One of my favorite things about Sing is that it’s such a character-based movie. We have all these quirky, different characters with their own stories, but they all get thrown together. And that’s so cool because it gives up so many different relationships to consider.
Like how do Ash and Nana Noodleman get along? Does Nana think Ash’s punk rock ways are degrading to ‘real’ music like back in her day, or does she think this spunky porcupine is inspirational and keeping music alive?
Maybe Meena is totally fascinated with Gunter’s German culture and surprises him by learning some of his native language, so that she can speak it to him whenever he is homesick.
Mike totally thinks Mrs. Crawley is crazy, but she’s the only one who still appreciates his Frank Sinatra style and tells Mike stories of what it was like to see Sinatra live.
We could totally have a scene where Johnny teaches Buster how to ride his skateboard and Moon has to hold on to Johnny to keep his balance.
Rosita’s helps Eddie become more independent by teaching him how to cook for himself and once he’s finally got it all covered, he makes a huge dinner for her and her family.
Like, there’s just so many different combinations of characters to work with and that’s so cool to me.
“Mmmmmm…” Sybil sighed contentedly. She stretched slightly, luxuriating in the feel of the muscular chest that cushioned her back.
A chuckle tickled her ear. “Happy?” her husband asked, a cheeky but charming note in his tone.
Sybil smiled and leaned back even more. “I am,” she murmured, sighing happily again. “I love days like this.”
Tom lifted an eyebrow at that. “You do?” he glanced outside, noting how hard the rain was coming down, making it near impossible to see anything. “It’s cold and gray, not to mention pouring kittens.”
Sybil giggled at his words. “True,” she sighed, snuggling further into the crook of his arm. “But that means spending our Sunday indoors where it’s nice and warm…” She practically purred those last words and Tom felt a pleasurable shiver run down his spine.
Despite the rain and spring chill outside, they had turned their Sunday into a pleasant one, complete with coffee and waffles in bed. After their impromptu Sunday bedroom brunch, Sybil snuggled in Tom’s arms, and together they read the Sunday paper. All in all, it was a rather pleasant day.
“And your sister said ‘the honeymoon phase won’t last’,” he chuckled, his lips pressing into her hair.
Sybil giggled. “And that was two years ago.”
Tom laughed at the memory and Sybil turned her head, grinning up at him before tilting her lips to meet his in a sweet, loving kiss.
“Aye, a perfect way to spend our Sunday, Mrs. Branson.”
A wicked twinkle seemed to illumine Sybil’s eyes then. “And it’s about to get better, Mr. Branson.”
Tom’s interest (and something else) rose at that. “Is it…?”
Sybil removed the newspaper from his hands and tossed it aside, before proceeding to show him just how.