dailowe
Joined Dec 2006
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dailowe's rating
Just caught up with this wonderful piece again. I too met Fenby once (briefly) ~ a lovely man (and a bit shorter than Gable, if I recall).
Am I wrong, or is the film clip Chris G is seen accompanying at the start not 1937's Way Out West? Or does that dance appear in an earlier, silent film by L&H?
And it's always intrigued me that Melbourne's Percy Granger is not given an Aussie accent. Okay, he was of English stock and spent some years there but by the time of the story he was living in the States and was a US citizen. And I know he was a fitness freak but he doesn't look 24 years older than Fenby here! In fact David Collings and Christopher Gable were both born in 1940. The best link between Collings and Granger is that both were born in Brighton ~ Brighton Sussex and Brighton, Victoria respectively.
Enough trivia. My main fascination here is that this film expresses most succinctly what I have often called "(Ken) Russell's Paradox" ~ a question he later asked about Gaudier-Brzeska, Tchaikovsky and many others. How can some great artists live such sordid or cruel ~ at least self-obsessed ~ private lives and still bequeath those moving, inspiring and downright humane works to us mere mortals? Or, as Fenby puts it here "I can't reconcile such hardness with such lovely music?"
Am I wrong, or is the film clip Chris G is seen accompanying at the start not 1937's Way Out West? Or does that dance appear in an earlier, silent film by L&H?
And it's always intrigued me that Melbourne's Percy Granger is not given an Aussie accent. Okay, he was of English stock and spent some years there but by the time of the story he was living in the States and was a US citizen. And I know he was a fitness freak but he doesn't look 24 years older than Fenby here! In fact David Collings and Christopher Gable were both born in 1940. The best link between Collings and Granger is that both were born in Brighton ~ Brighton Sussex and Brighton, Victoria respectively.
Enough trivia. My main fascination here is that this film expresses most succinctly what I have often called "(Ken) Russell's Paradox" ~ a question he later asked about Gaudier-Brzeska, Tchaikovsky and many others. How can some great artists live such sordid or cruel ~ at least self-obsessed ~ private lives and still bequeath those moving, inspiring and downright humane works to us mere mortals? Or, as Fenby puts it here "I can't reconcile such hardness with such lovely music?"