Speaking of the Fourth Wall

Recently people have sent me notes about some faux pas an interviewer made where I understand she somehow facilitated the breaking of the fourth wall by publicly reading some fan fiction to the principal actors featured in the fiction or having them read it (I’m still not sure), and then asking them some questions about it. The fiction was slash of course and wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun for her if it had been anything but slash. I also understand the author of the slash was upset. I don’t really care that any of this happened, and I’m not going to cover it much here except to say 1) if you put something on the Web, you never know who’s going to pick it up; 2) if an interviewer is dumb enough to purposely humiliate her interviewees when it’s not expose’ journalism, she deserves what she gets from it. End of story on that one. Unvarnished thought: big girls don’t cry.

Onto the main point of this piece.

The notes reminded me that I had not finished a blog series about those who possibly influenced Richard Armitage. My plan had been to cover Constantin Stanislavski, Edward Gordon Craig and Bertold Brecht during Fanstravaganza 3 in 2012. I wrote about Stanislavski and Craig, but I never got around to Brecht. Mainly because it would have taken us too far off topic to be worth it at the time.

Brecht was a German playwright of the early 20th Century and one of the most noted adherents to the concept of breaking the fourth wall. The fourth wall, in case some of you missed it in the discussions of the last week or so, is the imaginary wall separating an actor or actors from the audience. To break it is for a performer to communicate overtly to the audience. This was one device in Brecht’s repertoire of alienation or distancing effects which were designed to startle the audience so as to interrupt any identification with the characters or the story being portrayed. The aim was to make the audience become aware they were watching a drama and thereby make them aware of reality. The ultimate objective was to ameliorate the social conscience. From Brecht’s perspective, that meant creating sensitivity to the working class and reception of the solutions propagated by Marxism.

No, I don’t think Richard Armitage is a Marxist. And at first I didn’t associate Brecht with him at all, and mainly because Brecht is a glaring antithesis to Stanislavski who preached identification with a character in portrayals to the point of an actor not only inhabiting the character but the character inhabiting the actor, and all of it designed so the actor could establish an unbroken line of thoughts and feelings with the audience but never with overt acknowledgment. This is clearly the approach Richard Armitage is following when he’s described his character biographies (more accurately autobiographies when he’s working) and his distancing himself from the cast during breaks to keep from breaking character. And this unbroken line of thoughts and feelings is such an apt description of what so many feel while watching his performances. To think of him employing something startling to break that is, well, unthinkable.

SkySpecial-4

But not so in his communications with us. They are in and of themselves overt and they always startle me when they come. How about you? :D And for about six years many of them have included verbiage designed to make us think on things for the betterment of society, make us pause long enough to maybe break the unbroken line. And look at the result. There is usually a flurry of amens (yes, I include myself in that chorus most times) when there’s instruction on behavior and usually there’s some action as a result. Brecht would be proud. ;-) Certainly, the cynical part of me almost finds the response laughable, but thankfully, the better part of me appreciates it for what I hope it is – a move to rise above the workings of a fandom and above the possible worship of a human being to something more important.

And maybe Brecht in no way influenced Richard Armitage. This is all speculation (thin speculation) on my part and not a definitive statement in case it’s not clear. And none of this is to say Richard Armitage is putting on an act or faking it when he sends a message, but never think communicating with the public is not a performance. And that’s not a criticism to call it that. It’s just characterizing his dealings with the public the last few years as something more than a simple conversation with a few people who admired his performances as his first communications seemed to be — the fun loving, easy going ones where he was like a giddy kid after Christmas and even acknowledged each gift he received. There also didn’t appear to be any awareness of fans being hyper focused on him, so no need to sublimate attention.

Candidly, I hate I missed out on that exchange because there was a vulnerability and natural quality to it that’s impossible now, and for those of you who participated, how cool. I’ve always thought that and wanted to say it to you but never have.

For the rest of you, if you haven’t looked at those earlier messages, do yourself a favor and read them here.

Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.Com

note: I guess I’ve said enough about the messages for now. Onto the next thing.

edit: and no, I wouldn’t be in an uproar if Richard Armitage were conned into reading some fan fiction like that. He’s a big boy. :D

Some of You Asked

I didn’t publish a post for Christmas, and a few of you have asked me about that. It’s not that I’m less aware of the Lord at Christmas. If anything, I’m more aware, and somehow putting up a message in this place seems awkward, seems disingenuous given my rhetoric which to me makes things plain but to others may be construed as rotten. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it doesn’t matter, and it’s possible to be very candid and still convey my heart for others as a follower of Christ. Make that flawed follower of Christ. Then again, the verse that keeps beating in my head is, “…whatever is not from faith is sin.” I hope that explains it.

I Gave Myself a Christmas Present

Harry Kennedy smiling

I’m sorry I’ve been a downer to some of you lately. It is a problem from time to time when my sane self wants to have a go at a blog piece. But I’m happy to report I am sufficiently demented today such that my tongue is so far in my cheek, I’m not sure it will ever come out. It being lodged in there has facilitated this post.

But before I begin, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and are still having a wonderful time. May that be the case all year round and without having to spend inordinate amounts of money. Since I’ve already waxed on about spending money at Christmas (also written as my sane self), I’ll refrain this time around. So yeah, this post is hopefully about something other than spending money on myself, which I did last week when I spent $118 at an Aveda salon.

Shame on me for admitting that. It’s crass to talk money like that, but I did spend $118 to get my hair done and get some product. For those of you who have been to an Aveda salon, had the treatment and bought some product, you know I got off cheap. And it’s really astounding I had the privilege when I consider I just did a walk-in on them. They don’t take walk-ins, but I walked in and announced I was getting my hair cut somewhere that day, and if they could work me in, great, and if not, that was fine too. They were cutting my hair 20 minutes later, and it felt good, ’cause they usually massage your head while they’re at it, and they’re into aromatherapy, so the massage not only feels good but smells good. It always makes me want to go to sleep and dream. In fact, I had a hard time staying awake, and afterward, in my groggy state, as I stumbled to the cashier, I felt they were doing me a favor to take my $118.

But that’s not what I want to talk about.

When I was first reading this year’s Christmas message from Richard Armitage, I was reading as I usually do, meaning my sane and somewhat cynical self reads those messages. That’s not to say I read them with an eye toward criticizing our object, but rather that I always read them with the understanding they are goodwill gestures from Richard Armitage, who is polite enough to still give a nod, if not a dance, to the ones he sees as partially bringing him. I appreciate that, but I never take those things personally. Until this year when for half a second, I felt he was actually talking to me.

See I told you my insane self was back. That I’m admitting this has to be about the most crazy thing I’ve done on this blog. (Can you say tin hat? Sure you can. :D) My sane self immediately admonished me, and the self-flagellation continued as I got notes from some of you telling me the same thing — that Richard was talking to me! Me!

Sane self continued to hold out and Christmas came, and yes, it was good; no media or barely any for over a day. The family and I had a wonderful time together. But yesterday morning, I asked myself what it would be like to believe after the rough year I’ve had and SO too, mainly SO, that Richard Armitage would encourage me specifically. That’s when I decided to let myself think it for a day. So yesterday morning I received the encouragement as a personal gift. May I say it felt good. The ultimate in a head massage, and yes the smell of it was wonderful.

It gave me the chance to relive something that I think was intended as sweet and is sweet, and well written too, since I think half the fandom felt like I did and thought he was talking to them personally. LOL!

Dear Richard,

Thanks again for your comforting words. They were a bit of a balm — when I let myself fully receive them without any qualms that it’s insane to see it as personal. I accepted your encouragement as from another human being. Maybe not someone I know, but someone who seems to be sweethearted, and I really do appreciate that about you. Does it mean you can never be harsh or irritated about something? No, I’d say that makes you human. And that’s okay.

And even though I’ve couched this message in some fun, and I’m putting the fake fan letter tag on this post, I mean this sincerely. Thank you.

Signed,
Stuart Smalley A crazy fan who hopefully will have a better 2014 than 2013, and I fully expect to see heaven.

P.S. Oh, and if I ever do make it back to a fan event, I want you to know you will be able to spot me easily as I’ll be wearing this:
il_570xN.171626514

Catch you later.

Will someone please, please buy me that hat?! Found here.

There Will Be Pictures or Aspiring Armitage Part II ?

December 24, 2013

Richard Armitage YowzaA year ago I gave my opinion of the marketing of Richard Armitage. I still feel that way as the deluge of photos of him are released on the Web, but I’m a realist and figured if I didn’t want to just dig my heels in about my opinion, I could have some fun with this. Obviously, I chose the latter, and I’m probably always going to choose the latter, and when I don’t choose the latter, it would be just one continuous bitch session. That’s no fun.

But while I’m on this subject, I think I will vent just a wee bit.

I hope after four years (January 2011 to December 2014) of his life being invested in The Hobbit, that Richard Armitage gets some really fine roles. I long to see him in roles like Daniel Day-Lewis plays or Russell Crowe plays or roles that any number of actors of that caliber often play. Yes, I’ve said this before, but I’m compelled to say it again. This means I welcome him playing ugly and damaged characters, and he could shave his head and truthfully, it wouldn’t make me drink. I think it would some fans, and I understand that. When I was first a fan (too long ago to admit at the moment), I didn’t want to see him like that either although Sparkhouse was the role that sold me as a fan for life, and honestly, they could have ditched the makeover and it would have been a better show. Anyway, I’m long past needing to see the heartthrob, and I’m in the minority. But I can’t change the fact I’m ready for him getting down and dirty in some roles about the human condition.

In the meantime, I’ve decided to laugh and have fun with the plastic period and hope that he’s still in the mode of thoughtfully assessing what to do next.

And yes, I’ve wondered at times if Richard Armitage really is about 10 years or more behind in terms of life’s experiences. It’s hard to believe that, but sometimes I do think he’s naive and is more like a 20 something coming into notoriety instead of a man in his early 40s. That is not a criticism of him. Not at all. It’s merely an assessment, and most of the time he is so level headed. I guess I just really do hate to see him succumbing to something much younger actors succumb to and then have to work their way out of — the marketing of shallowness that others seem eager to foist on us.

If I had wanted to just be a fan of someone who had some really fine beefcake, or who was drop dead gorgeous, there was plenty to choose from. Plenty. I don’t see him that way or rather that’s not all there is to him, and it’s not the best part, but it seems to be mostly what we’re seeing lately. To his credit, he does try to elevate most discussion. I realize that and do give him tons of credit. I just hate like hell he has to go through the Hollywood machine to find great roles. Does it have to be that way? I really wonder.

edit: I started to call this “Becoming Jane.” :D No offense, Jane. I’m just teasing, but I also feel more as you do as I go on.

I will try to limit my criticism of the marketing ’cause I really do know it’s not fun to read this.

Richard’s Wish

I was watching this the other day, and I literally (yes, I mean literally in that I really) laughed out loud. :D

I understand Richard would like for the Army to get drunk. If he happens to be researching, I have some news about this desire. A cocktail won’t do it, but I have just the thing to make us get completely blitzed, and I started to second guess this idea until I saw this:

Richard Armitage Yowza

No second guessing now. I know there’s a way to make us all get drunk.

Dear Rich,

If you want to ensure we get blasted, I have a tip. Merely shave your head. You do that, and I guarantee you will drive most of the fans to drink.

I’m trying to imagine this picture with you sans hair. Phew. Even the thought of that makes me want to reach for some alcohol.

Signed,
A crazy fan, who adores your hair! :D

P.S. It would be a total hoot if you really did shave your head. I expect it one day if you’re a serious actor and especially if you want to make good on going ugly and damaged. ;-)

P.P.S. Leaving the snark for a moment. As much as I love your hair, I would love to see you in the ugly and damaged roles. Something real. Bring it on.

I’ve Got It! And In Time for the Holidays!

Have you felt like Ralphie lately:

Ralphie Christmas Story

trying to figure out what the hell this means:

Sarah Dunn Photo Shoot 2013

Have you been wondering if that was RA’s Three Stooges impression, or was he trying to tell us something? And if he was trying to tell us something, what was it?! What?!

Wonder no more. The other night I was drunk so tired my mind relaxed enough that it came to me, and now I bring you this translation as a public service:

1st part
1. Two parts Grey Goose — it’s smooth but has a kick.

2nd part
2. One part Licor Bellota, which is made from acorns. No, I’m not kidding; trust me.

3rd part
3. Two more parts Grey Goose. Yeah, I know, it sounds nuts, er, crazy, but hey, the Bellota is non-alcoholic.

4th part
4. One part heavy cream on top, and while I’m thinking about it, perhaps a dash of Ovaltine. Oh hell, you decide.

Maybe I should have said this first, but an old fashioned glass is perfect, so crawl up to the top shelf where you keep them. Damn, why do you keep them so far out of reach?

SarahDunn -01 2013

And you’ll love me when you end up with a nice cocktail:

Thorin Cocktail

It’s called the Thorin Grin:

Thorin Grin

Damn right even that grump Thorin would be grinning after drinking this, and when you drink it, not only will you grin, but you can do this without riding in a barrel or even leaving your seat.

1st Rule of Social Media

Never forget it’s global.

It used to be said that television could eat up material, but television’s got nothing on social media. Mainly because most of us don’t have the ability to also broadcast via television. But not so with social media. We can broadcast and rebroadcast to our hearts’ content.

And if something has been posted no matter where it originated, it’s out and no longer new. But people can still take it and share it on social media thereby making it even less new. It’s like a shot that ricochets to parts unknown — until someone makes them known. Unfair as that seems, it’s true.

Case in point is my last post with Sarah Dunn’s photo of Richard Armitage. A commenter took exception to its being new. Since I haven’t been following along, I didn’t realize it wasn’t new. But a trip to tumblr and Twitter made it abundantly clear that the photo has been seen and seen and seen long before it was posted on Sarah Dunn’s Facebook page as a Christmas present to the Army. And with this bunch, there should never be underestimation on not only the items having been seen (we have reconnaissance officers that would make other military envious) but also in the ability and readiness to articulate what is found, sometimes within seconds! LOL!

So why this post? I know the global aspects of social media are ferocious. This post is big fat reminder to myself to always do homework. As for Sarah Dunn, it’s her business how she treats this global rule. For now I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt because I do believe she was giving added value by her overt willingness to let us play around with her pictures. And that is new. I also like her style, so yeah, I like her page and have no compunction about encouraging others to do so.

Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful

Like Sarah Dunn instead for being so amenable to giving us photos of our guy.

Richard Armitage 2013

Click the photo to reach her Facebook page.

Thank you again, Richard

Richard Armitage’s annual Christmas message just appeared at RichardArmitageOnline.

19 December 2013

Hi everyone,

Well I just wanted to come on line and wish everyone a Happy Christmas (Turkey Day or Holiday, depending on your preference) it’s been another wonderful year, which has been full of hard work, fun and surprises. Thank you for your continuing support of my work, I hope you never underestimate what that means to me personally. Seeing so many at the LA premier (sorry about the un fan-friendly red carpet) Berlin, London, Madrid is really the highlight of the year. I am very proud to have such a dedicated community of ‘well wishers’ (better word than fans…right?) Proud because of the dignity and decency with which you communicate with each other and document your ideas. It’s always illuminated with positivity and support for each other, unlikely friendships forged through a common interest. That makes me proud, and brings me to my real reason for the message. To say a huge thank you to Annette Gill, who has worked so hard on her web pages, doing exactly what I just described in a very elegant way. I think she is truly a wonderful journalist and archivist and I would like to thank her personally for all the time she spent creating and updating the site.

I wanted to wish you love and happiness for 2014, thank you for the generous gifts and the donations to the ‘Just Giving’ pages I think our totals are looking very healthy.

Without getting into a pulpit or onto soap box, (cynics tune out now!) I want to say that for me especially as I get older, this time of year becomes more about making the journey to be with family or friends and sitting around a table which hopefully has some good food on it, however bountiful that is. But for those who don’t have very much or are alone, I wish them at least a sense of peace for a day. I know that I am happiest when I can be useful, which usually involves giving time and effort towards something. That gives me peace. (Guess who’s making the gravy this year!!)

This quote isn’t meant to be maudlin, because I actually find it uplifting, but it expresses what I mean. It’s Sonya from Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya.

What can we do? We must live out our lives….we shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live all through the endless procession of days ahead of us, and through the long evenings. We shall bear patiently the burdens that fate imposes on us. We shall work without rest for others, both now and when we are old. And when our final hour comes, we shall meet it humbly…. we shall enter on a bright and beautiful life. We shall rejoice… A tender smile — and — we shall rest. We shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven shining like a jewel. We shall see evil and all our pain disappear in the great pity that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as peaceful and gentle and sweet as a caress. I have faith…we shall rest.

fumblingly sent from my iPad

Interesting message, and one that is so appropriate for me to hear today. And how I pictured Richard as I read the note:

RAatBookofNZ-creditHeatherVideos

Dear Richard,

I hate to admit I’m always surprised you still give messages to the fans. That is not meant as a slur on your character but rather an acknowledgment that you’re a busy man.

So thank you for the message and especially one that seeks to give great comfort, and for this person does give comfort.

Many blessings to you and yours,
A well wisher :)

Yes, I’m still putting the fake fan letter tag on these ’cause I don’t have a better tag at the moment. I’ll have to think of one for the future.

Candid photo courtesy of Heather Siemon

Tangent — I’m in a Funky Mood

This isn’t a critical commentary on fandom or my being a fangirl, or maybe it is. I’m not sure yet. Frankly, I would have loved to have participated more in the Berlin premiere festivities and all that’s ensued since. I just couldn’t. The events of my life for the last two and half weeks have been consuming and surreal. But first a little history.

For those who haven’t figured it out yet, and I think I said it one time on blog, SO is a vicar in a small town. Yes, that’s right, I’m Harry Kennedy. ;-) And as SO’s significant other, I’ve seen and done many things that sometimes confound me at how life has turned out. When I was pondering what I would be when I grew up, I don’t think anything to do with a vicar ever factored into it. And if someone had told me I would be intimately involved with a vicar, I would have laughed until I wet my pants. For the record, SO wasn’t a vicar for the first almost 20 years I knew him.

But SO being a vicar the last several years means we often deal with tragedy and sometimes deal with death. And when I say deal with it, I mean not only going where tragedy and death have occurred on occasion in order to help the people involved but also having an open door policy to our home, so that hurting and devastated people can come see us when they want. When my kids were little, we put a limitation on this, but despite that, my children have seen and heard a lot of what goes on in the world that’s ugly. We have had drunk people, beat up people, devastated people in our living room on many, many occasions. As to death, SO and I also see the side that most of the public does not see very often if at all — being with someone when they die, the coroner coming to call, the undertaker showing up not long after and sometimes witnessing the devastation left by someone who has killed himself. These are experiences I’ve had countless times since we moved to this place.

To top that off, for over ten years I sat on the board of a cemetery district which oversees cemeteries in a few of the little towns around here, and when you deal with small cemeteries, it means you may be overseeing burials. I’ve overseen countless burials and a couple of reburials, and that includes sometimes standing in an open grave. I remember one time standing in a particular grave where a woman being buried was to be placed beside her parents, who had died about 70 years earlier. When we were preparing the grave, the ground was very soft, and the coffin of one of her parents had shifted a little so that its corner was poking into the woman’s grave site. I looked over and the wood had rotted enough on the buried coffin that there was a hole big enough for my hands to fit in up to my shoulders, and I could see some of the blousy liner coming out of the hole. Yeah, that was creepy, but I got over it.

And I’ve gotten over so many things. Looking at a hole in a buried coffin is nothing. I’ve gotten over being with two teenage boys in the counseling room at the high school when SO told them (at their mother’s request) their dad had committed suicide an hour before, and they had to be told so that the town’s people wouldn’t break it to them. I got over watching a man rejected by his father on the father’s deathbed. I got over one of my closest friend’s sons being lost in the river and being with her when Search and Rescue came to tell her several days later that his body had been found 8 miles down the river. He was 18. I got over the guy down the street shooting himself in the head with a shotgun, and SO and I being asked to come to the place before it had been cleaned up. And I could go on and on with much worse.

Maybe I’m not completely over these things as it’s hard to type this. But when I say I’ve gotten over something, I mean enough to bounce back and do what needs to be done. That’s always been my best ability — to roll with the punches no matter what they are, and I’ve done it and done it and done it, but on Monday, December 9th and the following days, I was almost in a zombie like state.

What created my malaise was three deaths occurring the week before and then about 15 minutes before the premiere started, I got a call about a dear friend of mine who had been careflighted to the city and died within a few hours. No one knew she was ill. The next day I was talking to another friend and said to her how it’s eerie these things usually happen in threes, but this time it was four. As soon as I said it, I stopped and had the horrible thought that this was the beginning of the second three. The next day two more deaths occurred.

All of this is a very small part of the terrible events I’ve come close to over the last 15 years. I ask myself sometimes if it’s only SO’s profession which makes me privy to so much heartache. That’s some of it, but I’m not sure. I don’t know anything except that tragedy has become the norm. Most days I can deal with it, but sometimes I get overwhelmed, and I think that’s a good sign. May I never become so accustomed to horror that it has no effect on me.

Is there any wonder why I want to be lighthearted and laugh when I come here? Does that mean Richard Armitage or anyone else is a lesser person? I hope not. Just know that my blog and many of my comments are supposed to be fun for the most part, and to make it something that is life and death is not my intent, and that’s not a judgment on anyone else. It’s where I’m coming from.

Given all of this, I don’t want to forget the point, which is to love people as God loves, help others as often as I can, and never weary of doing good. And I appreciate this:

Pope-Francis-Kissing-disabled-Man

And I keep listening to this:

I had to get this post out of my system. Now that it’s done maybe I can get back to cutting up. And I’ll be giving my review of Desolation of Smaug and not whimping out by letting SO do it for me as I did last year. Just need to go see the movie and keep staying away from other reviews and spoilers.