LocusNOLA's Replies


Houseman. And Misheel. I'm aware. And yes, he was. Also very good in "2:22," believable American accent in both. Great in "Treme," "Nashville," "Orphan Black." Pronounced Italian well in "Age of Adaline." But British English speech seems quite beyond him. She is at that point being spun round and round by Willoughby, so . . . The film was not made on Guernsey for a number of reasons, including the fact that the roads are insufficiently wide to accommodate filming equipment, or so I have read. Dawsey Adams is not and was not in love with Elizabeth. She's adorable, as I said. I do think she is outshone a little, but it all works for me. I can even handwave Huisman's accent. I'll be watching again. Yes, and I've watched it with pleasure twice. It's adorable, and the performances are quite good, though Michiel Huisman hasn't much to do other than look gorgeous and be nice, both of which he does quite well. His British accent isn't good. But he does have an almost inhuman ability to generate screen chemistry with quite a variety of actresses, and does so here. Performances of the film, for me, are Penelope Wilton as Amelia Maugery and Katherine Parkinson, even better as Isola Pribbey. Wilton is so sharply moving in her role, and the sheer delicacy of Parkinson's performance is exquisite - I loved her character in the book, rejoiced at the casting, and expected to love Parkinson. She blew me away. Tom Courtney is marvelous as Eben Ramsey. As Elizabeth McKenna, Jessica Findlay Brown is sharp and spot on. Lily James is adorable and believable as Juliet, Matthew Goode is charming and effective as her publisher / best friend. Well. that is exactly what I am hoping it will be like, when it's available here in the US. I love the book. Thank you. Good, point. I believe, however, that tithes were responsible for structural maintenance of the church as well as for the maintenance of the Vicar, Rector, or Parson and his domicile. I'm with you on this. Here are some of the reasons Whedon's version works better than Branagh's: 1. Whedon's characters occupy a consistent and cohesive universe - Branagh's "family" members seem unrelated, there is such a polyglot of accents, colors, differing abilities with the language, while the "family" aspect of Whedon's setting is clear and intimate. 2. In Whedon's film, I saw for the first time Boracchio made a human being, rather than a plot device. Having him be in love with Hero himself makes sense of actions which, in every other production I've seen, live or filmed (and there have been quite a number), have to be handwaved. 3. Nathan Fillion versus Michael Keaton. I would be the last person to assert that Fillion is a more accomplished actor than Keaton, but there is no contest as to which makes a better Dogberry. We shouldn't sympathize with the (in Branagh's version) injured and humiliated Conrade when he calls Dogberry an ass. I blame Branagh, not Keaton. 4. "Sigh No More," which Branagh makes the theme song. Why use it three times? Why, at the end, do the engaged couples romp merrily to the musical assurance that faithlessness is the inevitable outcome? 5. Sean Maher versus Keanu Reeves. Here, again, there is no contest as to the better Don John, villainous brother to Don Pedro (how are we to believe that Keanu Reeves and Denzel Washington are related?). Reeves' truncated dialogue still shows his glaring inability to handle the language, while Maher's smooth snake is compelling and masterful. I love Maher's filching of a cupcake as he leaves the wedding he's despoiled - that was Maher's own touch. 6. Alexis Denisof versus Kenneth Branagh. Denisof is, for once, clearly a soldier - watch him check out the security and perimeters from his window as he and Claudio discuss Hero and marriage. Branagh's Benedick is all pyrotechnics - I admire, but remain uninvolved, while I do care what happens to Denisof's character. For a few. I laugh out loud every time. Oh, I adore it! But that's funny precisely because it's all, "give her the comfy chair!" Not real pain, not mutilation, and funny at the same time. I think Eliza Dushku is better than one-note, but "Dollhouse" presents a problematic concept - the lead actress (or actor) must remain recognizable and consistent, and this makes Dushku's Echo less interesting, as a performance, than, say, the Sierra of Dichen Lachman or, even better, the Victor of Enver Gjojaj. I think Dushku does a pretty good job with Echo/Caroline, but she isn't good enough to overcome the inherent difficulty of the task. I'm not sure how many actresses could have done much better, given the super-high quality of acting competition and the greater freedom the non-lead actors have. And I like the show very much, despite (I'll admit it) wishing they'd cast Amy Acker as Echo (although I don't think Dushku could have handled Acker's role as well as Acker did). Of what does identity consist? What makes us human? And the cautionary - like that lived in "Firefly" and spelled out in "Serenity," beware of power, whether governmental or corporate, usurping control of humans' individual destinies. Serenity (no "the," as has been pointed out), is my favorite of all time - it doesn't glisten and gleam with pristine sterility. It's rusty, dilapidated, you can almost smell the human life in it. The sinks are like those on old ships, a nostalgic touchstone. It feels lived-in - part of making Serenity's crew a believable "family." I love this show. I saw it long after it was canceled, happily, so I didn't live through Fox's betrayal of "Firefly," Joss Whedon, and the viewers, and, given the wrap-up of the film "Serenity," I don't absolutely need to see the story continue without Wash (oh, Alan Tudyk! What an actor!). But I watch, re-watch, and introduce friends with more re-watching. Two words: moral authority. Nathan Fillion as Captain Mal oozes it - he's a natural leader. Not the best leader, not the smartest, but the natural one among this crew. Jayne lacks this quality and, without being able to articulate it, has a near-superstitious fear of power he doesn't understand or possess. Is there any other torture scene as funny as these? And I say that as one who cringes and shuts her eyes at such. But I can watch these because of the extreme laugh-out-loud humor. Actually, the "cozy-family" quality of "Firefly" is one of its best qualities, for me. That said, I think Book' death give Captain Mal the final certainty of belief he needs to take on the Alliance. As for Wash's death, it's shattering. But, seeing that death, seeing River take the helm, I am satisfied, dramatically. Plus, Wash being gone reconciled me to the end of the series. I don't need to see more of River's journey - I am fine with what I have. The "light set" used for this film, as Whedon put it, "rose in the east and set in the west." The value and income of an Anglican clergyman's living varied widely - some had tenancies, providing rental income, some had working farms, providing income from crop sales. Some, like the living at Delaford, has very little in the way of income-producing activity, and were only viable for a a quite well-off man. Elinor has about 50 pounds a year, until her mother dies; Edward has about 100 - not a living income at that time. The living at Delaford does not produce enough (200 pounds annually) to keep a gently-reared man and his wife, let alone a family. Mrs. Ferrars, in the book, gives Edward 10,000 pounds - the same amount she settled on Fanny when she married John Dashwood. This additional capital produces income which enables them to live in comfort, but not in a manner to rival Colonel Brandon's lifestyle. Well, I will acknowledge the likelihood of Willoughby being a spoilt child - so handsome, so charming, how not? But to ascribe his mercenrariness to a sense of family duty - as a writer of fanfiction, I am well aware of "fan theory," but I think one ought to have at least a bone-shard of skeletal canonical support for the vast quantity of built up musculature a "theory" as greatly variant as this requires. At least some hint of it. Which I cannot discern anywhere in Austen's prose. Had Willoughby really had a sense of the need to marry money for his family's sake, he'd have been assiduously seeking such a match in London, rather than gallivanting around in dalliance with any comely girl who caught his eye. As it is, i.e., in-canon, he has always vaguely "planned" to marry for money, but felt no rush, as long as he courted the favor of Mrs. Smith/Lady Allen. The only relation mentioned by Austen is, in fact, Mrs. Smith/Lady Allen; she is rich herself; Willoughby's shallow, short-term selfishness of habit with regard to Eliza/Beth alienates her wholly - unless he marries the girl, which he refuses to do. There would have been a way to ensure money, and he doesn't take it - the idea of marriage with Eliza/Beth is "impossible," though his debts have been increasing annually, since he came of age or earlier. Never once are any other relations to Willoughby mentioned; if your theories had gone only so far as to say his parents, being unmentioned, are likely deceased, and possibly before his coming of age; he may, therefore, have lacked sorely-needed guidance, I could not quibble. Please, provide something other than fancy, something textual, to support your theory - IMO, the text thoroughly wipes it out,