Our Mutual Friend
Bit premenstrual and weepy today, and rewatching Our Mutual Friend, which I first saw in 1998. Then, of course, I was watching it for Mr McGann, although I didn't like his Victorian moustache one bit. Now that I no longer have such a ridiculously intense crush on the man, I can appreciate properly both his beauty and his performance - as a habitual underplayer of roles, he's perfect as the "susceptible to boredom" gentleman Wrayburn.
Ten years ago, I had eyes only for our Paul (moustache or not), which means I missed something: DAVID MORRISEY IS FUCKING INCREDIBLE IN THIS. FUCKING. INCREDIBLE. I didn't even remember that he was in it, and then my mum reminded me of the scene in the graveyard where Morrisey, as Bradley Headstone, delivers one of the greatest train wrecks of a proposal in English literature. He leaves Mr Darcy, Mr Collins, and Mr Guppy in the dust.
Do all Dickens novels have a model woman? Lizzie Hexam (Keely Hawes lulz) is this novel's example, awakening the feelings of both Wrayburn and Headstone, both of whom are basically overgrown boys. I don't think of them has ever been in love before - certainly not Headstone, who is shattered at his first sight of Lizzie, and has absolutely no idea how to cope with his feelings. Like Lizzie, you can't help feel sorry for him, but also terrified of him - he goes from pathetic to monstrous in seconds and she and you both knew he would.
(His horrible pallor there reminds me of a body language book I read way back when, which explained that a red-faced person shouty probably isn't a danger, but a white-faced shouty person is shifting blood to their muscles and internal organs for the attack. Eep.)
I'm rewatching this with the plan of reading the book later in the year. I don't know if Headstone is thought to be based on a real person that Dickens knew, but the fragile ego, the craving for control, the possessiveness, the inability to delay gratification or handle anger, the way everything is someone else's fault, will all be familiar even if, like me, you've only read about the men who beat and terrorise their wives and children.
And here's a picture of S-Mac for my mum :)
(I think he looks a bit like John Hurt in this.)
Ten years ago, I had eyes only for our Paul (moustache or not), which means I missed something: DAVID MORRISEY IS FUCKING INCREDIBLE IN THIS. FUCKING. INCREDIBLE. I didn't even remember that he was in it, and then my mum reminded me of the scene in the graveyard where Morrisey, as Bradley Headstone, delivers one of the greatest train wrecks of a proposal in English literature. He leaves Mr Darcy, Mr Collins, and Mr Guppy in the dust.
Do all Dickens novels have a model woman? Lizzie Hexam (Keely Hawes lulz) is this novel's example, awakening the feelings of both Wrayburn and Headstone, both of whom are basically overgrown boys. I don't think of them has ever been in love before - certainly not Headstone, who is shattered at his first sight of Lizzie, and has absolutely no idea how to cope with his feelings. Like Lizzie, you can't help feel sorry for him, but also terrified of him - he goes from pathetic to monstrous in seconds and she and you both knew he would.
(His horrible pallor there reminds me of a body language book I read way back when, which explained that a red-faced person shouty probably isn't a danger, but a white-faced shouty person is shifting blood to their muscles and internal organs for the attack. Eep.)
I'm rewatching this with the plan of reading the book later in the year. I don't know if Headstone is thought to be based on a real person that Dickens knew, but the fragile ego, the craving for control, the possessiveness, the inability to delay gratification or handle anger, the way everything is someone else's fault, will all be familiar even if, like me, you've only read about the men who beat and terrorise their wives and children.
And here's a picture of S-Mac for my mum :)
(I think he looks a bit like John Hurt in this.)