I had a dream...
...last night which, while not up to spacefall's standards, triumphantly filled the billing on a card I sent communicator recently, something on the lines of "I dreamed about Daniel Craig last night and it was really nice."
I could trace the dream's genesis precisely. Last night, FilmFour showed The Road to Perdition as part of their Paul Newman tribute season, which features Mr Craig as Newman's dissolute son. And when I'd finished watching that, I stumbled across a couple of episodes of Brideshead Revisited in which Anthony Andrews had got to a particularly dissolute stage of Sebastian.
So, naturally, I dreamed about Daniel Craig playing the dissolute son of a rich and powerful family, whom the heroine (occasionally me, but mostly a young dark-haired girl who fitted the plot a lot better) was very reluctant about marrying. But she had to, because it was some sort of romantic melodrama. However, all turned out fine, because just when she'd screwed herself up to face him on their wedding night - she was in a four-poster bed and everything - he drifted in wearing a glittery transparent gown, and it turned out he was a transvestite who wanted her to ravish him. (This bit appeared to have floated in from Radio Four's dramatisation of The Color Purple last week, where Shug Avery said something about her husband wearing her dress once.) I'm afraid that at this point my subconscious said sod the young girl, and muscled in, but of course that made me wake up.
I don't think I've got a Daniel Craig icon, so I'll have to make do with Chris Eccleston in Our Friends in the North because they co-starred.
I could trace the dream's genesis precisely. Last night, FilmFour showed The Road to Perdition as part of their Paul Newman tribute season, which features Mr Craig as Newman's dissolute son. And when I'd finished watching that, I stumbled across a couple of episodes of Brideshead Revisited in which Anthony Andrews had got to a particularly dissolute stage of Sebastian.
So, naturally, I dreamed about Daniel Craig playing the dissolute son of a rich and powerful family, whom the heroine (occasionally me, but mostly a young dark-haired girl who fitted the plot a lot better) was very reluctant about marrying. But she had to, because it was some sort of romantic melodrama. However, all turned out fine, because just when she'd screwed herself up to face him on their wedding night - she was in a four-poster bed and everything - he drifted in wearing a glittery transparent gown, and it turned out he was a transvestite who wanted her to ravish him. (This bit appeared to have floated in from Radio Four's dramatisation of The Color Purple last week, where Shug Avery said something about her husband wearing her dress once.) I'm afraid that at this point my subconscious said sod the young girl, and muscled in, but of course that made me wake up.
I don't think I've got a Daniel Craig icon, so I'll have to make do with Chris Eccleston in Our Friends in the North because they co-starred.