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: Is this your name or a doctor's eye chart?
- 2: And they won't thank you, they don't make awards for that
- 3: No one who can stand staying landlocked for longer than a month at most
- 4: But the soft and lovely silvers are now falling on my shoulder
- 5: What does it do when we're asleep?
- 6: Now where did you get that from, John le Carré?
- 7: Put your circuits in the sea
- 8: Sure as the morning light when frigid love and fallen doves take flight
- 9: And in the end they might even thank me with a garden in my name
- 10: I'd marry her this minute if she only would agree
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