Anne Of Green Gables 1985 Mini Series

Okay, let's talk about a certain redhead. You know the one. She’s practically a national treasure in Canada. We’re diving headfirst into the 1985 Anne of Green Gables mini-series. Yes, the one with Megan Follows. Get ready for some serious nostalgia.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. "It’s a classic! Everyone loves it!" And for the most part, you’d be right. It’s a beautiful story. It’s sweet. It’s charming. But I might have a slightly… different take. And it’s okay if you disagree. That’s the fun part, right?

My main thing is this: Anne Shirley. She is a lot. Like, a lot a lot. She’s not just a spirited orphan. She’s a whirlwind of dramatic pronouncements and over-the-top emotions. Honestly, sometimes I felt like I needed a nap just watching her.

Picture this: You’re a stern, practical farmer. You’ve requested a boy to help with the farm. And who shows up? A gangly, red-haired girl who immediately starts waxing poetic about clouds and aha! the raspberry cordial. You’d probably be a little bewildered too, wouldn’t you?

Marilla Cuthbert’s stoic reactions were, for me, the true comedic gold of the series. She’d be trying to bake bread, and Anne would be having a full-blown existential crisis over a chipped teacup. And Marilla would just… blink. That’s a level of patience I can only dream of.

And Matthew! Sweet, shy Matthew. He was the best. He understood Anne’s unique brand of chaos. He probably saw a kindred spirit in her frantic energy. Or maybe he just liked that she talked so much because he didn’t have to. Either way, he was her biggest fan.

The drama! Oh, the drama. Anne could find a reason to be dramatic in her sleep. A misunderstanding with Diana? Disaster. A slight perceived by Gilbert? The end of days. She lived every moment at 110% intensity.

And that hair! Bless her heart. That fiery red hair was her defining feature. Everyone commented on it. She hated it. We all probably secretly wanted to touch it. It’s iconic, but man, it caused her a lot of grief. And a lot of dramatic speeches.

Let’s talk about Gilbert Blythe. The dashing, popular Gilbert. He dared to call her "Carrots." A cardinal sin, obviously. The ensuing silent treatment and vengeful classroom protest? Peak Anne. It’s a testament to her dramatic flair.

I mean, who hasn't felt that surge of indignation over a silly nickname? But Anne took it to an Olympic level. She held a grudge like a champ. She was basically the queen of the silent treatment before it was cool.

Sometimes, I just wanted to tell Anne, "Honey, it’s just a nickname. Maybe just tell him you don’t like it instead of vowing eternal vengeance?" But then, we wouldn’t have the story, would we?

The landscapes were breathtaking, though. The rolling green hills of Prince Edward Island. The shimmering water. It really made you want to pack your bags and run off to Avonlea. Even if you had to deal with Anne’s constant pronouncements.

And the costumes! So lovely. So prim and proper. Anne, with her imagination, probably would have preferred something a bit more… flamboyant. But she made those button-up dresses work with her unique style.

The pacing of the mini-series was also… deliberate. It took its time. It savored every moment. Which, again, is lovely. But when Anne was on a dramatic roll, it felt like it could go on for days. We’d get the full, unadulterated Anne experience.

The friendships! Diana Barry. The kindred spirit. Their intense bond was so pure. Until, of course, it was shattered by a spilled bottle of raspberry cordial. Which, let’s be honest, is a pretty valid reason for a temporary rift.

But the way Anne described things! That was pure magic. Her words painted pictures. Her imagination soared. She saw beauty in the mundane. That’s something to admire. Even if it was a bit exhausting to keep up with.

Her apologies were just as dramatic as her outbursts. She’d deliver them with such earnestness. You couldn’t help but forgive her, even if you were still a little tired from the whole ordeal.

And Mrs. Lynde! She was the town gossip. The voice of reason. And sometimes, the source of Anne’s dramatic pronouncements. She kept everyone in line. Mostly by talking about it. A lot.

The ending, with Anne going off to college. It was bittersweet. We knew she’d do amazing things. But who would keep Marilla and Matthew entertained? Who would narrate the clouds? It felt like a chapter closing, and a very loud one at that.

So, my "unpopular opinion"? Anne of Green Gables (1985) is wonderful. It’s charming. It’s a classic for a reason. But Anne Shirley herself? She’s a magnificent, exhausting, dramatic force of nature. And I wouldn't have her any other way.

She’s the kind of character who sticks with you. The kind who inspires you to find the romance in everyday life. Even if you’re not quite as dramatic as she is. Or maybe, just maybe, you are a little bit.

It's that overwhelming earnestness that makes her so endearing. She feels things so deeply. And we, as viewers, get to experience that alongside her. It’s a wild, red-headed ride.

And the series captures that beautifully. The setting, the supporting characters, the overall tone. It all works to highlight Anne’s unique personality. She’s the sun around which Avonlea revolves.

Even Marilla, who starts out so stiff, softens. You can see the affection growing. It’s a testament to Anne’s persistent, albeit dramatic, spirit. She breaks through those tough exteriors.

So yes, Anne is a lot. But that’s why we love her, right? She’s not perfect. She’s a dreamer. She’s a talker. She’s a fighter. She’s everything a memorable character should be.

And the 1985 mini-series is the perfect showcase for all of it. It lets Anne be Anne, in all her verbose, passionate glory. It's a warm hug in television form, even if that hug comes with a side of theatrical sighing.

It reminds us of the power of imagination. The importance of friendship. And the enduring strength of family, chosen or otherwise. Even if that family is slightly overwhelmed by their spirited charge.

So, if you haven’t revisited Avonlea lately, do yourself a favor. Curl up with a cup of tea. And prepare to be charmed, amused, and maybe a little bit exhausted. Just like Marilla, you’ll be okay. Probably.

Because at the end of the day, Anne of Green Gables is more than just a story. It’s a feeling. A feeling of hope, of wonder, and of finding your place in the world. Even if you have to dramatically declare it from the top of a hill.