(“As thus it is, it was ever so.”)
Remember Little Jimmy Dickens? He of Grand Old Opry fame and warbler of “May the Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose.” I was going to tell you he was also responsible for “Life Is a Grade B Movie,” but (thank you, Google) it must be blamed on someone else.
Regardless, for the uninitiated, a Grade B movie is a low budget production, often made in a hurry with a hackneyed script, clichéd edits, and superficial character development. If it’s a teen movie, for example, it must include the haughty, sports car-driving rich boy, the lovable fat kid, the torn-by-his-conscience, brooding hero, the icy blonde, and the mousey girl next-door who in the final scene removes her eyeglasses, lets down her hair, and with the tiniest unintentional sexual innuendo snags her sweetheart.
Why am I telling you this? Because after observing the goings-on last weekend, I am convinced that dressage shows are Grade B movies. I figure I went to my first one–a horse show, that is—47 years ago. The horses are better now, and more people know what they’re doing, but the plot lines remain the same:
The wacky judge who spews random scores—too high, too low, too unfathomable; the horse who is so good at home and even in the warm-up and then turns to (choose one) obsidian, jelly, chirping cicadas once he gets into the arena; the novice rider dumbfounded that her dysfunctional mover is beaten by his more talented stable mate even though she loves the first one to death; the “He felt so awful” apologist spoken as she picks up her blue ribbon; the crybaby who packs up and goes home early when her horse is less-than-perfect; the cranky, unsupportive husband who shows up dragging the kids and the camcorder as his wife is coming out of the arena; the totally absent husband who had heard the fish were biting this weekend. The list goes on.
This is not to say that there are not heart-warming, Disneyesque subplots as well. There are moments of spontaneous joy and triumph.
All I am saying is: As thus it is, it was ever so. So, if some producer approaches you about investing in a feature-length dressage-themed blockbuster film, don’t be surprised if the result goes directly to late night cable.
Consider yourself warned.