
Perhaps it’s just a matter of timing. Like it or not, I am now of an age where my cherished childhood memories have come up for recycling. Movie adaptations of books are nothing new, but what began as a trickle in my teens has risen to a flood in my 20s, and time has not softened the blow of seeing these stories re-vamped for the 21st Century. On the contrary, as I cling to these last vestiges of my rapidly receding childhood, these new ‘improved’ versions become that much more personal.
Here is the dilemma: I am torn between excitement for a chance to revisit an old favorite and terror that what I see will be a poor substitution for what I knew and loved. Worse still is the certainty that whatever image I see will replace what I imagined a child, and I will find myself unable to recall it as it once was. Read More »















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