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Awix (3310 KP) rated Harry & Meghan: A Royal Romance in TV
May 21, 2018 (Updated May 21, 2018)
I Give It A Year
Mind-bogglingly weird, supposedly based-on-true-events TV movie cashing in on the recent paroxysm of monarchist schmaltz. You know the story: she's on TV, he used to be in the army, hushed intake of breath from the British establishment when it turns out the lad's seeing a lady of her particular type, and so on, and so.
Everything is very clearly presented as the tale of a modern, progressive, independent woman who ain't gonna take no nonsense from this troubled scion of a gaggle of hidebound inbreds; Meghan is the heroine who saves Harry from the crushing oppressiveness of royal tradition. You go, your grace!
Direction is bland, acting mostly indifferent, dialogue execrable. Worth watching for: the scene where Meghan ends up chasing Harry's private jet down the runway after precipitately chucking him. The subplot about Princess Diana being reincarnated as a lion. Some very surprising dialogue ('I love a dirty martini,' says the Duchess of Cornwall). Possibly the least accurate depiction of the Queen ever put on screen - she complains about how she's shown in The Crown, in a nicely meta moment.
Pervasive sense of double-think permeates the production: film is consistently down on the royals, which is odd when you consider that if Harry wasn't a royal it wouldn't actually exist. Media intrusion on the couple is also strongly frowned upon, but if making a whole movie fictionalising their lives isn't an intrusion of some sort, what is? Soon to pass into obscurity, I reckon, but an arresting, mutant production while it's with us.
Everything is very clearly presented as the tale of a modern, progressive, independent woman who ain't gonna take no nonsense from this troubled scion of a gaggle of hidebound inbreds; Meghan is the heroine who saves Harry from the crushing oppressiveness of royal tradition. You go, your grace!
Direction is bland, acting mostly indifferent, dialogue execrable. Worth watching for: the scene where Meghan ends up chasing Harry's private jet down the runway after precipitately chucking him. The subplot about Princess Diana being reincarnated as a lion. Some very surprising dialogue ('I love a dirty martini,' says the Duchess of Cornwall). Possibly the least accurate depiction of the Queen ever put on screen - she complains about how she's shown in The Crown, in a nicely meta moment.
Pervasive sense of double-think permeates the production: film is consistently down on the royals, which is odd when you consider that if Harry wasn't a royal it wouldn't actually exist. Media intrusion on the couple is also strongly frowned upon, but if making a whole movie fictionalising their lives isn't an intrusion of some sort, what is? Soon to pass into obscurity, I reckon, but an arresting, mutant production while it's with us.
Kara Skinner (332 KP) rated Confessions of an Expat in Paris in Books
Sep 16, 2019
I’ve been a fan of Vicki Lesage for years. I’ve read both Confessions of a Paris Party Girl and Confessions of a Paris Potty Trainer. So I was thrilled when she contacted me for an honest review (click here to learn how to get me to review your book).
Paris Potty Girl details her first few years in Paris, from bar-hopping to getting her first apartment to meeting her husband and Paris Potty Trainer, of course, details pregnancies and getting used to parenthood.
Confessions of an Expat in Paris is an anthology of anecdotes spanning across both these eras in Vicki Lesage’s life. You’ll learn about the cheesy and downright weird pick-up lines she received from French guys as well as the time she might have eaten part of her friend’s thumb.
Yep, you read that last sentence right.
Each anecdote is paired with a drink recipe, many of which sound really good. I can’t wait to try the mulled gin recipe.
Mulled Gin
For when you need to recover from face mask fails
1 bottle of red wine
12 oz. gin
1 teaspoon honey
1 oz. orange juice
1 oz. lemon juice
1 cinnamon stick
Add all the ingredients to a pot
Stir and Simmer until honey is dissolved
Serve warm
I really enjoyed Expat in Paris. The stories are usually hilarious and sometimes just a little bit cringy in a good way. Others are sweet and make me smile, like when she was on her honeymoon with her husband.
With her first two books, I felt like there was more of an overall story instead of disjointed anecdotes. As much as I liked being able to enjoy a quick and witty snapshot of her life before I had to get back to my own, I think I preferred the more continuous storyline in Party Girl and Potty Trainer.
While some of the stories were without a doubt hilariously absurd, like her boss’s father asking about how her vaginal rejuvenation was coming along in front of her coworkers (what the everloving fuck), others were less climactic. Lesage included an entire chapter about how she’s an awkward dancer, except when she did the Dirty Dancing move with her brother on her wedding.
A perfect wedding dance move.
The dancing chapter felt more like a summary than a specific moment in her life, which made my eyes glaze over. And she only casually mentioned what could have been some good stories, like her drunkenly dancing on tabletops in public. I would have loved a complete chapter about one of those times, but they are only mentioned now and then.
Vicki Lesage often makes me laugh out loud when reading her books. Her chapter “10 Ways Living in Paris is Like Dental Work” will always make me smile. She talks about how both involve interesting flavors, a lot of paperwork, and a lot of money, and I’ll go “Oh shit, she’s right.”
Now and then, however, her jokes miss the mark. At one point she veered off-topic to stage an imaginary trial to defend herself against herself for eating so much Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and then, within the trial, she goes even more off-topic by talking about how France doesn’t have Phish Food flavor until I just wanted to skip the chapter.
As of this review, I still haven’t tried any of the drink recipes, but I trust a former hardcore drinker like Vicki Lesage to come up with some good drinks, although I don’t think I’ll ever try The Fluoride Treatment because, well, ew. Not the drink itself, but the name. Even though it’s relevant to the chapter, I’m weirdly squeamish.
However, most of these drinks are probably not for amateurs like me, who drink wine out of a box and can’t tell the difference between Stella Artois and Schlitz (I’m guessing. I’ve never actually had Schlitz. But Stella Artois tastes like every other beer to me).
With the exception of the mulled gin, most of the drink recipes require either a martini shaker or a blender. You can probably mostly pull off these recipes without either, though. Just don’t take a page out of Lesage’s book and use lite pancake syrup instead of honey.
I rate Confessions of an Expat in Paris 4 out of 5 stars. It’s a hilarious book that I recommend to anyone who wants a light-hearted memoir.
Paris Potty Girl details her first few years in Paris, from bar-hopping to getting her first apartment to meeting her husband and Paris Potty Trainer, of course, details pregnancies and getting used to parenthood.
Confessions of an Expat in Paris is an anthology of anecdotes spanning across both these eras in Vicki Lesage’s life. You’ll learn about the cheesy and downright weird pick-up lines she received from French guys as well as the time she might have eaten part of her friend’s thumb.
Yep, you read that last sentence right.
Each anecdote is paired with a drink recipe, many of which sound really good. I can’t wait to try the mulled gin recipe.
Mulled Gin
For when you need to recover from face mask fails
1 bottle of red wine
12 oz. gin
1 teaspoon honey
1 oz. orange juice
1 oz. lemon juice
1 cinnamon stick
Add all the ingredients to a pot
Stir and Simmer until honey is dissolved
Serve warm
I really enjoyed Expat in Paris. The stories are usually hilarious and sometimes just a little bit cringy in a good way. Others are sweet and make me smile, like when she was on her honeymoon with her husband.
With her first two books, I felt like there was more of an overall story instead of disjointed anecdotes. As much as I liked being able to enjoy a quick and witty snapshot of her life before I had to get back to my own, I think I preferred the more continuous storyline in Party Girl and Potty Trainer.
While some of the stories were without a doubt hilariously absurd, like her boss’s father asking about how her vaginal rejuvenation was coming along in front of her coworkers (what the everloving fuck), others were less climactic. Lesage included an entire chapter about how she’s an awkward dancer, except when she did the Dirty Dancing move with her brother on her wedding.
A perfect wedding dance move.
The dancing chapter felt more like a summary than a specific moment in her life, which made my eyes glaze over. And she only casually mentioned what could have been some good stories, like her drunkenly dancing on tabletops in public. I would have loved a complete chapter about one of those times, but they are only mentioned now and then.
Vicki Lesage often makes me laugh out loud when reading her books. Her chapter “10 Ways Living in Paris is Like Dental Work” will always make me smile. She talks about how both involve interesting flavors, a lot of paperwork, and a lot of money, and I’ll go “Oh shit, she’s right.”
Now and then, however, her jokes miss the mark. At one point she veered off-topic to stage an imaginary trial to defend herself against herself for eating so much Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and then, within the trial, she goes even more off-topic by talking about how France doesn’t have Phish Food flavor until I just wanted to skip the chapter.
As of this review, I still haven’t tried any of the drink recipes, but I trust a former hardcore drinker like Vicki Lesage to come up with some good drinks, although I don’t think I’ll ever try The Fluoride Treatment because, well, ew. Not the drink itself, but the name. Even though it’s relevant to the chapter, I’m weirdly squeamish.
However, most of these drinks are probably not for amateurs like me, who drink wine out of a box and can’t tell the difference between Stella Artois and Schlitz (I’m guessing. I’ve never actually had Schlitz. But Stella Artois tastes like every other beer to me).
With the exception of the mulled gin, most of the drink recipes require either a martini shaker or a blender. You can probably mostly pull off these recipes without either, though. Just don’t take a page out of Lesage’s book and use lite pancake syrup instead of honey.
I rate Confessions of an Expat in Paris 4 out of 5 stars. It’s a hilarious book that I recommend to anyone who wants a light-hearted memoir.