Whether it’s through the wardrobe to Narnia, the second star to the right to Neverland, down the rabbit-hole to Wonderland or past the wall to Stormhold, we all love a good adventure story that takes you out of the bland and bog-standard world to an entirely new place.
And if there’s a possibility of a place inhabited by talking animals, mischievous fairies or mental men wearing mental headgear, we’re most likely to want in on that particular escapade.
Before the time when we waited patiently for our Hogwarts letters that never came, we followed the yellow brick road to the wonderful land of Oz. Home to munchkins, flying monkeys and witches both good and bad, not to mention an orchestra on hand in case you felt like singing (that’s pretty much how I see all musicals) this place has all you need for a cracking good time when you’ve been abducted by a cyclone.
Here are some nifty facts about Dorothy and her vital attribute-less straw-stuffed/feline/tin friends:
There are some weird connections with Pink Floyd’s album Dark Side of the Moon. Try this out if you get the chance, it’s a little bit freaky, especially as the band have dismissed any deliberate correlations. If you begin the album on the third roar of the MGM lion the coincidences include (but are not limited to):
It’s a brilliant film, and wonderful escapism. If you’re sick of planet Earth, I wouldn’t say “Wish upon a tornado” or anything mad like that, I’d just recommend sticking this into the DVD player with a cup of tea and a box of tissues.
I forgot how weepy I get when I hear Judy Garland’s voice when I watched this, and when she’s crying about wanting to go home, and losing Toto, and all the other stuff that’s troubling her, it’s not even like you want to yell, “Get a grip, woman!” at the TV. You really feel her pain.
My favourite part is Oz itself, set in vibrant, high contrast Technicolor, you’ll know for sure you’re not in Kansas anymore. It has yellow brick roads brighter than New York taxis, an Emerald City that in the real world would probably be a gift from Becks to Posh, and fields of gold that you’ve a feeling are never-ending. It’s a shame about the flying monkeys though; those things are scaaaaaaary.
This is a simple story about a girl and her dog, fighting evil, and loving home. With a bit of fabulous footwear, flowing red hair, and the occasional song, there really is not a lot else you need from a lazy Sunday afternoon movie.
There’s no place like home…
By Lizzie
















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