Freaky memories

I refuse to be embarrassed by including this recent remake of the classic mum/daughter body swap tale in my all blog. OK, so its not cinematic genius, its not soul-shaking drama, but Freaky Friday reminded me of being a little girl, and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride.

I remember watching films aimed at pre-teens with innocent pleasure. I had not yet acquired the cynicism that age and too many bad movies has taught me, so I revelled in the cheesy scripts, overtly American accents, and rosily romantic storylines. I dreamed of being the pretty girl who the cute boy had a crush on, for whom a series of lightly challenging yet eventually fulfilling adventures assailed them, leading to a joyful and moving conclusion. Even if my life wasn’t anywhere near as apparently exciting as these pre-teen fantasies clearly were, I could live vicariously, and I do attest that I experienced as much joy living in my little fantasy world as I would have if I had actually experienced those scenes in real life.

So watching modern day stars like Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan star in a tale that had been told in books and film when I was young, I caught myself thinking how pretty Lindsay Lohan was, how sweet it would have been to have a cute boy serenade me, how much fun it would have been to swap bodies with my attractive mum and crowd surf during a TV interview. I felt 12 again, and there was something quite sinfully naughty about revelling in memories of my innocence!