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Tag: Diana Rigg

White II

Tuesday, 7 May, 2019

“As a 1970s kid there were no helicopter parents: you navigated the world more or less on your own, an exploration unaided by parental authority.” So writes Bret Easton Ellis about growing up in California’s San Fernando Valley in his latest book, White. It was a different place and a different time. The children and their parents were different, too, and “not at all like parents today who document their children’s every move on Facebook and pose them on Instagram and urge them into safe spaces and demand only positivity while apparently trying to shelter them from everything. If you came of age in the 1970s this was most definitely not your childhood. The world wasn’t about kids yet.”

White The young Ellis roamed the Californian streets, sometimes with friends, sometimes on his own, and he spent a lot of time in cinemas watching movies that had not been made for children. Horror films fascinated him, and he quickly became acquainted with fear, blood, sex, death, pain and loss. Nobody held his hand and he felt quite educated and entertained thanks to Brian De Palma, Diana Rigg and Vincent Price. The directors, the actors and their films said this is how the world works: “you win some, you lose some, this is life.” It was all part of growing up.

“The movies reflected the overall disappointment of adulthood and life itself — disappointments I had already witnessed in my parents’ failing marriage, my father’s alcoholism and my own youthful unhappiness and alienation, which I dealt with and kept processing on my own. The horror movies made in the ’70s didn’t have rules and often lacked the reassuring backstory that explained the evil away or turned it into a postmodern meta-joke. Why did the killer stalk the sorority girls in Black Christmas? Why was Regan possessed in The Exorcist? Why was the shark cruising around Amity? Where did Carrie White’s powers come from? There were no answers, just as there were no concrete connect-the-dots justifications of daily life’s randomness: shit happens, deal with it, stop whining, take your medicine, grow the fuck up. If I often wished the world were a different place, I also knew — the horror movies helped reinforce this — that it never would be, a realization that in turn led me to a mode of acceptance. Horror smoothed the transition from the supposed innocence of childhood to the unsurprising disillusionment of adulthood, and it also served to refine my sense of irony.”

Tomorrow, here, Ellis looks at what happens when actors, with their hunger to seduce and control and be liked, are exposed to criticism on social media.


John Steed exits

Friday, 26 June, 2015 1 Comment

“Daniel Patrick Macnee died a natural death at his home in Rancho Mirage, California, at age 93, with his family at his bedside, according to his son, Rupert.” So reads the statement on the actor’s website. Despite his many roles, Patrick Macnee was most famously John Steed in the 1960s’ British TV series, The Avengers. Paired with Diana Rigg (Mrs Peel), he was the elegant complement to her beautiful Holmes-like character and the couple were the embodiment of grace, charm and wit. Viewers wanted to dress like that, drive those cars and have machines that recorded phone messages.

As Macnee’s website puts it: “….The Avengers became known for its progressive approach to feminism, the female stars being more than a match for Steed… and a plethora of ‘diabolical master minds.’ The programme was also known for its creative team’s interest in stories about cutting-edge technology.”

For Patrick Macnee, who played many parts but will be remembered for one, here’s the introduction to the famous monologue from Shakespeare’s As You Like It, Act II Scene VII:

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts