So, watching “Annie” with your adopted Haitian daughter can be actually incredible. On so many different levels the classic Albert Finney version sets a standard. Cinematic quality combined with beautiful choreography join the plot and excellent cast to warm the soul. I didn’t expect to be so moved by the orphanage scenes. With Lenia pressed next to me on the left, this viewing is a bit different.
As Lenia is drawn into the drama, I wonder what she thinks of the depiction of orphans. Does she relate? Is this insulting? Is she enamored with the orchestrated cuteness? She snuggles closer. I reminisce. The “Annie” we watch is the 1982 version with Carol Burnett, Albert Finney and the lovely Anne Reinking. This is the version which will remain the musical litmus forever burned into my mind. Choreography, cast, plot, and wonderful songs live on. Did I mention the choreography?
As a middle class brother growing up in the South I lived to annoy my younger sister. I would like to profess that I never locked her in the linen closet (the top shelf looks cool) or removed the heads from her Barbies (they had it coming). Unfortunately, I would frequently torment this beautiful brown-haired sister. One year for Christmas or a birthday someone gave her a portable cassette (remember those?) and a tape of “Annie.” My sister carried that black cassette player around for months singing all the songs. Yes. I sang them with her. When the battery would run out we would plug it in and continue singing. When our voices ran out we would sing louder. Those songs are awesome. This memory is awesome.
I can’t remember watching the movie with my sister, Laura. But I know every scene. What strikes me years later is the quality with which this version of “Annie” was accomplished. I’m older. The movie is over thirty years old. I’m over forty. Yet. This portrayal improves with each viewing. One sees things which were easily passed upon the first watching. In one scene Ms. Hannigan is repeatedly run into the wall. In another, Daddy Warbucks grieves his lost of a daughter. In another, Punjab removes his turban (his identity) to save Annie. None of this was noticed upon my first dozen watches of this movies.
Tonight, I have the opportunity see this masterpiece with Babu and my girls (mostly). Lenia says she knows the story. She “always knows” even when she doesn’t. We sing. Some of us cry. We all love Punjab. We share the experience. Isn’t this goal of all great cinema? But something is different this time. Yet another perspective? If I allow myself to imagine Lenia’s experience I…..struggle. She lived it. On a mountain in Haiti, she lived it.
I’m wedged between Lenia and the shoulder of our old couch. Punjab. He would help me know what to say to my adopted Haitian daughter. He would.
14° Cloudy Knoxville, TN, United States
*Punjab (P) was Daddy Warbucks loveable body guard in the movie..