Little girls are innocent, open, interested, eager. They are often adorable and gorgeous. They are tons of fun to be with and play with. They're even fun to play with as if they're real live dolls that you can dress up and do their hair. Unfortunately there is a flip and ghastly side to all that in that they are also sometimes the targets of very sick, cruel, evil people.

While rearranging some furniture and doing some cleaning, I put the tv on for background noise and got lured into watching a movie on Jon Benet Ramsey. The actors are an impressive line-up and quite good (Kris Kristoffersen, Marg Helgenberger (far more appealing onscreen than Patsy herself was), Ronny Cox, Ken Howard, John Heard, Dennis Boutsikaris, Jane Powell (yes, that Jane Powell - she plays JB's dance instructor), Ann-Margaret (she plays Mrs Ramsey's mother), among others). And although the movie is uneven from a critical point of view, it effectively depicts the all-too-human errors of the investigation, some unavoidable and some due to odd quirks of the people involved. It has been bizarrely impossible to solve the case partly because many of the police and detectives were so convinced that the Ramsey's had murdered their daughter, despite how unlikely it was from all kinds of points of view, so that they refused to pursue any alternative evidentiary leads. Even after nearly thirteen years, the story remains both oddly fascinating and very disturbing.

I found the story even creepier than I remembered, perhaps because t2cgitw arrived during the intervening years. Probably because of them, what struck me now is how much Jon Benet and her mother were/are like other little girls and their mothers. All the dressing up and make-up and playing at being ten or more years older than they are and caring so much about being fairy tale/cliché cutesy/pretty/sexy is so familiar and so ordinary.

On the one hand, one has to wonder if there is something at all damaging or wrong with so much emphasis and focus on external and superficial frill. On the other hand, maybe not because maybe fantasy play of all kinds is good for the imagination - and goodness knows that a healthy imagination is vital for self-aware and contented growth and development. It's hard - perhaps impossible - to know where the line between healthy and sick is - or even if there is such a line. There are so many ways to get from birth to death and who are any of us to be sure we know which are valid and which are not?

But whatever else is not entirely evident (pun intended), it is certain that this is a sad and awful story. I only wish there were clear lessons to take to heart, learn and pass on.

Labels: children, modern times, movies, today's movie