Of course we fawn over Mathilda, but that was pretty much just an enjoyment on par with a very (very) good piece of candy. Like Dove chocolate, for all my fellow middle-aged women out there: SO truly excellent for an instant, but then gone, and certainly of no nutritional value. (Enjoy it for what it instantaneously is... any more will only get you fat and sad).
Ergo, I've always only kinda felt like I should be in love with Natalie Portman.
Well now of course I am.
But, yes, her character is 100% cliche. Quirky, exciting, unconditionally-loving miracle messiah girl who shows up just when the depressed protagonist needs her. Well ain't that a bitch for what it says about me, the very specific audience member, now enamoured.
Oh well. Does this kind of thing actually happen? I reckon best bet is certainly not to count on it, but not to rule it out all the same (no reason to commit to a cold harsh reality).
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