This weekend my son and I watched season one of Anne with an “E” on Netflix. Growing up I was quite addicted to Anne of Green Gables, the book and the mini-series with Megan Follows. I was looking forward to watching the new series and sharing one of my favorite things with my son.
It’s never the same.
The new series pales in comparison to the 1980s version.
Granted, it is a hard act to follow, especially for those of us that grew up watching it and for those of us who are avid readers. My son and I frequently talk about how movies are never as good as the books. Think City of Ember.
But, things are also never as good as they seem in our memories either.
Anne of Green Gables evokes some epic memories in my mind and provides a certain level of comfort. There is no way this can be replicated. I’m prejudiced to the past.
Anne with an “E” did spark some interest in the book for my son. I am not sure he would have ever considered reading the book, but now he is curious. So, it wasn’t all a loss.
And we suffered through the entire season with me screaming “that’s not how it happened in the book!” and “why is this so dark?”
I have to admit, I will tune in to season 2 too.
Just to see what happens…