I was going to write several things about Moonstruck (1987), which Viking Zen screened for me earlier this evening, and then while showering I realized that the film is an utterly valid retelling of Little Red Riding Hood—à la Angela Carter, not Charles Perrault. I seen a wolf in every person I ever met and I see a wolf in you. You tell me a story and you think you know what it means, but I see the true story and you can't. You run to the wolf in me, that don't make you no lamb. And her wine-red dress, and the full moon. I love stories where the folktales are there like bones. More ensemble romantic comedies should have barely metaphorical lycanthropy.
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- 1: We've found where the divide is thin and chosen the other side
- 2: The ocean is faithful and the Devil's a liar
- 3: Melting outward like a movie burning on the screen
- 4: The ghosts of them surround me
- 5: I specialize in opera myself
- 6: Can't I take my own binoculars out?
- 7: And those who can remember when the night sky was a tapestry
- 8: Plates will shift and the earth will groan
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