That's, like, what living is like, in'it?

So often, children in British cinema are plagued by unfulfilled longing, longing that, likely as not, stems from some small, innocent desire. We are privy to their dreams, but rarely see them satisfied. You can't help but feel outraged over the struggles of children in British movies, rowing their feeble boats against a current that insists on carrying them away into stories of injustice, abuse, bad plumbing, "never enough money in the house" and so on.

Just compare their fates for a minute with kids in American movies, who, year after year, seem to receive perks and privileges like execs at a Wall Street brokerage house. Amazing, isn't it, how the absence of Dickens and the presence of Disney can influence the course of stories in cinema?

On the other hand, the Brits have become an authority on the Art of Unfulfillment, and the message behind many movies is that fulfillment is more complicated and subtle than one likes to think. Perhaps the straightforward process of getting what you want is less interesting (and less fulfilling) than gaining a different, nuanced conclusion. Call it happiness on another level. Like asking for a gooey chocolate cake and instead finding a sketchbook with which you learn to draw. Something like that.