Bromances: Holmes and Watson, Of Course

On Votaries I discuss various Watsons and Holmeses. 

Watson and Holmes are, of course, the ultimate bromance relationship. A bromance doesn't include sexual intimacy--the inference is that it could. 

So, regarding the couples I listed, how much does an undercurrent of romantic feeling or attraction show up between the couples?

David Burke and Edward Hardwicke and Jeremy Brett come across as concerned best friends. In many ways, they capture the English good-old-boys' relationship that could be entirely sexual but hey, it isn't as if anybody is going to say anything, so who cares? Or notices? Or talks about it?

Lucy Liu and Jonny Lee Miller impressed me. I was sure, due to the chemistry between the leads, that a sexual relationship would follow. It didn't. And yet despite (or perhaps, because) of all the Holmeses and Watsons on this list, I believe in the absolute unbreakable friendship of that relationship.

Jude Law and Robert Downey, Jr. deliberately and somewhat self-consciously present a bromance (maybe, it is an American thing--see below). That is, although the movie makes VERY VERY clear that the two have beautiful female significant others, they don't pretend, either, that they don't live in each other's pockets, refusing to be separated. 

Ben Kingsley and Michael Caine in Without a Clue: since Kingsley's Watson is employing Caine's Sherlock, the relationship is less bromance and more Andy and Barney though the latter relationship has its own elements of bromance!

Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch, interestingly, are more like Brett and Hardwicke/Burke than the others on this list. That is, the relationship is very British. They will fight and die for each other; at the same time, they exist on parallel tracks. 

The Britishers seem to have a knack for presenting the bromance without feeling any need to draw attention to it--or not. Perhaps due to the lingering public school system, Britishers seem to take the bromance rather for granted.

A number of shows on American television in the 1970s to 1980s used two male detectives. With the exception of Archie and Nero--who are entirely unique--an element of bromance resides in nearly all of them and much was made of the two men being pals. They were replaced within a decade with male-female investigatory partnerships. 

In Big Bang Theory culture, male-male detective partnerships may be returning! See White Collar, Psych, and Person of Interest (though the last rapidly expanded to become more like Major Crimes and Murdoch Mysteries, being comprised of a group rather than a duo).

 

The Smiles Sell the Scene: Charlie Chaplin

Real Chaplin

Murdoch Mysteries showcases real people from history. Sometimes, as with William Shatner playing Mark Twain and Thomas Howes playing Churchill, they are part of the mystery. Sometimes, as with the Wright Brothers and Buster Keaton, they make cameo appearances.

One of the coolest lessons of this conceit is learning how many famous people from history have overlapped, worked together, worked at the same time and in the same field. I had no idea, for instance, that Charlie Chaplin was friends with Stan Laurel. But he was! 

Fictional Chaplin

The actor who plays Charlie Chaplin on Murdoch Mysteries captures how dapper and charismatic Charlie Chaplin was outside of his adopted persona. Matthew Finlan does a fantastic job conveying the charisma, sharpness, energy, and ambition that the real man surely had. 

And that smile!

Agreeing with Nuttiness On Screen

One of the funniest reactions that an actor can give a character is to nod along to craziness. 

It is an entirely unconscious gesture. We all do it. When it is captured on film, it is hilarious.

That is, one person will start going on about conspiracy theories or evil co-workers or talking pets or...anything really. And the other person nods along. 

In face-to-face communication, the nodding usually entails understanding, as in, "I hear you" or "I am keeping up." Consequently, you will often see people nod "yes" and then say, "No, I can't."  

In Love by Chance, Season 1, when Saint and Plan as Pete and Can have their impromptu conversation about Tin, Pete continues to innocently nod to everything Can says even though Can is rambling, and Pete disagrees when Can asks him a direct question. 

Then Can bolts, leaving Peter totally confused. 

A related "nodding" scene takes place in My School President. Gun thinks that the student council should do something more inviting than "take a picture with the president" for the school fair. Tiwson agrees and argues that anything "would be better than this." He then addresses a female member of the student council who is sitting on the floor and basically getting on with things: "Do you agree?"

She nods nonchalantly and keeps doing what she is doing. Yeah, sure, why not? Whatever, guys. Just make a plan already.  

Very good comedy. 

Chemistry Continued: Reacting to Stuff

I discuss in a prior post what creates chemistry, platonic or otherwise, between actors. I list five factors:

1. The leads are attractive in the same kind of way. 

2. The leads match each other's energy in the same shot.

3. The leads are comfortable in their own skins and with each other. 

4. The actors play off each other. 

5. Je ne sais quoi. 

The next factor goes along with 2 and 4: The leads actually react to each other. 

Red Letter Media addresses this issue in his, uh, dismantling of the Star Wars prequels when he points out that even a skilled actor such as Ewan McGregor has difficulty reacting to a blue-screen. A huge creature with lightsabers shows up in front of him and...he doesn't even blink?

Jackson did much better with The Hobbit in large part because he stuck sensors all over people and had them crawl around the set.

It doesn't hurt, of course, to have Martin Freeman, who is a master at reacting subtly to external stimuli, facing down Andy Serkis, who is totally fun.

But, unfortunately, it is not unusual when watching television and even movies to get the sense that actors are simply waiting for their cues.

Can and Tin Again

One of my favorite scenes in Love by Chance, Season 1 occurs when Can and Tin end up eating at an outside university shindig. Tin is less than pleased since it is hot and Can loads him down with bags. Can says to Tin in his usual direct way, "Sorry. I'll wipe off the sweat. Where's your handkerchief?" 

Tin replies, "Front left pocket."

At which point, I become endlessly delighted because Can does what I do: he turns slightly to remind himself what is the left and right of the person he is facing.

The gesture is so quick and unself-conscious, I suspect the actor simply did it--and then the director said, "Okay, keep doing that" for the next 40 takes.

Using the actor who plays Can as a guide, an actor who makes these unthinking responses can inspire other actors. In Love by Chance, Season 1, Plan (Can) and Saint (Pete) have an extremely funny scene in which Can basically talks out loud about what a strange guy Tin is: hot but obnoxious with a great car but he's a terrible driver and so on. Saint plays a bashful, sweet, innocent character throughout most of that season but for a few minutes, opposite Plan as Can, Saint's straight-man comedic side shines, to the point where one wishes the series had given him more opportunities to be funny.

Likewise, Mean, who plays Tin, starts out ahead of many of the series' actors in terms of responding quickly to cues (a sideways glance of his eyes, for instance) but that ability increases as he plays opposite Plan as Can. 

And he responds to the existence of objects--as does Plan. In the second season, at the car, both he and Plan reach for the backpack on the hood at the same time. Plan snags it first but the responses emphasize that both actors don't forget their props. They remain aware that there is a backpack on the car despite the constant stops and starts due to "cuts." The action looks clumsy but is very realistic.

In commentary on a Numb3rs episode, Rob Morrow remarks that a guest director or guest actor can make a difference. Rather acerbically, he adds that sometimes, the lousiness of the guest can inspire others to try harder.

Reacting to stuff--not just saying, "Oh, it's my turn now?"--makes a difference.

Great Ex-Wife in Castle (and Columbo)

In "The Late Shaft," Castle and Beckett interview the first wife of a late-night comedian. She, Barbara, is the classical first wife who understands her ex-husband better than his later "trophy" wives. 

Columbo presents a similar character, Goldie, in "Blueprint for Murder." Both Goldie and Barbara are straight talkers. They both accepted the dead ex-husband as he was. However, their acceptance doesn't indicate a loss of toughness. They aren't doormats. 

Barbara, played by Beth Broderick, has two additional characteristics that stand out: a soft gentle sorrow to which Rick responds with a sweet smile--and a husky voice. Her notable line, "I told him, 'You're a lousy husband, but you're a hell of a man" is delivered with poignancy.

Beth Broderick is one of those working actors I admire so much. Such actors are always doing something all the time. Her first credited work is in 1983. She has a work in current post-production. She has done everything from Supernatural to mystery, including CSI. She was Monica Hunter in Leverage. She takes bit parts, guest parts, regular parts.  

Great character! Great actress! Great scene!

but you're a hell of a man."

Television Couples: Types Exist Even in Murder She Wrote

Chemistry helps to sell relationships. 

Chemistry isn't necessarily connected to looks, but certain pairings seem to follow certain actors and actresses. Graham Patrick Martin of Major Crimes did far better opposite Rene Russo as Gus than previous pairings (though the yuppie in "Do Not Disturb" was a strong contender--and interestingly enough, handsome in a similar way to Russo). 

Timothy Hutton seems to do best opposite European-looking women with angular, handsome looks: Gina Bellman and Kari Matchett. Randy on Home Improvement did best opposite blond, fragile-looking young ladies with sharp tongues. Michael J. Fox did far better opposite Tracy Pollan, the woman he eventually married in real life, than opposite Courtney Cox, but Courtney Cox and Matthew Perry made a great pair on Friends. 

Jessica's male companions on Murder She Wrote illustrate the issue. 

Including the devastatingly charismatic Keith Michell, who falls into his own category of wow-ness, Angela Lansbury as Jessica is often paired with handsome, interesting, debonair men. Michael Hagarty played by Len Cariou, for one. Her constant "steady" is Seth Hazlitt, played by William Windom. There's a nice vibe between them that goes beyond friendship. They don't marry or shack up, but the vibe gives a little punch to their scenes. 

In Season 7, William Windom was either off doing something else or the producers decided to throw in a "love interest." They chose Joe Dorsey as Bennett Devlin, who runs the Cabot Cove newspaper, to be Jessica's new best friend. He and Jessica meet when he publishes news about her. She thinks her life is nobody's business, just her books. He thinks she is news all by herself. Ah, Elizabeth/Darcy conflict! 

But the chemistry isn't there. Joe Dorsey is a distinguished gent, Darcy in a sweater-vest. William Windom is a grumpy teddy bear. Yet Jessica and Seth work far better. With Ben, I always feel that Jessica is being kind and calm and friendly--but not all that interested in his company. In addition, Lansbury's gift for comedy shines opposite Windom. With Dorsey, she comes off as mostly irritated.

Thankfully, William Windom returned or Bennett was written out. Chemistry sells! 

Sexy Without Even Trying

Like Gibbs and Spock, Don Matteo never brags or preens or poses or tries to be sexy. In fact, he doesn't seem to have a clue about his impact on, well, everybody. 

When he arrives back in Italy and gets assigned to the church near his hometown, his friend, the Cardinal says in irritation, "Just try not to look like--"

He waves his hands at Matteo. Matteo looks at him blankly. 

Don Matteo is played by Terence Hill or Mario Girotti. He began playing Don Matteo in 2000 when he was 61. He has Italian and American citizenship.

He is utterly gorgeous. Like Tony Denison, another actor who has aged very well, he exudes charisma. Maybe it's that Italian heritage or the underlying sense of humor. The lack of effort only ramps it up a notch--

Which, of course, is part of the attraction. It's the opposite of the seducer, the libertine, always searching for a tryst. With the Matteo type of handsome hero, the hero's eyes don't stray since they are too busy looking squarely at the world with bewildered exactness (Spock) or irritated demand (Gibbs) or, in the case of Matteo, patient kindliness.

It no doubt helps that the show is shot in jaw-dropping lovely settings. I feel like I do with Last of the Mohicans: look at the scenery!  

Romantic Dysfunctions in Crime Shows: James Read

James Read, possibly the sexist man in Hollywood after Ted Levine, shows up in numerous mystery shows. He very often plays a kind of shadowy, not entirely trustworthy man. In Columbo, he plays the murderer who kills off his wife's lover, not out of jealousy but for financial security.

In Lois & Clark, as Jimmy's father, he is a good guy who loves his son but as an international spy, he is keeping secrets and has a hidden agenda, even during his visit to Jimmy. 

Star Trek: Voyager is an interesting departure in the sense that he is actually the man he states himself to be. The two-parter "Workforce" (one of my favorites) presents a conspiracy/thriller/mystery. He is still the odd man out since he is the only one, among the Voyager investigators, who is not something other than what he appears. Personally, I didn't see why he couldn't join the crew and become the captain's househusband. He comes across as a fairly low-key guy!

But his choice to move on for work isn't improbable. The uncertainty about where the character will jump next comes down to the slightly enigmatic aura of the actor's persona. James Read's character in an episode of Murder, She Wrote turns out to also be a good guy, yet he is (again) an ex-spy. That hint of "hmm, maybe not so good" lingers: can he be trusted? 

It's an interesting form of typecasting. What is it about James Read's nearly cherubic yet angular features that invites distrust? Or is it the actor? He signs up for those roles after all.

Since he is one of those Hollywood actors with a very successful second marriage, the typecasting is about the persona, not the person. The key seems to be, Once you do one role in Hollywood, better be prepared to do it again!

Agatha Christie Pair: The Strong Partner with the Weak Significant Other

In my post about Christie relationships, I mention that "sometimes the passionate exuberant gal really does want the limp, waffling idiot."

This is Sittaford Mystery, in which the practical, straight-talking fiancee tackles the case in order to save her rather weak-willed, not entirely ethical, easily led husband-to-be. 

She doesn't manipulate anyone but she does use male appreciation to her own ends. Consequently, the far-more-deserving reporter who helps her is (momentarily) hurt when she clarifies that she always intended to return to her fiance. She never pretended otherwise. Despite she and the reporter working so well together, she fully intends to marry the waffling semi-criminal blah guy. 

The reporter's hurt fades the moment a new story comes along. But the event points to one of Christie's great insights. She was willing to write the classic Harlequin romance where the supposedly domineering, strong-charactered Darcy gets the vivacious Lizzie. But she honestly found it possible that the vivacious Lizzie might want...well, not Mr. Collins exactly but a good-natured, less sycophantic, equally weak-willed husband. 

Okay, okay, Lizzie would never! (Though Charlotte did.) Christie believed that another equally vivacious woman might. 

However, even with Christie, such romances don't take center stage. Watching other people be bullied into romantic feelings is like watching the more unlikable parts of Say, Anything or Clueless (or Emma) where friends pressure friends into dating certain people. 

The closest pairing--and most amusing--variation of this archetype among romances is the scatter-brained lover who requires an organized lover to stay organized. Or the accident-prone lover who requires a more organized lover to...not die. 

Yossi: Seeing a Film

I am continually surprised by how reviews of visual mediums can be so entirely non-visual.

Reviews of Yossi make my point.

Yossi is the 10-years-later sequel to Yossi & Jagger. Yossi is now a surgeon. He is still mourning Jagger's death. He is a stocky guy who in certain dress can look a tad dumpy. When a work situation nearly goes badly, he takes time off. After visiting Jagger's parents' home, he starts driving. He picks up some soldiers (quite literally--he drives them where they need to go). One of them, cheekily and cheerily "out", ends up picking up Yossi.

Yossi's self-disgust, his shame at his physical body is part of the story. The young soldiers captivate him not only due to their quandary (he reacts to their need for help like a low-key commanding officer) but because they represent the world he left and lost years earlier. They are easily self-assured with the exuberant physicality that accompanies their occupation and their age.

Here is what amazes me--how many reviewers take Yossi's self-disgust at face value. I'm not talking about those immature reviewers who complain that Yossi isn't "hot enough" to be paired with Tom (though I address that below) but rather those reviewers--even those complimentary of the film--who completely and totally accept Yossi as unattractive because the characters, including Yossi, say so.

First, Yossi is played by Ohad Knoller, and is so utterly attractive, no matter his age, that the issue of "hotness" is moot.

More importantly, however, he is a stellar actor.

Ohad Knoller uses physical language like a master. When he goes to a "hook up" early on in the film, he hunches in on himself like a wounded bear. His clothes and mannerisms and even facial expressions contribute to the impression that he has entirely changed from the man he was 10 years earlier.

However, when he is at the hospital, he carries himself quite differently. He is still unhappy, wary, quick to retreat into himself. But he has a role to play. Consequently, he carries himself with a kind of "parade" posture. He is tense but authoritative in his bearing.

He only truly relaxes with the soldiers. Entirely. He slumps easily in his seat, hands brushing the steering wheel. He smiles more. Although he is still reserved, his body exudes confidence and amusement. It is easy to see why Tom would find him attractive.

It is customary for fiction to present a gap between the narrator's understanding and the "reality" of the story. When it comes to novels and short stories, audiences seem ready to accept that gap: after all, language is slippery.

But in the visual arts, for some bizarre reason, audiences often seem ready to believe what they are told as opposed to what they see. It is less a matter of "what I see is what I get" and more a matter of "what I've been told to see, that's what I see."

But directors are visual people--they rely on images to communicate, and they expect communication to go beyond speech. 

It's no use blaming the evil media for "controlling" audiences with imagery if audiences are unwilling to ask themselves, "What did I actually see in the first place? What are the visual cues?"

Maurice: Rupert Graves

This movie is actually about Hugh Grant's character, and he delivers a convincing and credible performance, explaining why in 1987, it was already a given that Grant would go on to have a notable career. (Analysis of Grant's character Clive Durham will follow at a later date.)

However, I watched the movie mostly for Rupert Graves (Sherlock), whom I almost didn't recognize with that mop of dark, curly hair (see below). Rupert Graves is one of those amazing actors who has been working non-stop for three decades (yes, he did start working at 15) in film, television, and theatre (plus he's got a wife and five kids: when does he sleep?).

Maurice is based on E.M. Forster's book by the same title. The story of a gay relationship in early 20th century England, the manuscript bears Forster's note "Publishable but worth it?" on the cover page.

He didn't. It was published in 1971 after his death.

Maurice is based on a real-life couple that Forster knew: Edward Carpenter and his working-class lover George Merrill. They lived together from 1898 to 1928. There is a lesson in here somewhere about the oddities of English attitudes towards unorthodox behavior, specifically the reason why one is better served living in the country, writing intellectual tracts than acting like Oscar Wilde and bringing libel suits one is bound to lose.

In any case, Forster based Maurice's Maurice Hall, a gentleman, and Alec Scudder, a working-class laborer, upon the couple; reportedly D.H. Lawrence based Lady Chatterley Lover's Mellors on George Merrill specifically.

Mellors is the reason I was skeptical about Alec Scudder.

I am not a fan of Lady Chatterley's Lover which I consider entirely too full of itself--as is Mellors. I've never seen any of the series/movies (merely read, ya know, the book), despite rather adoring Sean Bean. Mellors is the quintessential reverse-snob, strolling about the countryside pontificating (or gruffly allowing others to pontificate) about getting back to nature, the power of connecting to the earth, the meaning of being one with the countryside blah blah blah.

Sean Bean as Mellors

Let's face it: E.M. Forster, for whose writing I do not greatly care, is yet a better writer than Lawrence. Maurice, which is not considered his best work, is far more subtle and droll than anything that Lawrence could have ever hope for. (This is not, by the way, the "correct" academic attitude to have--one is currently supposed to consider Lawrence the superior writer.)

In Room with a View, the scene where

naked Freddy and his mother start

arguing is one of the funniest.

The appeal of film Alec Scudder is partly the original writing but mostly Graves, who endows this bold young man with unrepentant insouciance and a kind of youthful desperation. He brings to Alec the same out-of-bounds energy and self-deprecating cheek that he used as Freddy in A Room With a View. Graves felt like he "failed" the role of Freddy. He didn't--he is one of the most refreshing parts of the movie. However, due to weightier material--A Room With a View is an elegantly lightweight film--and to experience, he excels in Maurice.

He excels by not being a Mellors-type. Rather than being the "instructive" master of the universe who "learns" his lover in the ways of physical lovemaking, Graves' Alec Scudder is as invested in the relationship as his lover--and massively more confused. James Wilby--who was much better cast as Maurice than Julian Sands, the first contender for the role (see James Fox)--manages to convey early on in the London meeting that he recognizes Alec's belligerence for what it truly is: not blackmail but the outrage of a young man at loose ends.

And he recognizes it because he endured the same emotional upheaval. His age and class give him cache, not instant superiority.

"Don't tell me your name--I want to remember--"

When Maurice and Alec run into Maurice's old tutor, Dulcie, at the British Museum, Graves gives Scudder the perfect reaction. He seems to withdraw in on himself, quickly closing the distance between him and Maurice but slightly behind him. He isn't sure if this is an enemy, someone who will lecture him about his "place." He also isn't entirely able to read Maurice's careful reaction to the same man. With the effortless grace of a gentleman of that era, Maurice smooths the meeting over, introducing himself as "Scudder" to the friendly Dulcie. The entire scene is pitch-perfect.

Forster seems to have liked people more than Lawrence (Furbank's seminal biography on Forster backs this up: Forster perceived friendships as the purpose of life and worked hard at maintaining them). Despite being the usual Forster victims of society's class system, all the characters in Maurice are totally ordinary and mostly nice, even the lecturing ones. I cannot imagine anyone in a Lawrence work saying, "Did you ever dream you had a friend, someone to last your whole life?"

And, quite honestly, there are no dead babies. So I consider this one of the more successful Forster-films.