For a period of time in my tweens, our Sunday nights followed a certain ritual. Me and my two siblings would sit on the sofa, ignoring the fact that school was on the next day, and put on our battered DVD copy of Stardust.
The first time we watched it is lost to history, but its effect isn’t. Over time, it has become something of a cure-all, treating everything from a bad day at work to an overdose of adult cynicism.
