Tea for two

On escapism, indulgence, and almost writing about tea

I have always had a penchant for the so-called golden era of Hollywood musicals: beautiful women singing to handsome men, pining for love, success and riches - all to be achieved with their one true love.
Hang on. Not a lot has really changed…?

As a child, I would lose myself for hours playing hooky from school to watch midday movies, filling my head with dreams - which dreams, exactly, I’m not sure. The lives they sang about, the lives they lived, all seemed glamorous, unattainable, light-hearted and just a little dangerous. A perfect combination.

For those who know me, it will come as no surprise that very little has changed. This weekend, I locked myself in with a pot of tea and season four of Bridgerton. Judge all you like. The ridiculousness of its perfect diversity casting - in a world where white men somehow remain the most powerful and coveted - still manages to take my breath away. I fan myself delicately, imagining I could swoon down a sweeping staircase, gazing with glorious abandon from my gilded cage. Gloves off, of course - though somehow no one can tell my hands are rough from scrubbing floors.

Don’t worry, dear reader. If you understand, you understand. And if you don’t, there is still plenty of television-watching pleasure ahead of you.

Somewhere along the way, this post has gone off the rails - but if you’ve been watching Bridgerton, well, of course it has. I blush to admit that, deep down, I still want to sing a song, dance a waltz and marry a titled first son. (I have read enough - and watched enough - to know that a second son will not do. Thank you.)

What I meant to write about - and will now have to wait - are the rituals and learnings I’m circling around Japanese tea. This is the tea I drink during these indulgences. I have my own rudimentary processes, small repetitions that ground me and it has quietly become a constant in the manuscripts I’m working on.

Alas, I fear I’ve strayed too far this time. So for now, the image will have to suffice and tea will wait for another day. Perhaps in time for part two of Bridgerton season four to drop - because after all, “having tea” seems to mean something else entirely now, doesn’t it?

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Hallmark Movie Review

I have a deep and enduring loyalty to Jane Austen. It is not rational, but it is absolute.

I will follow her name anywhere - across centuries, across formats, across wildly optimistic modern adaptations - because she taught many of us how longing works: slowly, awkwardly, painfully and with enormous restraint. Austen never rushes the emotional reckoning; she lets it press in on you until you feel almost undone by it. So when a film promises Persuasion - even a modern one - I arrive hopeful, open and ready to be persuaded all over again. Which perhaps explains why disappointment, when it comes, lands so sharply. Because when a story about patience, regret and second chances forgets how to ache, you don’t just lose the romance, you lose the point. And that is where Modern Persuasion left me: loyal, dutiful and quietly wondering why I stayed to the end.

🏙 A Merry Little Ex-Mas

When a Jane Austen promise becomes… a gentle warning

📅 The Details

Year: 2020
Studio: Tangerine Entertainment, Tortyfly Pictures
Based on: Persuasion by Jane Austen
Rating: PG
Vibe: Modern, muted, oddly joyless

🎨 The Setup

Ugh. Never have I been more disappointed by a Jane Austen promise.

I went in hopeful because, of course, I did. Because Persuasion. Because I am nothing if not loyal to Austen, even when she does me wrong. I also genuinely liked the actress who played Wren, which helped… briefly.

The blurb insists she’s happy. I never once saw evidence of that.

💕 The Meet/Re-Meet

Technically, this is a second-chance romance: old feelings, unresolved history, the quiet ache of what might have been. In theory, this should be devastating in the best way.

In practice?

No sparks.
No longing.
No tension.
No delicious restraint.

Just people existing near one another, occasionally exchanging dialogue that gestures vaguely toward emotion.

📜 The Conflict / The Twist

I kept waiting for something to happen.

Instead, there were cats.
Nothing wrong with cats.
But cats are not plot.

There was no real story to speak of, which explains why I have so few notes. I wasn’t distracted. There was simply very little to say.

At a certain point, I did find myself wondering what I was actually doing with myself… other than honouring Jane Austen out of pure obligation.

🍁 Cultural Check-In

This film wants to be modern, restrained, emotionally literate, but it forgets that restraint only works when there is something simmering underneath.

Modernising Austen without wit, longing or interior tension is like serving tea without leaves: warm, empty, and faintly confusing.

😘 How Hot Is the Kiss?

Let’s be kind.
3/10 and that feels generous.

👀 POC Check

There is visible diversity, which is welcome but representation alone cannot carry a film that lacks emotional architecture. Presence is not the same as depth.

🥨 Final Thought

I finished it because it was Austen. That is the nicest thing I can say.

This is persuasion without persuasion, romance without ache and longing without consequence. A film that asks very little of itself and, in turn, gives very little back.

Cats aside.