Yes. He has an odd, modeled, slightly asymmetrical face, and from so many angles he looks as though there's something he's not saying. And if this was the role an audience familiar with Powell and Pressburger knew him for—probably because of Iolanthe, I've been thinking a lot recently about stock characters and recurring casts and the metatheatrical effects thereof—I can only imagine it affected their initial reactions to Colpeper, who might have been less chilly and dubious if played, as originally cast, by Roger Livesey.
He also looked a little like Ralph Fiennes, I thought.
Hm. I've only seen Ralph Fiennes in Schindler's List and The Constant Gardener (although Oscar and Lucinda has been on my to-see list for years) and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, in which he was not exactly recognizable.
Yes--that was brilliant and daring. It sort of reminded me of how you're forced to identify with Norman Bates in Psycho after he's killed Marion.
(I haven't seen Psycho. But I think I was spoiled for it as soon as I knew what it was . . .) I'm curious for what other films this is true. The ones that come immediately to mind are M and The Collector (1965), which are also stories of serial killers, and then Peeping Tom, which I have yet to see. Is it more appropriate to portray murderers as human than Nazis?
I kind of think it's a shame Laurence Olivier never got the chance to play Luigi from Super Mario Brothers.
Or Pepé Le Pew.
There are a lot of ways to read that scene, I think.
Because so much of 49th Parallel is unconventional propaganda, I suspect the film would have worked better for me in some ways without the two-fisted heroics—they're in character for Raymond Massey's Brock, who joined up specifically to stomp some Nazi ass, but I'm perfectly willing to accept art and academia as causes worth fighting for without Leslie Howard's fisticuffs to hammer home the point. I suppose his character could be meant to represent all the people who disapprove from a distance until it affects them personally, but I think it's just as significant that even in wartime, research is still getting done and the paintings of Picasso are still beautiful and Thomas Mann, no matter how many copies of his books were burned in Berlin, is still receiving the appreciation he deserves.
And it was awfully convenient how aspects of the Native American tribe Leslie Howard was studying happened to exactly reference things the Nazis had done earlier in the film.
Yeah, and don't ask how the Blackfoot felt about that . . .
no subject
Yes. He has an odd, modeled, slightly asymmetrical face, and from so many angles he looks as though there's something he's not saying. And if this was the role an audience familiar with Powell and Pressburger knew him for—probably because of Iolanthe, I've been thinking a lot recently about stock characters and recurring casts and the metatheatrical effects thereof—I can only imagine it affected their initial reactions to Colpeper, who might have been less chilly and dubious if played, as originally cast, by Roger Livesey.
He also looked a little like Ralph Fiennes, I thought.
Hm. I've only seen Ralph Fiennes in Schindler's List and The Constant Gardener (although Oscar and Lucinda has been on my to-see list for years) and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, in which he was not exactly recognizable.
Yes--that was brilliant and daring. It sort of reminded me of how you're forced to identify with Norman Bates in Psycho after he's killed Marion.
(I haven't seen Psycho. But I think I was spoiled for it as soon as I knew what it was . . .) I'm curious for what other films this is true. The ones that come immediately to mind are M and The Collector (1965), which are also stories of serial killers, and then Peeping Tom, which I have yet to see. Is it more appropriate to portray murderers as human than Nazis?
I kind of think it's a shame Laurence Olivier never got the chance to play Luigi from Super Mario Brothers.
Or Pepé Le Pew.
There are a lot of ways to read that scene, I think.
Says the man who slashed A Canterbury Tale . . .
Because so much of 49th Parallel is unconventional propaganda, I suspect the film would have worked better for me in some ways without the two-fisted heroics—they're in character for Raymond Massey's Brock, who joined up specifically to stomp some Nazi ass, but I'm perfectly willing to accept art and academia as causes worth fighting for without Leslie Howard's fisticuffs to hammer home the point. I suppose his character could be meant to represent all the people who disapprove from a distance until it affects them personally, but I think it's just as significant that even in wartime, research is still getting done and the paintings of Picasso are still beautiful and Thomas Mann, no matter how many copies of his books were burned in Berlin, is still receiving the appreciation he deserves.
And it was awfully convenient how aspects of the Native American tribe Leslie Howard was studying happened to exactly reference things the Nazis had done earlier in the film.
Yeah, and don't ask how the Blackfoot felt about that . . .