Parasols, petticoats, sweets and trifles – Autumn de Wilde’s 2020 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma is the epitome of decadence. Critics have called it “lavish”, “totally delicious”, and “picture-perfect”. But does a focus on all things pretty make us appreciate Austen’s work or take it less seriously?
There are many benefits to watching children’s films as an adult. The most rewarding aspect, however, is finally realising why your parents would laugh at scenes that didn’t contain slapstick, talking animals, or various mishaps involving passing gas.
We shouldn’t have to rely on TV shows to teach young adults that consent must be informed. Netflix’s Sex Education is an incredible resource for young people in 2020. More widely, the online sex education industry is booming.
The recasting of John Ambrose is significant, not because he used to be white, but because he is now black. It highlights ways in which Netflix is becoming a platform for cinematic progression.
Love Island, sharing the fate of many popular mass consumables, epitomizes the definitive break between high and low ‘culture’. Although I have yet to begin my protest to have Love Island screenings in the British Museum, Love Island is not a simpleton’s game by any means.
Humans have a particular penchant for ignoring information we would rather not hear. Intellectually we might know livestock emissions count for around 14.5% of total global greenhouse gas emissions. Or that Beef alone accounts for 60% of global deforestation. And yet, we all hate Vegans.
On 20th February, at a rally in Colorado, the US president Donald Trump bashed the Academy Awards’ choice of the 2019 South Korean film Parasite, directed by Bong Joon-ho, as winner of Best Picture, asking ‘what the hell was that all about?’
With so many adaptations popping up on the world’s most popular streaming service, are new series based on books helping our book economy? On the other hand, when every other Netflix production is based on a book, how does this speak to the creation of new films and series?
Netflix’s Sex Education is created by Laurie Nunn. Her approach to sex and relationships discourse is refreshingly candid. Hormonal and inquisitive teenagers approach the show’s boy genius ‘sex wizard’ for advice. Otis has absorbed sexual health advice from his mother, a sex therapist. He dishes out guidance to the teens at Moordale High.
When I hear Fleabag declare that she has a terrible feeling that she’s a “greedy, perverted, selfish, apathetic, cynical, depraved, morally bankrupt woman who can’t even call herself a feminist”, I feel relief. Most days, I have the exact same worry.
