You should have seen me on set that day. I was a bloody mess. [Laughs.] It was a very important moment for me, for obvious reasons. I wrote the “wedding night” episode in season five, which was a huge turning point for Sansa and for Theon. They are the only two people in this world that know know what the other endured, because they both were the victims of this abuser — sexual victims, psychological victims, pretty much every way you can be victimized, he inflicted upon them. They both survived it. They’ve both come through it. They both have a very long way to go, but they know that they have each other. I actually worked for a while on a dialogue scene between them where they talk all about it. I never even turned it in — it didn’t even make my first draft — and no one ever has read it but me. It felt like recapping something everyone had already seen. The audience knows what they endured. Those characters know what they endured. Having them talk about it felt forced, it felt contrived, it felt like I was writing a scene to answer my critics, which is not the reason you should write a scene. And when you have actors like Sophie [Turner] and Alfie [Allen] and a director like David [Nutter], you don’t need that stuff. So a scene that I never got right became distilled to what’s there: “I’ve come to fight for Winterfell if you’ll have me,” and then that shot in the middle of the song where they’re sharing a meal together. They’re drawing strength from each other even now. Having them share that meal on what could be their last night in the world spoke volumes.
Bryan Cogman about the scene where Sansa and Theon reunite and embrace (via sophietisthebest)
Jaime knighting Brienne was such a beautiful scene. Being a knight was something she dreamed about ever since she was a little girl, thinking that she would never get to be that. Yet here she is being knighted by someone she loves and respects. She deserves this so much.
This reflection is about the 1974 film, Swept Away, directed by Lina Wertmüller. It is not about the 2002 remake of this movie, which stars Madonna.
The volatile, isolated relationship between Gennarino and Raffaella made me very uncomfortable as I witnessed the two individuals bicker about a variety of issues from democracy to taxes. Then, they eventually start to enjoy each other’s companies, or it at least appears that they are starting to become fond of each other. Gennarino and Raffaella even start to have sex. They communicated by surviving on an ideal island void of yachts, champagne, and spouses. After suffering an extended period with no luxuries, the hostility between Gennarino and Raffaella evolves into a negotiation of lifestyles. Gennarino quickly roasts meals and lives in shelters as Raffaella eventually gives in to his order and command. I did not know how to respond to their acceptance of each other after witnessing the two characters cuss at each other and viciously fight on a desert shore. I was even more stunned by the brooding power of class or economic status that controlled Raffaella. Her power is inevitable once Gennarino and Raffaella leave their twisted form of paradise. She returns to her bourgeois lifestyle leaving Gennarino stuck with his struggling third-world culture. I was anticipating that Raffaella would have a change of heart towards her servant. Then, it dawned on me why Wertmüller would build up and tear down Gennarino.
There is the sense that Wertmüller wants her audience to feel shocked, disturbed or even frustrated with how distant the servant and the socialite truly are. Their class controls a specific character. It is as if power and selfishness manipulates every move that Raffaella makes once she is back home. It makes more sense now why Wertmüller mentioned Caligula while talking with Ernest Ferlita since he was consumed with the same ideals revealed in Raffaella. She never felt true, intimate concern for Gennarino. She thinks according to her husband and their democratic principles. Her adamant contradiction towards third-world classes is why I was so shocked by the heartless ending. She never had a heart in the first place. She personifies the materialism associated with the bourgeois class. Wertmüller paints her as a victim privileged by her class. Yet, I only recognize her as a victim on the island, not on the dock. She receives back her identity once they are rescued. A scene that was pivotal in the relationship between Gennarino and Raffaella was when Gennarino skinned and roasted the rabbit. Raffaella realized that she was nothing without her democracy and wealth. She even cried to Gennarino that she felt like that rabbit. She is metaphorically being stripped of customs that spoil her. I even felt sympathy for Raffaella as the medium shot unflinchingly focused on her desperate, hurt expression. Then, the tension between the two main characters adheres to how Wertmüller thinks. She feels that men and women should not be separated, according to an interview with Ferlita.
As Gennarino and Raffaella are stranded, the island is representative of society, but the isolated desert also does not have the luxuries that allow Raffaella to feel like that she is above everyone else. The dominance of each role becomes reversed once they are stranded on the island. It is also through the freedom of the isolation that Gennarino and Raffaella confront their difference. Although they start helping each other, there is always some distance between the characters. Bird’s eye angle showed Gennarino and Raffaella fighting with each other. There are no close-ups or sudden cutting. It is just an abandoned atmosphere stained by a ridiculous feud. I do not feel a part of the feud, for it is their problem or circumstances. They are fighting, but there is no one to help Raffaella from her impoverished conditions. The extreme long shot amidst the desert only makes the bird’s eye angle more effective according to the mood of the ridiculous argument. No one is listening or paying attention to them. They have to deal with each other. The camera follows each individual around with the presence of classical cutting in order to develop his or her search for identity. It ranges from Gennarino reminding himself of his masculine traits or Raffaella helplessly wandering around the island. I think the island also symbolizes people who are built by the power of disorder because Gennarino and Raffaella are still the same people dictated by their class and country. They think everything is fine once they get to make love or make a necklace of flowers. The impending doom of betrayal only awaits them once they leave their illusion of harmony. I feel that Wertmüller made us uncomfortable as a means to think more critically about society.
I’m glad Lyanna wasn’t mean to Jorah. He suffered enough after he had to get peeled like a potato…
My mom (via shit-my-parents-say-during-got)
The Lair of the White Worm (1988)
Sanditon seems like it might do better on a bigger budget streaming service.
Hulu subscribers, you can vote for Hulu to pick up Sanditon - like they picked up The Mindy Project. You need to log in, then go to Ideas and search for Sanditon. Then vote!
https://community.hulu.com/s/ideas
hi, sorry to be a bother, but i was wondering if u knew any alternatives to Philippa Gregory?? I really want to get into Tudor history and I love historical fiction but I've heard so much criticism of her work xx
Unfortunately a lot of period books are going to be steeped in a certain level of creative license which sacrifices historical details to the ideal or romanticised effect. Most major Tudor writers – Weir, Plaidy, Gregory - are guilty of this. Personally I can look past this and enjoy the content for its historical setting and loose interpretation, but if that is a deal breaker for you there are a slim number of authors who will likely appeal to you. If you are disinterested in Gregory, I would recommend Alison Weir and Jean Plaidy. Their novels are chock full in historical references and are of a similar style to Gregory. As I understand it their’s are more credible, the exception being Weir tends to take a biased standpoint, and Plaidy is more of a story-writer than she is a historian.
You’ve probably already heard of Hillary Mantel’s Wolf Hall series. I read its entirety and enjoyed it, but there are errors strewn through it. On the opposite end, Adrienne Dillard’s works tend to be more true to history and from what I’ve gathered the author herself is an all-around good person. I highly enjoyed The Raven’s Widow as opposed to Gregory’s interpretation to Jane Boleyn. Olivia Longueville is also a recommended author. Sharon Kay Penman, Ken Follett, Katharine Longshore, Diane Haeger, and Margaret George all have interesting and well-researched reads. I loved the Autobiography of Henry VIII by George. It reads fantastically.
I hope this helps! Enjoy your summer reading.
august slipped away | sidney/charlotte