Having stayed up way too late on Saturday night to watch a key football game that I'd recorded while out at a concert, I was feeling feverish on Sunday from too little sleep. By mid-afternoon, when I got home from church, etc., I wasn't up for anything challenging; so in order to recuperate, I went to bed for the easily-watchable American Girl double feature on the Hallmark Channel. This was the second-made, but first-shown, of the two.
This review may contain spoilers, but who cares? This is one of those happy-sad family movies with no big surprises. It has all the required elements of such a film, including the loss, and threat of loss, of certain family members. But you know such elements without my saying, elements which, if well-executed, can make one weep for joy.
When I first started watching, I thought, "Oh, another girl-and-her-horse story. How trite." But it turned out to be more. "More" in this case includes the following.
A. There are no BAD people in this movie, not even one. Not the boy who breaks his contract of apprenticeship in hopes of joining the Revolutionary War militia, not the bounty hunters who go after him, not even the man who abuses his horse in trying to break it, the horse that Felicity loves, trains in secret, releases from captivity, and eventually owns. There are people who do bad things, to be sure, but all are redeemed in the end. ("God bless us, every one.")
B. The title character, Felicity, is especially and particularly GOOD. As played by Shailene Woodley, she is forever bright and cheerful (but not overly so); and of her own volition, she commits a series of kind and generous acts toward others (doubtless due to her upbringing by good and understanding parents, played to type by Marcia Gay Harden and John Schneider), including one beyond expectation (especially for a child of 10) toward the imprisoned horse-beater, whom she had every reason to dislike and avoid. Had I watched this film when it was first released, I might be watching Woodley's "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" today. (Season 1 is on hiatus with but two episodes remaining as I write this.)
I called this a weeper because in my weakened state, the tears flowed perhaps a bit more easily than they would have otherwise. But tissues were not necessary -- the overflow was caught by the blanket on my bed. Needless to say, I recommend this film, whether you're sick or not.
Special kudos go to Valerie Tripp for the books and to Anna Sandor for the teleplay, writers who, along with director Nadia Tass, are responsible for creating another worthy entry in the body of American family films.
This review may contain spoilers, but who cares? This is one of those happy-sad family movies with no big surprises. It has all the required elements of such a film, including the loss, and threat of loss, of certain family members. But you know such elements without my saying, elements which, if well-executed, can make one weep for joy.
When I first started watching, I thought, "Oh, another girl-and-her-horse story. How trite." But it turned out to be more. "More" in this case includes the following.
A. There are no BAD people in this movie, not even one. Not the boy who breaks his contract of apprenticeship in hopes of joining the Revolutionary War militia, not the bounty hunters who go after him, not even the man who abuses his horse in trying to break it, the horse that Felicity loves, trains in secret, releases from captivity, and eventually owns. There are people who do bad things, to be sure, but all are redeemed in the end. ("God bless us, every one.")
B. The title character, Felicity, is especially and particularly GOOD. As played by Shailene Woodley, she is forever bright and cheerful (but not overly so); and of her own volition, she commits a series of kind and generous acts toward others (doubtless due to her upbringing by good and understanding parents, played to type by Marcia Gay Harden and John Schneider), including one beyond expectation (especially for a child of 10) toward the imprisoned horse-beater, whom she had every reason to dislike and avoid. Had I watched this film when it was first released, I might be watching Woodley's "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" today. (Season 1 is on hiatus with but two episodes remaining as I write this.)
I called this a weeper because in my weakened state, the tears flowed perhaps a bit more easily than they would have otherwise. But tissues were not necessary -- the overflow was caught by the blanket on my bed. Needless to say, I recommend this film, whether you're sick or not.
Special kudos go to Valerie Tripp for the books and to Anna Sandor for the teleplay, writers who, along with director Nadia Tass, are responsible for creating another worthy entry in the body of American family films.