Love Letters by Jocey Neligwa & Eva Hughes-Sutton Illustrations by Jocey Neligwa
Dear the Chick Flick genre,
Why I love Ghosts
Your show feels like a great big hug, with each episode making me laugh harder than the last, or even bringing a tear to my eye, largely thanks to its cast, who were massively involved in writing the show. Over five seasons, it has perfectly formulated the “Found Family trope” that I love so deeply in films and media. Your show follows an unfortunate incident, with young Allison, who recently inherited the house with her husband Mike, dealing with her newfound gift, the ability to see ghosts: at least those residing in the house for their respective afterlives, bound by its borders. Though separated by generations and unlucky fatal circumstances, it is so lovely to watch the friendships between a Georgian Lady and WW2 Captain blossom or to watch an eighties politician play chess with a caveman. Though obvious differences may separate them, the familial love they share for each other brings a warmth that seeps through the screen and feels like a hug, especially when watching it on a rainy autumn day; a perfect escape from the stresses of life. This show dives into many topics; love, grief, friendships, family, and even vegan breakfasts, all bringing the characters closer, with flashbacks to the past and many mishaps and hijinks. Even when the show is over, the cast, who may be remembered fondly from the BBC’s Horrible Histories, portray a genuine love for their individual characters and the show itself, making it even better. As GHOSTS wraps up this year with the fifth and final season, it will be time to say goodbye to Button House in the beautiful countryside once and for all. With the last episode being a holiday special, it will be the best bittersweet gift, sitting under the tree this cold Christmas.
Love from, Jocey Neligwa
23
With love and thanks, Eva Hughes-Sutton
Illustrations by Vivika Sahajpal
Despite the inherit badness of the anti-hero, this piece explores how the audience often comes to have sympathy for characters not aligning with typical moral standards, but who are relatable nonetheless. We hate to love them. The complexity of the anti-hero often produces thrilling entertainment; think the Joker, Deadpool, and Walter White. The reason for this could be linked to the realism these characters display. The absolutism of heroes and villains is not grounded in reality, instead with a mixed moral code, whereby strong morals are lacking in favour of self-serving attributes, but still with an underlying desire for the common good. Ultimately, this clash leads to self-destruction and tragedy, such as the story of Macbeth. There are numerous examples of these characters, arguably beginning with the Man with No Name (Clint Eastwood) in the Italian Dollars Trilogy of Spaghetti Westerns. To create this complexity, screenwriting employs, at least, one of the Dark Triad personality traits: narcissism, psychopathy, and Machiavellianism. Today, this is more complicated, and a perfect example of this is the character of Stannis Baratheon in the hugely popular Game of Thrones.
Legally, Stannis is the next in line to the throne, but he is unjustly denied by the various conflicts within the world. The first main protagonist, Ned Stark, dies trying to enthrone Stannis. The rigidity and stoicism of Stannis render him incorruptible, but not necessarily likable. His story is not the crux of the series, yet he would often cut his nose off to spite his face, by pursuing his cause despite other options available, which would jeopardise his hardened beliefs.
by Thomas Martin
He is quoted as being, ‘pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets’. A dangerous religion causes him to horrifically burn his own daughter alive, and that is the end for Stannis; his army is tragically routed by the actual villains at this point in the series (the Boltons). This unenviable position is highlighted with a quote from the book series, ‘I never asked for this crown. Gold is cold and heavy on the head, but so long as I am the king, I have a duty … If I must sacrifice one child to the flames to save a million from the dark … Sacrifice … is never easy, Davos’. The audience, if even passively rooting for him against the sadistic Ramsay Bolton, turns despite Stannis’ fundamentally positive and honourable crusade. George R. R. Martin, the series’ author, stated, ‘Despite everything else, Stannis is a righteous man’. Thus, his honour and pride lead to anti-hero status. Despite having the same sense of justice as traditional heroes and being recognised by the main hero of the show (Jon Snow) as the one true king, inevitably he follows a self-destructive path that leads to tragedy.
Entertainment
Entertainment
Dear Button House and its Ghosts,
Growing up, the mocking tones of my ignorant filmbuff father tried their best to deter me from you, but they were no match for the headstrong spirit of a teenage girl. In fact, I felt sorry for him. I still do. Imagine being deprived of the experience of being curled up in a single bunk bed with your best friends on a Friday night, giggling until the ungodly hours of the morning while watching Miley Cyrus fall in love on a subway. (LOL (2012) is an underrated trainwreck of a classic of yours, by the way). In fact, those nights may not have remained so vividly in my mind had your movies not been such a girlsnight staple. I can’t watch 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) without fondly remembering the friends I had at fifteen and our united daydreaming over Heath Ledger and what falling in love might feel like. I can’t watch 13 Going on 30 (2004) without thinking of that rainy Sunday afternoon my mother and I spent watching Jenna Rink learn to appreciate the messiness of young girlhood. Which, in turn, allowed me to appreciate mine. The female protagonists of your genre taught me that I can wear pink and dream about romance and prioritise kindness while also being smart, self-reliant, and able to become Harvard Valedictorian of 2004 – special thanks to Elle Woods for all the times she motivated me to pick up my pen and study! Your films helped to create sisterhoods just as thick as those defined by blood. In consequence, I fell in love with the power of film to be able to connect me closer to the women in my life, and to create memories I’ll hold with me forever.
Sympathy for the anti-hero
Shows like Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones are so successful because of their complexity involving the anti-hero. Yes, films like Star Wars: A New Hope provide a classic fight against evil, but the unpredictable nature of the anti-hero makes for greater entertainment.
Even the acting required to carry this out is more realistic, especially with Stephen Dillane’s performance as Stannis. The tidy and hopeful ending of a movie can become wearisome when repeated endlessly. Fiction portraying the anti-hero mimics life, you reassure me that, just like the characters on our screens, we are not perfect, and that even purely honourable and chivalrous endeavors are not deserving of success.
24
