Les Miserables

I finally saw it! And it's true, it is sad. For all those film critics wondering why everyone comes out of the cinema crying, the clue's in the name, bozos.

While the film is stunning, full of earworm, barnstorming tunes, glorious costumes and tremendous acting (I have a new, glowing respect for Ms A Hathaway), it uncovered some uncomfortable truths for me. I spent more time than I really should have half-wondering why they bothered to make Hugh Jackman's fingernails so authentically dirty but no-one who was crying had a red, puffy face, bloodshot eyes and hands full of snot-filled tissues (like the audience). But I also found myself thinking back to an interview with Anne Hathaway, where she worries that young fans coming to see the film will try to starve themselves in emulation of her emaciated frame. And you know what my first treacherous thought was, as Fantine was carried through the snow, ill and distraught and freezing to death? "Oh. She doesn't look *that* thin."

What the hell is wrong with me?

I worry that my brain has been finally captured by the body-haters, and I now think it is normal for a body to be bereft of  a single ounce of fat.

It's not hard to think that sometimes. Anyone slightly overweight, or not long-legged, tight-tummied and white-teethed, and who is in the limelight, is quizzed over their body image or held up as wonderful and astounding just for having a body shape LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE. It's not hard to see the people that men find attractive - whether celebrities, or porn stars, or someone else - and come to the conclusion that anyone else is abnormal, because they couldn't possibly be attractive.

And women are just as bad, in my view. Pinterest is full of women who want to be somebody that their body frame is just not going to accommodate. I am just a shade over five feet, and I sometimes dream of being 10 inches taller, with endless legs. But I've got to face it: no diet or exercise regime in the world will turn me into a supermodel.No lifting weights or doing 30 lunges a day will shrink my broad shoulders, get rid of my spots or make me less hairy.

I wonder if one day I'll overhear something like this as I'm waiting to buy popcorn:
"Oh, wowww, a thin/fat/egg-shaped/upside-down woman starred in this film. Big frickin' deal. I look like an egg too, but I can't act."

For the sake of womankind and the sisterhood (not the travelling pants one, bleurgh), heck, for everyonekind, I hope so.