Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, Saoirse Ronan, and Eliza Scalen as Meg, Amy, Jo, and Beth March in Greta Gerwig's "Little Women" (Photo Credit: Wallpaper Cave)
A few days after Christmas, I settled in for the latest screen adaptation of Little Women, this time directed by Greta Gerwig and starring Irish gem Saoirse Ronan as the iconic Jo March. Somewhat to my own surprise (book purist here), I was deeply charmed and touched. The film is an aesthetic feast between its beautiful scenery, music, and production, and it presents Louisa May Alcott’s tale of domestic trials and delights with fresh potency. At its center are sisters Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy March, each of whom learns to chart a path forward within the confines of post-Civil War America. Generations of fans, including me, have debated each sister’s merits and most sympathetic qualities. However, on this journey through the familiar story, I found myself identifying strongly with a character who often sits more on the edge of the Marches’ family dynamic. We meet Theodore “Laurie” Laurence, here portrayed with eager, thoughtful spirit by Timothée Chalamet, as the lonely boy next door. Though he does not remain lonely, I still found his perspective a poignant reminder of the reality of loneliness, and at various points in the story, the March sisters must also face their own struggles with isolation and pain. Between Laurie’s journey and the other hardships weathered by the March family, I saw a stirring search for companionship and a true home that I think many will recognize.

Laurie first meets the March family when he escorts Jo and an injured Meg home in his carriage after a dance, and his bewilderment at the domestic scene that greets him is evident. The sisters noisily talk over each other, everyone hurries to tend Meg’s sprained ankle, and the kindly March matriarch (played winningly by Laura Dern) hands Laurie a scone as she says cheerfully, “Just call me Mother or Marmee – everyone does!” Laurie has the look of one who has stumbled upon something rare and mysterious. We find that, for him, it is indeed mysterious, as he was orphaned young and now has the company only of his reticent grandfather and a kind but stern tutor. As his friendship with the Marches grows, it’s clear that Laurie sees in them the warmth, family, and human connection he has always been without, and his hunger for it is palpable. Throughout the film, the camera often catches Laurie watching the sisters and Marmee as if trying to work them out, as if admiring their close camaraderie and wanting to find a way in.

Photo Credit: Little Women Movie on Facebook 

As I watched, I felt most like Laurie in some scenes – watching from the outside and longing for the companionship seen in the sisters and Marmee. His position points to the prevalence of loneliness and reaches out a sympathetic hand to the viewer who may be in its throes. It certainly did for me. Watching the March sisters gather around a family fire, put on a play for Marmee, or wrestle each other on the floor gave rise to those familiar heartaches. My own battles with loneliness gave sharp contrast to those scenes in which the Marches gathered around their table in delighted unity. The sisters’ rocking laughter during their childhood games made me long for happy, uncomplicated family and friendship dynamics. Like Laurie, I felt like I was watching something that was out of reach for me personally.

The March sisters with Laura Dern as Marmee (Photo Credit: Wallpaper Cave)
And, in a way, the warmth and love and companionship I saw among the characters of Little Women are indeed out of reach right now. At the beginning of time, perfect harmony reigned, but then the world was broken by sin. We have the promise of a new creation coming, where hunger for love and connection will finally be satiated and all relationships will be made right again. But until then, we must fight to believe in that promise and work to be signposts of that coming fulfillment. It isn’t till the end of time that family and friendship will truly be uncomplicated by sin, that fellowship will be as warm and intimate and caring as it’s meant to be, and that no one will feel like an outsider anymore.

Little Women reflects this journey from harmony, to brokenness, and back to harmony, in how it contrasts Laurie and the sisters’ childhoods with their adulthood. One of the best directorial choices on Gerwig’s part was to unfold the narrative in flashback. The film anchors in what is the middle of Alcott’s book, when the March women and Laurie are in the grip of adult growing pains. Frequent flashbacks to their more idyllic childhoods emphasize the intrusion of hardship. We see that even though the Marches quickly enfolded Laurie as a brother, he is not immune to loneliness in other forms. He faces bitter disappointment when Jo refuses to marry him, and isolation once again ensues for a time. What’s more, even this family he idealizes also struggles mightily. The world they live in is one of poverty, war, and death. Marmee, the unconquerable backbone of the Marches, speaks of her near-constant battle with anger and sees deep grief both during and after the war. Fiercely stubborn Jo longs for independence, but near the film’s end, even she admits to desperate loneliness and a desire to be loved. From beginning to end, the story rings with yearning for home, family, and love. In a particularly poignant scene, Beth asks Jo if she misses Laurie despite her recent rejection of him, and Jo quietly answers, “I miss everything.”

Emma Watson as Meg, Saoirse Ronan as Jo, and Florence Pugh as Amy (Photo Credit: Wallpaper Cave)
It took time for me to notice it, but one understated technique in the film that lends weight to the story arc is in the camera work’s color filtering. The scenes of Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy, and Laurie’s childhoods are cast in warm, golden light, highlighting how their earlier years seem simpler and more innocent. Juxtaposed against these are the sequences of their complicated, trial-filled adulthood, which are framed in darker, grayer hues. But, as the film progresses, the flashbacks and flash-forwards grow closer together in time, building to an ending scene that is the culmination of everything the various characters have been longing for. As the family picnics on a beautiful sunlit lawn, children frolic, food is shared, and Marmee radiates love and pride. Jo has new purpose in her step, clearly content in the roles of published author and new wife (that’s how I’m reading it, anyway. Again, book purist here, guys). Notably, Laurie has reentered the March family fold by marrying Amy, who has loved him faithfully, albeit firmly, through his previous disappointment and has helped him become a better man in the process. In some of the final shots, Laurie cradles their new baby as he and Amy join the family table. No longer does he or anyone else look like an outsider, and laughter and harmony reign once again. And this scene is cast in the same golden colors used in the childhood sequences, subtly but powerfully noting that the story has come full circle, and that everyone has come home. It made me ache with sweet hope for the day that I’ll be home too.

The family reunited! (Photo Credit: JA Monkey)

Florence Pugh and Timothee Chalamet as Amy and Laurie (Photo Credit: Tumblr)

I recently had the honor of writing a review of the film adaptation of a frequently mentioned favorite book, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, for the online magazine Salt & Iron. I hope you enjoy! 

"The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" (2018) (Photo Credit: Vintagemadchen)

“If books do have the power to bring people together, maybe this one will work its magic.” 

This sentiment is at the core of the recent film adaptation of Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows’s charming novel, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. In this story, books establish romances, unlikely friendships, and new life directions.

The film’s heroine, London-based author Juliet Ashton, finds comfort in books and her writing career in the wake of World War II. Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, a group of friends on the island of Guernsey takes comfort from their weekly book club, which had become their saving grace when Nazis took over their island during the war. The club members have dubbed themselves “the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society” in reference to their love of literature and to a pie made from potatoes and potato peels, which they ate at their first meeting. Food scarcity during the war made real desserts scarce, but they found humor in it when they faced it together at their meetings.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society opens in the aftermath of the war and focuses on Juliet Ashton’s unlikely friendship with these book club members on Guernsey. Those relationships, which grow from perseverance during hardship and a common love for books, are the lifeblood of this screen adaptation and do excellent justice to the original novel.

As a devoted fan of the book, I approached the movie with cautious optimism and was pleased overall with the result. Though the film structures the story differently than it is presented in the book, the movie retained the joyful spirit of its source material and stayed true to the book’s themes of friendship, love for reading, and the power of books to enrich the lives of individuals and communities.

Continue reading here.

As often happens, I was late to the party on seeing a popular movie. In that vein, about two weeks ago I finally watched The Greatest Showman. The stunning visuals, colorful design and production, and vibrant music captivated me instantly. And let’s be real – Hugh Jackman is always a show-stealer.

But amid all the color and dancing of The Greatest Showman lie age-old questions about identity and purpose. P.T. Barnum lives with constant shame from his low-class ancestry and is determined to prove his worth to his wealthy socialite peers of late 19th century New York. The performers he recruits for his circus have each been deemed societal oddities and outcasts for various reasons. The songs, dialogue, conflicts, and almost everything else about the story continually pose the same questions: 

-What proves a person’s worth? 

-Is dignity earned or inherent? 

-Do you need to prove your own worth to others, and if so, what will have finally proved that? 

Photo Credit: Best HQ Wallpapers

Barnum works obsessively to create the most unique and exciting forms of entertainment for New York in hopes of becoming the wealthiest and most respected show master. He’s also hungry for his wife and daughters to earn the respect of their peers. But in the process, he slowly forgets to be the husband and father they need and doesn’t know how to stop chasing the next best thing in the entertainment business. 

On the other side are Barnum’s performers. Each of them has a unique quirk or socially unacceptable aspect, whether it be facial hair on a female face, an unusual skin color, an odd height, or something else. Barnum gives them an incredible gift in one another and in the outlet of performing to show their talents. But in his constant chase for more, he forgets to see them correctly too and treats them as means to an end. 

It isn’t until Barnum loses everything in dramatic fashion that he comes to grips with his failings towards his fellow man. And perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s when he reorients his attitude towards the people he loves and works with that he does indeed produce the greatest show. The final note of this musical mostly answers each question – it says that dignity and worth is innate in each person simply because of personhood, and that trying to prove yourself will only exhaust and hurt both you and others. 

I was refreshed by these messages, but also grateful for the even clearer answers I have for these questions as a Christ-follower. My worth was decided and proved before time because Almighty God set His affection on me and stamped me with His image. And the Christian believes that each person is not only a person, but a fellow-image bearer of that God. That proves innate worth more than anything else could and utterly dwarfs any attempt to do so on our part. That kind of worth is immune to the opinions of others and gives lasting peace, something that no job, talent, or great show could ever offer.

You may have noticed a bit of internet excitement lately over the new, live-action retelling of Beauty and the Beast. I jest. That’s putting it lightly, as we all know. It’s made over a billion dollars (yes, billion) in theaters and I can only assume the DVDs are now flying off store shelves. And I suspect it won’t be long before my resolve gives way and I’m one of those DVD buyers… :) 

So, if you care to read a 7,000th opinion on this movie, I’m attempting one here. I’d been eagerly awaiting the film ever since it was a confirmed project over two years ago – I squealed with excitement when the lovely Emma Watson was cast as Belle and dashing Dan Stevens as the Beast (To all who have just now realized how wonderful Dan Stevens is because of Beauty and the Beast – welcome, we’re so glad you’re here. But always remember that we Downton Abbey fans had him first). That was the beginning, and my excitement grew as the cast did and as the opening day drew near. Beauty and the Beast is my favorite animated Disney film, so my hopes for this reimagining were high. I’ve now seen it three times (and counting!) and have been thoroughly enchanted during each viewing. And per usual, I have many thoughts.

Photo Credit: Alpha Coders

Translating animation into real life is obviously a challenge technologically and aesthetically, but also on an emotional level. That’s probably what has struck me most deeply about this film. The movie is beautiful – the color and vibrancy and fantastical elements are all striking to behold – but human actors and new story depths have done truly moving things for this classic tale. Belle’s kind and brave heart, Maurice’s grief for his late wife and sweet protectiveness of Belle, Gaston’s self-obsession, and the Beast’s deep despair and blossoming tenderness toward Belle all come to life with new force that I wasn’t wholly prepared for. Even the enchanted objects became more relatable through the voices of so many well-known talents and some amazing feats of technology. In no particular order, here are some aspects of the film that I found especially memorable, lovely, impressive, touching, or anything else in between. 

The Beast
Much scrutiny has been directed at Emma Watson’s performance of Belle, and it’s understandable since Belle is the story’s center. But I’d argue that not nearly enough attention has been paid to Dan Stevens’s masterful performance of the Beast. Because yes, he did perform the role, not just lend it his voice. In fact, he really had to perform everything twice – once on the set opposite the other actors and once in a sound booth where he reenacted everything with only his face. This video sheds light on the process he went through for the character and it’s incredible to imagine. Just standing around in the Lycra muscle suit he had to wear would be a feat in itself, let alone giving a convincing romantic hero performance.

Photo Credit: Insider

But Dan Stevens did that very thing and much more. Though the Beast is obviously animal-like, I was struck anew by the fact that this character was a tormented, human prince who sees no way out of his despair. And as Belle begins to break through his cynicism and hopelessness, his heart and humanity come to the forefront more than ever. He has a humorous dry wit that the animated version of him lacked, and his bond with Belle deepens as they realize shared loves for reading and traveling. Belle also helps him rediscover the beauty of the world he lives in and it’s lovely to see him learning to look outside himself again. This reaches its height when he realizes loving Belle means the sacrifice of letting her go, and his new song “Evermore” expounds on his feelings there in weighty, heartbreaking rhythm. 

Well done, Dan Stevens. I suppose I sort of forgive you for leaving Downton now… maybe. He did make quite a prince in that blue coat at the end, I must say. 

Gaston – the Song and the Character

Photo Credit: Fanpop

I’d not heard of Luke Evans before he was cast as Gaston, but I soon learned that he’s a singer and theater performer by training, so I was expecting to be impressed. But WOW. I came out of my first viewing well and truly gobsmacked by his performance. He and Josh Gad seemed uniquely made to play Gaston and LeFou and they just might have stolen the whole show during the “Gaston” song in the tavern. It’s so much fun and will make you want to dance with them. Luke Evans hits some impressive notes and makes you laugh at Gaston for about the first half of the movie, skillfully revealing his villain status a bit more subtly in this version. At the beginning, I wanted to playfully cuff Gaston and tell him to chill out, but by the end, I was feeling rather frightened of him and was thoroughly repulsed by his obsession with himself and his disregard for others. His contrast to the Beast is clear by the end – one has the good looks on the outside and beastliness within while the other, while he appears beastly, has far more goodness inside.

Belle and Maurice
Kevin Kline as Maurice was probably the most pleasant of surprises to me about this movie. Maurice is a rather eccentric, comic relief character in the animated version, but in this one, he’s thoughtful, gentle, and carrying past pain that makes him both quietly adoring and deeply protective of Belle. From their first scene together, their uniquely close connection is obvious – Belle is his whole world and she knows his everyday needs before he even asks. In many ways, their love for each other drives both of them throughout the entire movie. It’s clear that Belle’s capacity to love so selflessly and purely stems from him. One of the film’s first poignant moments occurs when she takes Maurice’s place in the Beast’s prison – he encourages her to live her life and forget him, but she tearfully replies, “How can you say that? Everything I am is because of you!” And then she willingly shuts the cell door on herself as he goes free. I might have definitely cried.

Photo Credit: Extra.ie

And interestingly, this daughter who Maurice has brought up so lovingly then ends up teaching him a few important things by the end. The back-story on Belle’s mother was an addition to this retelling that I really appreciated. We discover that when Belle was a baby, her mother died of the plague very suddenly, forcing Maurice take Belle and abandon his wife before the illness spread. This explains his pensive, sometimes sad nature and deep concern with safety. But by the end, Belle has helped him see the value in taking risks, letting go of guilt, and loving boldly. It’s a beautiful and touching arc for this classic father-daughter duo. 

The Waltz
Sigh. The iconic ballroom scene in Beauty and the Beast is perhaps the most romantic sequence in any Disney movie, so I was excitedly anticipating it in this new version. And each time I’ve watched it, I’m pretty sure I held my breath for much of the scene. It’s simple and lovely and pure. Belle and the Beast look at each other as if for the first time, but also as if they’re seeing into each other’s hearts more deeply than ever before. Their conflicting emotions shine through beautifully as they spin and sway – their affection for one another is growing, yet they’re also uncertain and realizing they’re vulnerable where the other is concerned. And Emma Thompson’s rendition of “Beauty and the Beast” frames the scene exquisitely. She does the song beautiful justice and much, much more.

Photo Credit: Alpha Coders

The Redemptive End
Even in the animated version, Belle’s shuddering weeping over the Beast has made me cry with her. But I was truly a mess as I watched Emma Watson acting this scene. Her sobs are desperate and truly heart-wrenching as she pleads for him to come back and then kisses his unconscious face. Her pain is palpable as you see her realize before your eyes how much she loves him. And this version added an interesting facet to this scene through the enchanted objects – as the Beast fades, they follow suit, seizing up and becoming completely inanimate. Their fear and regret add important depth to the scene, making even the most seasoned Disney fan wonder if maybe this time it’s too late. 

But oh, just wait, my friend! The transformation could not be more glorious. Belle and her newly restored prince gaze, smile, laugh, and kiss with a joy and wonder that gladdened my heart. The objects become people again, families are reunited, and the prince sees with new eyes what a gift he has in his kingdom and subjects. And what a feast for the eyes that finale is! Belle’s dress took my breath away. I also appreciated how in the midst of the joy and festivities, we get a glimpse of the fun in store for our happy couple. As they dance, the prince questions an odd look Belle is giving him, and she coyly quips, “How would you feel about growing a beard?” In response, he gives a playful growl and smile. I’m liking the pictures I have in my mind of their future life together.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

How’s that for thoughts? I warned you there were lots of them :) I’m thankful for the lovely nostalgic feelings this retelling evoked, as well as the new life and depth it breathed into the classic story. All in all, I was struck anew by the purity, sacrifice, and tenderness of this tale – a tormented prince and despairing servants are trapped without hope, but the selfless love of one person from the outside changes everything and redeems them all. It pointed me to the greatest, most selfless Love of all that I need to be reminded of every day, and as always, I’m grateful for a story that can do that.

 

*I do not own the rights to these photos*

Photo Credit: Wallpapers Wide

Every two years, we’re treated to the epic talent and competition that comprise the Olympics, and I’m a huge fan. I love the summer and winter games alike and follow a few sports from each pretty closely. Whether it’s this seemingly magical flipping from the gymnasts, this incredible artistry from ice dancing and ice skating, or this superhuman speed in the pool, we can all agree that the Olympics showcase truly admirable skill that’s worth noticing.

So, I’ve been enjoying the Rio games over the past week or so, and the athletes are wildly impressive as usual, and it’s also offered a nice reprieve in a way. It’s fun to see the Olympics all over the news for a little while instead of violence, terrorism, and politics, and they also get me hyped in a good way. Since the games are concluding soon, I started thinking about inspirational sports stories that would fit well with the Olympic time of year and make the hype last a little longer! These are some of my favorites here as well as a few that are on my to-do list. Let me know what you think! 

To Watch

The Blind Side 
Who doesn’t love Sandra Bullock as Leigh Anne Tuohy, I wanna know? She truly shines as this well-known, successful mom and designer who took in Michael Oher, a young man who was born in the Memphis projects and spent most of his childhood in foster care. Leigh Anne and her husband Sean adopted Michael during his late teens and encouraged his unique gifting in football, eventually seeing him play in college and professionally. 

42 
A masterfully told account of Jackie Robinson, the first African American man to play professional baseball. Harrison Ford turns in a particularly quality performance as Jackie’s team manager. The film is thoughtful, honest, emotional, humorous, and addresses difficult content with excellence. 

Cinderella Man 
One of my favorite movies, and probably my all-time favorite inspirational sports film. James J. Braddock was a successful professional boxer in the 1920s, but a hand injury and the Great Depression threatened his career, as the movie so poignantly tells. As the film unfolds, uncertainty and poverty become new normals for James and his wife Mae and their three children. But the Braddocks cling to perseverance and family unity even when the odds are sharply against them. Yes, this is a story about a man who made a remarkable comeback and left a mark on professional boxing, but it’s also a film about hardship, courage, and how family love can sustain the human spirit through incredible difficulty. Russell Crowe and Renée Zellweger are true joys to watch as James and Mae.

To Read

The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown 
This is a book I’ve mentioned before (it made my list of good book club picks!) and will likely keep mentioning, as I now consider it one of my favorite books ever. A riveting account of the nine-man American rowing team at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, The Boys in the Boat is a true underdog story with spirit and suspense. The nine boys on the team were from the University of Washington in Seattle and entered the Olympics with many factors against them, not to mention that these particular Olympics were staged for Nazi propaganda. You will cry and cheer from your reading spot as you see the courage and incredible teamwork on display through these guys. 

For the Glory by Duncan Hamilton 
One of my current reads and I’m loving it! Most of us know Eric Liddell from the film Chariots of Fire – he was a remarkably fast runner known as the “Flying Scotsman,” and he shocked the world when he withdrew from his best event in the 1924 Olympics because it interfered with Sunday worship. He further stunned audiences when he won gold in an event in which he had considerably less skill. But what the movie lacks this book brings to light – after his Olympic success, Liddell bypassed opportunities for fame and money and served as a missionary in China for the rest of his life. Even in his final years in a Japanese internment camp, he was known for his kindness, prayerful attitude, and sacrificial service to those around him. I’m looking forward to better “knowing” this Eric Liddell through the pages of this book. 

Greater than Gold by David Boudia 
On my to-read list! This one came out just this month to tie in with the Rio games; current Olympic diver David Boudia shares his personal testimony in it. This is his third time to represent the USA at the Olympics, and what I’ve read of his story so far is equally encouraging and challenging. He shares in detail in this book how he used to dive for fame, human praise, and pride in himself. But he came to know Jesus after the 2008 Beijing games, and that has radically transformed his motivation and focus in diving. I can’t wait to read his story in full. Check out this interview for a taste, and watch David and his teammate Steele Johnson in the individual diving events tonight, tomorrow, and Saturday during NBC’s prime time! 

What are your favorite inspirational sports stories? Have you been enjoying the Rio Olympics? What have been your favorite parts to watch? I'd love to hear in comments!

Emilia Clarke as Louisa Clark and Sam Claflin as Will Traynor in the 2016 film adaptation of Me Before You
Photo Credit: Alpha Coders

{Warning: Thorough spoilers from Me Before You ahead} 

If you’ve been on the Internet at all over the last five months, you’ve likely seen approximately twelve million reviews on Jojo Moyes’s book Me Before You and its recent film adaptation starring Emilia Clarke and Sam Claflin. I read the book at the beginning of this year, wrote some initial thoughts on it here, and have now also seen the movie. Once the film trailer was released, the web virtually exploded with criticism of the story from Christian and secular groups alike. Much of the criticism is well-founded, and yet, much of it also bothered me. This is my attempt to lay out more detailed thoughts on the story. I hold to the view that it’s still worthwhile, though I disagree with many aspects of it. I’m still glad I read the book and watched the movie and will likely revisit both. Here’s my take on everything, whatever it’s worth, and why I still recommend the book and film. 

The Story 

For the few who possibly have still not read about the storyline, Me Before You centers on Louisa Clark, an optimistic, vibrant young woman who takes a job as caregiver-companion to Will Traynor, who has been in a wheelchair for about two years after a motorcycle accident left him a quadriplegic. 

Will used to be a cutthroat business executive, worldwide traveler, and extreme sportsman. By the time Lou arrives, he doesn’t see much point to life anymore. He spends most days sitting at home in his wheelchair and spitefully mocking anyone who tries to engage him. But unlike others, Lou isn’t afraid to bluntly call him out when he’s being nasty, which in turn helps Will to look outside his own misery. The primary tension arises when Louisa discovers Will is planning to end his life via physician-assisted suicide. This understandably horrifies her and she sets out to show Will that life is still worth living.

Photo Credit: Alpha Coders

The Controversy 

If you didn’t already know or guess, at the story’s end, Will does go through with his plans, much to Louisa’s grief. For this, the book and film have been scathingly criticized, particularly by disability groups and Christian organizations. And I want to make clear that I don’t agree with the conclusion. I wish it had ended differently and will always be conflicted about it. But I still liked many things about the story and have felt that many criticisms of it have not taken the whole narrative into account. Here are the most common feelings I’ve read: 

- It sends the message that you are better off dead than living with a disability. 
- It conveys that disabled people are an awkward discomfort and burden to the able-bodied. 
- It romanticizes physician-assisted suicide and heralds it as a noble, brave, and sacrificial act. 

While I agree that there are elements of truth to these claims, I wouldn’t slap them down as all-encompassing labels on the story. I believe that to do that would be to dismiss many narrative complexities and to shortchange Jojo Moyes’s writing. Yes, she was obviously pushing an agenda, but I can’t see that she intended readers to walk away with clear-cut answers to every possible question or scenario involving physician-assisted suicide. 

How I Interpreted the Story 

It’s important to note that Scripture quickly renders physician-assisted suicide indefensible. In Me Before You, the debate comes down to Will’s choice (more on that soon). It’s his life and his body, so it ought to be his decision, the story argues. But the Bible counteracts this idea because it says that our bodies are not our own (1 Corinthians 6) and that every life, regardless of its independence or perceived usefulness, possesses inherent value because the sovereign Creator God has granted it purpose and His own dignity (Genesis 1-2, Psalm 139). These are the ultimate reasons why the story’s ending disappointed me and left me wanting. 

Having said that, Jojo Moyes was clearly not operating from a Christian perspective as she wrote Me Before You, so as I read, I could not hold her to Scripture like I would a Christian writer. I’d certainly use Bible verses now while discussing the book or film with someone, but as I’ve often heard it said, we should expect non-Christians to act like non-Christians, authors being no exception. 

But all that aside, I still found Me Before You an extremely layered story that’s supposed to be complicated and make you squirm. I think it’s particularly unfair to say it romanticizes or applauds Will’s actions, or that it conveys death is better than disability because it’s written in such a way that the reader is meant to be rooting for Louisa the whole time, hoping along with her that Will changes his mind and sees that his life is still worth living, though it will be unavoidably different and perhaps shorter than an average one in the long run. And Louisa does break through Will’s misery and self-pity in many ways, making the conclusion all the more heartbreaking. The moment he tells her he’s sticking to the plan is possibly the most gut-wrenching and frustrating point in the book and film alike. Louisa weeps uncontrollably and rages at Will, ending the exchange by shamelessly cussing him out. And I agreed with her: 

Don’t say another word. You are so selfish, Will. So stupid…is that all you can say to me? I tore my heart out in front of you. And all you can say is, “No, you’re not enough for me. And now I want you to come watch the worst thing you can possibly imagine.” The thing I have dreaded ever since I first found out about it. Do you have any idea what you are asking of me? (Chapter 23) 

And many readers no doubt echo her sentiments. Louisa has done so much for Will and loves him deeply, but he outright dismisses her feelings. Him in the wheelchair isn’t the real him, Will argues. Life can’t be as big as it once was and he insists that anything less than that is not enough for him. He refuses to entertain the possibility of what could be simply because he can’t imagine it will ever measure up to what used to be. He says he can’t be the kind of man who “just accepts” and emphasizes that in the long run, she will be better off without having to be “tied” to him. And it was easy for me (and others I’ve talked to) to see that as terribly selfish, not brave or sacrificial.

But even so, the book seemed to argue that at the end of the day, personal choice had the final say. Will’s kind nurse Nathan particularly drove this point home in a grim exchange with Louisa: 

He can’t bear it. I’ve sat there with him and there is nothing I can say to the guy, nothing that is going to make it any better… and although there is nothing I’d like more in the world than for the big guy to be happy, I-I can’t judge him for what he wants to do. It’s his choice. It should be his choice… I want him to live if he wants to live. If he doesn’t, then by forcing him to carry on, you, me – no matter how much we love him – we become just another sh**ty bunch of people taking away his choices. (Chapter 22) 

Choice. That was what I felt Moyes was arguing for more than anything else. We’re quite naturally heartbroken and conflicted over Will’s loss, but in the end, she wants us to respect someone’s choice to end his or her life if that’s what they want. I can’t agree with this point of view, but I also didn’t think Moyes demeaned disability in itself at all. If anything, she highlights that the disabled are still normal people and deserve to be treated as such. As Louisa begins caring for Will, she realizes how insensitive and needlessly uncomfortable the general public can be towards the disabled:

[With “working-class” people,] I had observed a few basic routines as far as Will was concerned. Most would stare. A few might smile sympathetically, express sympathy, or ask me in a stage whisper what had happened. I was often tempted to respond, “Unfortunate falling-out with MI6,” just to see their reaction, but I never did. 

Here’s the thing with middle-class people. They pretend not to look, but they do. They’re too polite to actually stare. Instead, they do this weird thing of catching sight of Will in their field of vision and then determinedly not looking at him. Until he’s gone past, at which point their gaze flickers toward him, even while they remain in conversation with someone else. They won’t talk about him though. Because that would be rude. (Chapter 12) 

 Photo Credit: Alpha Coders

Louisa – and by extension, the audience – sees how patronized Will feels because other characters either jump in with supposed “solutions” for his life or awkwardly tiptoe around him as if he were a different species. But Louisa learns to see past the wheelchair to the person in it – she does her best to help him however she’s able, but she’s also not afraid to tell him when he’s being horrible. For me, this aspect of the story was actually a good and helpful reminder for how we ought to view the disabled and stand up for them. But according to Moyes, giving them choices – even the choice to end their lives – is part of treating them with respect, and that’s obviously where I must differ. 

What I’ve Learned From Criticisms 

As I’ve mentioned, though I agreed with some criticisms of the book and film, many of the more disdainful reviews irritated me. But I did try to remain open-minded and I read many of them, particularly trying to listen to opinions from disabled groups. The primary concept I’ve gleaned from the negative opinions is that the author likely created Will to simply push her agenda. I’ve been sharply reminded that he is not a fair or accurate portrayal of all or even the majority of disabled people, and I’d now give that caution when recommending Me Before You. There are a few other disabled voices in the story, mainly from an online support group that Louisa joins in order to research and ask advice from other quadriplegics. However, they are given little stage time, so Will is the story’s primary example of a disabled person, and I was reminded to take his perspective with a grain of salt. 

My Conclusion and Why I Still Loved It 

And yet, overall, I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy Me Before You. I enjoyed it immensely, in fact. Jojo Moyes is a talented writer and created interesting, dynamic characters. Her dialogue is snappy, fun, entertaining, and fast-paced. Though I cried in frustration and sadness at the end of the book and the movie, I laughed out loud through the first three-quarters of both. Louisa and Will were immediately likable, even when they annoyed me. Louisa’s larger-than-life personality charmed me – she’s awkward, klutzy, and joyful. Will’s sarcastic humor and dry mockery of Louisa’s scrapes had me rolling with laughter. Their exchanges are hilarious because they make fun of each other and they both have a knack for clever, witty one-liners. 

In short, I found these two lead characters delightful and I wanted to spend time with them. Though the ending was disappointing, I’m glad I “knew” them. And the film only heightened my enjoyment of them, as Emilia Clarke and Sam Claflin turned in performances both weighty and charming that also packed emotional punches in the bargain.
 

 Photo Credit: Alpha Coders

What’s more, I appreciated Me Before You because it made me think. Even if I don’t agree with its stance, I can usually value any story that unflinchingly tackles a difficult subject and makes me think about it for weeks afterwards. Me Before You definitely did that for me, considering I’m still thinking about it six months after first reading it. It’s healthy to read and watch stories that make you think about tough issues, and this one accomplished that well for me. 

And I’d say this story is actually beneficial for Christians in particular to ponder. Will Traynor’s hopelessness in the story provides a sharp contrast to our eternal security. As I read the book, I kept thinking of people who have become blessings to others not in spite of their disabilities, but because of them. Joni Eareckson Tada, Jay and Katherine Wolf, and Kara Tippetts were the primary people on my mind – all of them endured or are enduring conditions seen as terrifying by worldly standards, but they’ve courageously used their stories to reach millions to say that there is hope. And Me Before You made me all the more grateful for that eternal hope I have in Christ. Will Traynor pins his happiness on earthly life, reminding me that many people do put that kind of stock into earthly life when they don’t have hope of a better life to come. I’m grateful that I do have that hope, and thus don’t have to look to this imperfect world to deliver the fulfillment we long for.

I was pretty inspired when Anne Bogel of Modern Mrs. Darcy wrote about her favorite fictional mothers for Mother’s Day, so I decided to be a copycat and do a Father’s Day post in the same vein. Happy Father’s Day to all, and please chime in with your favorite fictional fathers. The men of this list certainly aren't perfect, but all things considered, I’d say their kids were pretty fortunate to have them.

Mr. Bennet 
Who better to begin this list than the endearingly sarcastic and witty Mr. Bennet of Pride and Prejudice? Though he’s certainly not always a model father or husband, he’s affectionate, bookish, and always has a most perfectly clever and sardonic comeback. While he isn’t the best disciplinarian with his silly younger daughters, he does encourage us readers to laugh at absurdity and marry for love, which are, incidentally, exactly what heroine Elizabeth is determined to do. And Mr. Bennet’s special connection with Elizabeth is a bright spot of the story, as is the enjoyment he derives from relentlessly teasing his silly wife.

Screen Capture Source: YouTube

Matthew Cuthbert 
Though Matthew is never actually a father, his roles of surrogate father and friend to Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables are one of the sweetest aspects of this first book in the Anne series. Though initially shocked at meeting a girl at the train station instead of the requested boy, he is smitten with Anne’s chattiness and childlike imagination within minutes of knowing her. And throughout the story, her innocence and unadulterated trust break through his shyness and eccentricity. Though a man of few words, his love for Anne is deep, and he’s quick to make it known. His famous words to her towards the end of the book still make me well up every time: 

“Well now, I’d rather have you than a dozen boys, Anne. Just mind you that – rather than a dozen boys. Well now, I guess it wasn’t a boy that took the Avery scholarship, was it? It was a girl – my girl – my girl that I’m proud of.”

Photo Credit: Anne of Green Gables Wikia

George Banks 
What’s not to like about this hero from Father of the Bride? He’s conscientious about everything and yet has a knack for getting into serious scrapes, especially when major changes interrupt his schedule that always has to be just so. He often says the wrong thing and drives his family insane, but beneath all his antics beats an incredibly soft and loyal heart that would do anything for his wife and children.

Photo Credit: Movie Man's Guide 

Arthur Weasley 
Couldn’t forget this guy, could we? Throughout the Harry Potter series, he cheerfully heads up his wizarding family of nine and works tirelessly in his post at the Ministry of Magic because he genuinely loves it. He’s warm, welcoming, always up for an adventure, and usually ready to crack a joke along with Fred and George to encourage Mrs. Weasley to loosen up. But raising the twins has also made him wise to trickery when he needs to be, and he’s always ready with helpful, fatherly advice for Harry. Mr. Weasley’s fascination with Muggle trinkets remains one of his most endearing qualities; I’m waiting to stumble upon a fan fiction in which Hermione accidentally shows him Google and his mind will be so blown he can’t recover.

Photo Credit: Harry Potter Wikia

Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham 
And of course, a nod to stoic Lord Grantham of Downton Abbey. He’s always been one of Downton’s foundational pillars through the changes the Crawleys weather. He’s always there doing his best to run things, though he did often have to be unwillingly dragged into modern times by Mary, Tom, and even Violet. He can be a stuffy old prig, but at his heart, he is a good man with sincere love for his wife, daughters, and home. He’s a kindly landlord and devoted family man who wants the best for those in his charge, especially his daughters. His closeness with Mary is particularly enjoyable – one of my favorite moments in the entire series is actually when he encourages her to break off her engagement to the manipulative Sir Richard Carlisle and find a cowboy instead. It’s a breakthrough moment for both and such a delight to watch.

Photo Credit: Playbuzz

Do any of these men make your list of favorite fictional fathers? What other noteworthy ones have you come across lately? I'd love to hear.

*I do not own the rights to the photos in this post*