Leading Ladies and Best Friends

In the movie "The Holiday" there are many great quotes. It's one of my personal favorites, to tell you the truth. I really identify with the character of Iris particularly -- she's such a real and earthy character and I LOVE Kate Winslet's on screen chemistry with Jack Black. However, the lines that have always haunted me the most have been during Iris' conversation with aged Hollywood writer Arthur Abbot:

Arthur Abbott: He let you go. This is not a hard one to figure out. Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend.
Iris: You're so right. You're supposed to be the leading lady of your own life, for god's sake! Arthur, I've been going to a therapist for three years, and she's never explained anything to me that well. That was brilliant. Brutal, but brilliant.

I tend to share Iris' trouble; I don't see myself as being a leading lady. This has already bothered me fundamentally. I tell myself, "You need to be more assertive!" or "You always let people run right over you!" Then, the other night, a thought occurred to me.

So what?

Let's examine the quintessential leading lady role for a moment, shall we? In the movies, the leading lady typically follows these rules:

1.) She likes an amazing guy, but...
2.) ...there is always some sort of problem with her relationship with said amazing guy.
3.) She goes through an incredibly rough period, generally towards the end of the film just before the happy ending. This can involve heartbreak, the loss of a job, the death of a dear friend/family member, jail time, ect.
4.) She goes through a TON of drama and sad music before she finally manages to land aforementioned amazing guy.
5.) She can be somewhat of a drama queen and thinks that the entire world revolves around her.

Some examples of this kind of leading lady would be: Bella Swan in "Twilight," Jane in "27 Dresses," Cameron Diaz in "The Holiday," Mary Fiori in "The Wedding Planner," and Rose in "Titanic."

Now, let's examine the quintessential best friend role. In the movies, the best friend typically follows THESE rules:

1.) She is very often the comic relief, meaning she gets the wittiest lines.
2.) Most of the time, she is either married or in a stable relationship with an amazing guy. Usually the best friend's amazing guy isn't quite as handsome or as witty as the leading lady's amazing guy, but I reiterate, STABLE RELATIONSHIP. Low drama, and he's home at night when she gets there.
3.) She doesn't usually go through a really sad time just before the ending. Instead, she is there for her best friend, the leading lady, through thick and thin, further endearing her to the audience because of her selflessness and comic relief.
4.) She is allowed to have a quirky sense of fashion.
5.) She is often exceptional in some way, like as a fashion maven or a cook or having superior guy crushing skills.

Some examples of this kind of best friend would be: the girls in P.S. I Love You, particularly Lisa Kudrow's character, Sookie in "Gilmore Girls," Angela Weber in "Twilight, Paulette in "Legally Blonde," and Penelope Garcia in "Criminal Minds."

So, let's review, shall we? Drama vs. no-drama, steady relationship vs. trials and tribulations, and quirky fashion sense vs. classic yet all too often drab?

Yeah. No brainer.

Thoughts?

Tadpole Baptismal

He is pruning the rose bushes, like he’s supposed to.
Homework has been done, like it’s supposed to be.
Everything is as it is supposed to be,
and yet he jabs savagely with the scissors.
The sky is gray, the thorns are sharp, and the roses are dull.

Mosquitoes buzz above the pool while spiders lounge on forgotten floats.
The sand filter is broken, and the water is stagnant,
the perfect incubator for bellowing toads and brown water insects
that buzz busily on the seedy skim of their biohazard kingdom.
He snips above the grouping of five leaves, as he is supposed to.

Then he hears a voice from heaven, just as he’d always imagined it,
and he sees an ordinary looking man, dressed in blue shirt and jeans.
The man’s face is blurry in its plainness, and the man’s head reflects the sun.
He drops the scissors, dead rose petals pelting the hot concrete.
The toads are silent, and then begin to complain.

Kneel the man says, and he does what he is told,
on the white plastic side of the teeming pool.
The man does the same on the opposite side of the pool,
looking at him across rotting water noodles and skating bugs.
He finds himself rolling up his sleeves for some reason.

The man begins to splash his lower arms and face with the lukewarm water
and he does the same, washing himself with the filth of the broken pool.
I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Where the disgusting water has touched him, he feels clean.
The sky is still gray, the roses still dull, but he is new.

With no theatrical flash of light or even a dove, the man disappears.
He stares down at the same old pool, noting with interest
the plethora of tadpoles and brown crawling spiders.
He picks up the scissors and keeps clipping above the clusters of five leaves.
He has been baptized in tadpoles and filth, so different from the “supposed to” and is cleansed.