The Fairy Diary Day 340 #TFDbyRWOz2

Meribabell writes:

We met no resistance at this end of the city. I would of thought the area deserted except for the furtive figures of what I took to be female dark elves and their children peeping out of the windows of the buildings lining the crooked streets. 

I remember being thankful that our fears about Willie had not come to pass. No hue and cry had been raised. We went about freely. 

It was not until the city center that we encountered any opposition. There the dark elf reserves were mustered awaiting orders. 

The Dromadil pixies burst in upon them with a fury that took me aback. The destruction they meted out was like watching the goblins at war. I could not believe my eyes. 

Then, I realized that they must have been in the grips of that entity Noralei and I had struggled against on the Low-way. 

So fearful were the dark elf troops to get away that they fled to the canyonlands side of the city and opened the gates in their panic to flee the pixies. This despite their brethren’s resistance to this action. 

I called on Navril and his elves, and Noralei and Rumble to bring order and discipline to the Dromadil pixies. 

Dunfallon would have been best for the task, but with the nearness to the outside world he had summoned his eagle and together they were everywhere – in and out of the stronghold. 

I so wanted to summon Merlin. 

But then I simply did what I knew I had to do. Removed my cloak – held my pendant in front of my armor and rose above the city. 

In the blinding flash that followed all activity ceased. 

As we pieced things together later, this got Dunfallon’s attention, and his gaze fell upon a chalice atop the highest tower in the stronghold. At the same instant Noralei noticed it too. She arrived before he could and wrenched it from its place. 

The result was immediate. As with a great sigh of relief the Dromadil pixies came to their senses. 

The dark elves stacked their arms and surrendered.

They Call It Screwball

They Call it Screwball

No. I’m not writing about the baseball pitch that behaves in an opposite manner to the curve ball.

I am referring to the meaning of the word when it is applied to a slightly (or totally) off-kilter personality. When it comes to film, the word is usually shackled hand and foot to another word – “comedy.” In this genre, these aforementioned personalities are thrown together into situations that range from the absurd to the downright silly.

And they’re a lot of fun.

My wife and I received our indoctrination into the form in Seattle in 1974. A little storefront theater had sprouted out of “nowhere” down in the Pioneer district. The young couple (the Curtises) who gave it “birth,” christened it – The Rosebud Movie Palace. It was all of 88 seats, to which you gained access by running the maze of plywood walls thrown up to enclose the auditorium area. To my notion it was a throwback to the old Nickelodeon era.

[Research aside – The whole film industry in these United States owes its existence to similar tiny beginnings. In New York City of, say, 1904 – these establishments in the statutes of the city were known as “common shows.” This term described theaters of under 299 seats, and were not subject to the fire code of the larger legit theaters. And because the admission was five cents, they gained the moniker Nickelodeon.]

I first ran across the Rosebud theater when perusing movie ads in the newspaper. A film title caught my eye – “The Philadelphia Story.” It was a film we had heard about, but never seen. So we paid them a visit on my day off from the Fifth Avenue Theater (a bus man’s holiday). And we were delighted to watch the trials and tribulations of the three main characters played by Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart. Want to know anything more? I don’t do spoilers. Catch it for yourself.

We kept a weather eye out for other titles in the genre and soon tracked down the likes of:

It Happened One Night

Bringing Up Baby

You Can’t Take It with You – (my personal favorite)

His Girl Friday

Will you look at that  – Capra – Hawks – Capra – Hawks. I am aware that other directors toiled in the genre, but those two are easily the best. But I am thankful to Cukor, as the director of The Philadelphia Story, the “gateway drug,” as it were, to this rather mild addiction.

I come to the end of this post and hesitate to mention that we also saw films of other genres at the Rosebud. Like “Fury” the Fritz Lang thriller with Spencer Tracy; and “Queen Christina” the historical drama with the enigmatic and beautiful Greta Garbo.

But look I’ve gone and done it anyway. I didn’t hesitate at all.

Just call me “screwball.”