me: I don't want to live in a city where I have to share a bartender with a doddering old guy who orders flaming rum punch. Look, wouldn't it be fun to go to one of those jitterbug places?
Art Boy: Bedford Falls is friendly. Pottersville is scary.
This year I got particularly worked up by the swimming-pool scene. "Bedford Falls," I ranted to Art Boy, "is the kind of city where the floor opens up underneath you and NOBODY SAYS ANYTHING. You just dance right toward the edge and everyone goes 'Oooh!' and nobody warns you." Art Boy ignored me and did his patented imitation of the school principal diving into the pool. I don't know, gentle readers. I might just not get this movie.
But I'm pretty sure Annie Korzen does. Merry Christmas, Annie! Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter! And Merry Christmas, gentle readers. Check out the gorgeous moon tonight, wherever you are, and don't miss Mars shining nearby. I hope you will all be safe, happy and well.
Me: Pottersville rocks! Look at those great bars. Bedford Falls is full of nosy old biddies who are all up in your face all the time.
Art Boy: Pottersville is a city of the damned. Bedford Falls is great!
Me: I don't want to live in a city where I have to share a bartender with a doddering old guy who orders flaming rum punch. Look, wouldn't it be fun to go to one of those jitterbug places?
Art Boy: Bedford Falls is friendly. Pottersville is scary.
This year I got particularly worked up by the swimming-pool scene. "Bedford Falls," I ranted to Art Boy, "is the kind of city where the floor opens up underneath you and NOBODY SAYS ANYTHING. You just dance right toward the edge and everyone goes 'Oooh!' and nobody warns you." Art Boy ignored me and did his patented imitation of the school principal diving into the pool. I don't know, gentle readers. I might just not get this movie.
But I'm pretty sure Annie Korzen does. Merry Christmas, Annie! Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter! And Merry Christmas, gentle readers. Check out the gorgeous moon tonight, wherever you are, and don't miss Mars shining nearby. I hope you will all be safe, happy and well.
4 comments:
Oh, dear.
Of course Pottersville looks like fun. That's how they get you!
Pottersville has no time for anyone who's got less money than Potter himself; what little money you have will disappear into the casinos (I think I'm just assuming there are casinos) and bars. In Pottersville, your only choice is to become a hooker or a homophobic barkeep.
(I just thought of a vague analogy comparing Bedford Falls to "liberal utopia" and Pottersville to "conservative dystopia." I should probably go to bed.)
Anyway, Bedford Falls FTW.
There's another choice: you can become a spinster librarian, which to me sounds much more fun than being the put-upon wife of George Whoever, having to cook for all the kids and listen all the time to him bitching. Pottersville would be a fab place to be a spinster librarian. You could go dancing every night.
The barkeep's political remarks are unfortunate, it is agreed. But one must concede he was somewhat provoked.
If you or I had had the position, AE, that might be the case. But something tells me Mary wasn't exactly Party Girl. (OK, I haven't actually seen that movie, but I totally intend to.)
It is kind of funny how the movie portrayed Mary's Pottersville fate as far worse than Violet's. "Sure, Violet's a hooker who's being thrown into the clink as we speak but Mary's - oh, god, no - not ... A SPINSTER!!!"
It kind of makes me want to rewatch the movie with a feminist perspective, but something tells me I'd find that very depressing.
Jeez, George bitches ONE night..... May I remind you it wasn't his fault what happened, but he was the one going to jail. Because someone else f-'d up. I give him a pass so, maybe that wouldn't be the best night to hear some crappy piano playing.
Also, the single woman was much happier in Bedford Falls. See Violet's glee at spending her "get a man" savings to help George.
:)
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