Current music:

Akira Kosemura -- "Glim"

in praise of Glenda Jackson, and blasphemy
At a store year or so ago, I picked up a used videocassette of a film from 1978 I'd never heard of before, due entirely to the fact that it starred Glenda Jackson. I have to admit that I haven't seen that many of the films she made before she retired, but I favorably remembered her performances in Ken Russell's "Women in Love" and "Salome's Last Dance", "Hopscotch" and "Turtle Diary". It wasn't until last night that I finally got around to watching the film, which was opaquely titled "Stevie".

As a semi-literate American, I confess I'd never heard of Stevie Smith, the British poetess. Of course, it's entirely possible that even literate Britons may not be familiar with Smith's American counterparts like Anne Sexton or Elizabeth Bishop (they're welcome to correct me if I'm mistaken.) But as I watched "Stevie", I developed not only an appreciation for Smith's writing but also an infatuation for Miss Jackson. I found myself unable to take my eyes away from her on the screen. There's something about her face that fascinates me as few living actresses can. The nearest peer I can think of would be Tilda Swinton; both are fine actresses with a preference for challenging roles, and they share an odd androgyny that comes and goes. With all due respect to Ms. Swinton, I find Jackson much more appealing with her Slavic cheekbones, cupid's bow lips and bob haircut (or, at other times, a pixie cut). And there's such bright light behind those feline eyes!




"Women in Love", 1969


(in her mid-50s)

Apparently I'm not Jackson's only fan. She's won the Oscar twice, and been knighted. She retired from acting in the early-'90s to enter politics, serving as a member of Parliament for the past 16 years, as well as recently being Britain's Transport Minister.

"Stevie" is a modest little film with limited locations and just four actors, but two of them (in addition to Jackson) are superb -- Trevor Howard and Mona Washbourne. The film is based upon a stageplay, and it shows. Howard and Jackson routinely break the fourth wall, and it's a slowly-measured and talky film, but it is never less than engaging; sometimes deeply affecting. Stevie Smith was a keen intellect, an extravagant smoker and drinker, a lifelong spinster, a suburban homebody, and an associate (and perhaps lover) of George Orwell. Mid-life, she had a nervous breakdown and attempted suicide, but it was a brain tumor that eventually brought death, whom she referred to as "the only god who must come when he is called".

Not Waving, but Drowning (1957)

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

(for any interested in a slightly longer example of Smith's poetry, here is her piece titled "Pretty")

If you have the opportunity to watch "Stevie", I recommend that you take it. Jackson is flawless, turning in a performance that is perfectly nuanced. She's also (to my taste, anyway) quite fetching, with a sort of gamine-librarian chic.

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Sharing two qualities with "Stevie" (namely being a film and frequently referencing death) is something I saw in the theater a few days ago: Bill Maher's "Religulous". I can think of few films I've watched in the past few years that caused me to laugh out of control in the theater. "Religulous" was one. Of course, Maher had a sympathetic audience in me given that I'm an atheist of 6.5 on the Dawkins Scale, and I could really use a laugh right now about the political morass we're in. Maher delivered the goods with a film that makes you laugh, think and even question the host. It's a chilling exposé of the Yahwehist movement that seeks to rule (and destroy) the earth, wrapped in some of the most absurd and hilarious costume imaginable. One might say that religiosity is an easy target, but the fact is that it's very seldom actually fired at, given the absurd deference given to beliefs and believers. Maher's film won't tip the scales by itself, but it will provide a nudge in that direction. I hope.