Latest news with #ColinFirth
Yahoo
16 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
No, You Never Saw Colin Firth's Darcy Leave The Pond – And 7 Other Mandela Effect Misremembrances
I like to consider myself a pretty enthusiastic Pride and Prejudice fan (I'm re-re-re-reading my Austen collection at the moment to celebrate 250 years since her birth). And among fans of the book, it is a truth (almost) universally acknowledged that the 1995 BBC adaptation is the best. Sorry, Kiera Knightley. But a recent YouGov poll has shaken me to my core. Researching common Mandela effects – a name given to what seem to be collective memories or inaccurate happenings, like a common misconception that Nelson Mandela died in prison in the '80s – I found Colin Firth's Darcy implicated. His character, famous for THAT pond scene, never actually emerges, sodden-shirted, from the pool on-screen, the researchers wrote. This is despite almost half of us (49%) vividly remembering the moment. 'Mr Darcy is seen walking on his estate, having swum in his lake, but you never see him emerging,' they shared (a peek at the clip confirms the sad fact). Here are some of the other mind-melting false memories common among Brits: Though 59% of people polled said they were sure Mr Monopoly wore the accessory, he does not. I am among the 52% who could have sworn the cartoon character's throat boasted a prominent Adam's apple. In reality, it's straight up and down. Instead, the iconic Star Wars line goes: 'No, I am your father.' 48% of us got it wrong. 38% of people asked were convinced that the crisp packet used to be blue, but then changed to green. Still, more of us (39%) had the right answer: it was always green, though Lays salt and vinegar (the American branch) is blue. 16% of us thought the brand name once had a hyphen, which is untrue. 29% of Brits polled were sure they remembered rude names for the cartoon character's animated buddies; names like Seaman Staines or Roger the Cabin Boy. No such names existed in the Pugaverse; the show's director has even successfully sued over the claims. Only 3% fell for the original Mandela effect story, with 76% correctly remembering that he died in 2013 after serving as President of South Africa (21% were unsure). That's compared to 13% of Americans who believed the '80s death myth. Sure, that might make you feel smug for a second – but remembering the stark reality of Colin Firth's Pride And Prejudice scene (for which, by the way, the actor used a body double) wiped the smile off my face, at least. Who Cares About Pride And Prejudice's New Darcy? Austen Knew He Was Never The Real Romantic Lead Here's Why Pride And Prejudice's 2005 UK Ending Was So Different To The US' Jane Austen Fans Share Her 9 Best TV And Movie Adaptations Of All Time
The Guardian
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘No one is immune to grief': the team turning A Single Man into a sexy, grimy, heartbreaking ballet
'I can't believe that somehow I was able to make it all the way to the age of 55 without having read that book!' says American singer-songwriter John Grant. 'It's a transformative book. I was just completely blown away by it; I've been trying to get everybody that I've ever met to read it.' The book Grant is telling me about, enthusing from his sofa at home in Reykjavík, is Christopher Isherwood's A Single Man, published in 1964, turned into 2009's most stylish film by first-time director Tom Ford, starring Colin Firth, and now about to be a ballet, premiering at this year's Manchester international festival. Grant, the former Czars frontman and now an acclaimed solo artist (with albums including Pale Green Ghosts and his latest, The Art of the Lie), is writing the new show's songs. A Single Man is the story of middle-aged academic George, an Englishman in LA, quietly living through devastating grief following the death of his partner, Jim, in a car accident. Reporting George's thoughts in granular detail, the book charts, as Grant puts it, 'the millions of tiny moments that make up human life'. The idea of turning the book into a ballet came from choreographer Jonathan Watkins (Kes, 1984, Reasons to Stay Alive), who had been musing on the concept since before the pandemic. 'Jonathan was pursuing me about this for several years, and I was a little confused about why anybody would want me to do it,' says Grant, though he says he's always liked dance. Once Grant had read the book, it resonated so strongly there was no doubt. 'It was like this man had been inside my head walking around. I mean, I knew I was self-absorbed,' he laughs, 'but I didn't realise there were people out there that understood me so deeply.' The book's portrayal of grief, especially, connected deeply with Grant, whose mother died of lung cancer when he was in his 20s. 'My work is saturated by that. But sometimes I wonder if I've ever actually been able to grieve yet,' he says. 'Grief is nothing if not an extremely skittish beast, right? The individual experience of dealing with grief is a very strange thing to go through. And it's so masterfully depicted [in the book] within the context of going about your day.' When I speak to Watkins some days later, he too talks about the theme of grief, focusing on those experiencing it. 'It's also that there's this great love between two men at a time when people didn't really believe that two men could love each other that much, and therefore couldn't feel grief in the same way,' he says. For Watkins, who founded the company Ballet Queer in 2023, the importance of A Single Man as a queer story was key to wanting to make this work. I ask why he was so keen to work with Grant, who is himself gay. 'I always saw it with John Grant, I really loved his work and I could hear that the themes of his existing songs already had an overlap with the book. There's a line in the song Glacier,' says Watkins. 'It goes: 'This pain is a glacier moving through you / And carving out deep valleys and creating spectacular landscapes …' And for me, that was like the epilogue of our show!' Watkins says. 'We use our experiences in life in order to forge forward. It was that lyric.' In a north London dance studio that's not quite big enough for all the bodies inside it, Watkins leads a rehearsal with dry humour and gentle authority. The dancers are trying to work out a musical cue. 'We're listening through, trying to find the 'plink plonks',' he tells them and they tilt their heads in concentration, waiting for the melody. Heading an accomplished cast of fascinating movers is ex-Royal Ballet principal Edward Watson, who plays George. Watkins (who also danced with the Royal Ballet) had talked to him about the idea for A Single Man over the years, and when it finally crystallised into a project, 'I realised that I wanted to do it – or I didn't want anyone else to do it!' says Watson, a dancer of extraordinary physicality, known for bringing subtle angst and complexity to his roles. Next to him in the room is a contemporary dancer who excels in beautifully haunted characters, Jonathan Goddard, playing Jim, but also alternating in the lead for some performances. While the dancers embody George's physical life, Grant will be singing live on stage, expressing what's going on inside George's head. Watson loves dancing alongside singers on stage: he's previously worked with Martha Wainwright, soprano Danielle de Niese and cabaret singer Meow Meow. 'There's something really special about being on stage with a singer. You can feel where the sound comes from; you're not just listening to it, you share the space with where that emotion starts.' Once the dancers find their cue, they launch into a scene. Watkins's choreography uses a lot of stark shapes and angular poses – you could map it on graph paper ('It's like George is on autopilot, mechanically going through the motions,' Watkins says) – but then the movement might shift into something heavy, slinky, sexy, a little bit grimy. Characters have different signatures: for George's friend Charley (played by Julianne Moore in the film, here by the Royal Ballet's Kristen McNally) the movement is based in ecstatic dance. Elsewhere the dancers crowd into stylised formations, looking like a 21st-century Bob Fosse, while the prowling jazzy feel of the music evokes the 1960s. Alongside Grant's songs, the score has been created by composer Jasmin Kent Rodgman. She wanted the sound to be rooted in the 60s, acknowledging that it was a time of great musical experimentation, whether the pioneering Buchla synthesiser that she's sampled for the score, or American minimalism or jazz. In the performance, each instrumentalist will be hooked up to an FX pedal so sounds can suddenly morph, she tells me, from 'really lush romantic string trio … to open ambient, electronic anxiety, which might be slammed into this distorted trumpet line, that kicks us into a bit of high action'. Rodgman has relished working with Grant. 'I have to say John is an incredibly generous creative. And he's an incredibly accomplished musician,' she says. 'Sometimes when you meet someone from the pop and rock world there's a disconnect. But he's a classically trained pianist. You can hear that; I hear Rachmaninov, Romantic piano music coming through. He used to play the baritone saxophone; there's a lot of hidden facts about John Grant!' When Grant talks about the songwriting process, he raves about the inspiration of Isherwood's language. 'It's so masterful. It's very uncontrived, you know. You don't get the sense somebody is making a great effort to impress with their skills. It's natural, organic. And the humour! Like I'm actually inside this human being experiencing these things.' That sounds much like a description of Grant himself, the ability to cut through life's biggest emotions with the conversational and wryly observational (sample lyric from the song Sigourney Weaver, about a time of crisis in his childhood: 'I feel just like Winona Ryder in that movie about vampires / And she couldn't get that accent right / Neither could that other guy'). That ability to fuse the seismic and the mundane is apt to illustrate the dislocation of grief, when the world ends and carries on at the same time. As Watson puts it: 'You can't quite believe that all this is happening and then: oh, I still have to wash; I have to make dinner. It seems dumb to carry on with those things.' 'No one is immune to grief,' says Watkins, which is what makes this story universal, but in his version as the story progresses, the gap between the inner and outer worlds, the mind and the body, begins to close. He talks of a scene at the end of the book where Isherwood describes some rock pools as being their own self-contained worlds. 'He's saying that we're all in our own rock pools with all of our different characters and connections in our lives,' says Watkins. 'And then the tide comes in and sweeps us into this one big shared ocean; we're all part of this shared experience.' A Single Man is at Aviva Studios, Manchester, 2-6 July; Linbury theatre at the Royal Opera House, London, 8-20 September.
The Guardian
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Anne Gainsford obituary
My godmother Anne Gainsford, who has died aged 90, was a set designer and maker of costumes and hats for stage, film and television. To me, her crowning glory was making a top hat for Colin Firth as Mr Darcy in the acclaimed BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (1995). Anne was delighted that the actor wore the hat with panache, but was scathing about the anachronistic 'wet shirt' scene. Top of the toppers, Anne made 12 top hats for a production of Die Meistersinger at the Royal Danish Opera (1996), and toppers for (among others) Ralph Fiennes in Onegin (1999) and Johnny Depp in Finding Neverland (2004) – each meticulously researched to fit the historical date. She insisted on using period techniques and materials, sewing black on black even as her sight deteriorated. Anne was the daughter of William Gainsford, director of a mining business, the Sheffield Coal Co, and his wife, Helen (nee Fea), a keen needlepoint tapestry embroiderer. She was born at Somersby House in Lincolnshire, birthplace of the poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson. His Charge of the Light Brigade, and troops stationed nearby in the second world war, sparked Anne's lifelong obsession with soldiers' dress. During an exchange in Paris (1952), she staked out the Musée de l'Armée, thrilled by Napoleon's chapeaux and revolution and empire uniforms. She later became an expert in military and naval costumes, making bicornes for Master and Commander (2003). In wartime, Anne was evacuated to the Presentation Sisters convent school in Matlock, Derbyshire. She then attended St Mary's school, Ascot, and went to Oxford University in 1952 to study history at Lady Margaret Hall. It was a paper on the Italian Renaissance that led Anne to Perugia after she graduated in 1955, to learn Italian, and to opera – her next great passion. Back in London, she studied stage design at the Slade School of Art. In the late 1950s, Anne worked as a scene painter for 'theatrical polymath and handful' Disley Jones at the Lyric Hammersmith (The Demon Barber, 1959), moving to the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon and repertory theatre. She got her big break working as design assistant to the Italian director Franco Zeffirelli on productions including Romeo and Juliet at the Teatro Romano in Verona (1964) and her first film, The Taming of the Shrew (1967). Anne set up the Richmond Studio in 1967 with a fellow designer, Patty Pope. She carved out a niche making headgear for opera and ballet, including Aida (1968) at the Royal Opera House. But from 1983 on, her work was mainly for the screen, often in liaison with the costumiers Cosprop. Anne was not married but had some tempestuous relationships. Perhaps the most notable was an intense love affair in the 1980s with the writer Sybille Bedford, whom she met at PEN International. Although she never retired, when work dried up Anne learned to restore furniture, devoted herself to her very English garden in Richmond upon Thames, and enjoyed visiting historical houses with a string of eager acolytes. Anne's brother, John, died in 2005. She is survived by two nephews, Maximilian and Guy.
Scoop
09-06-2025
- General
- Scoop
Remembering New Zealand's Missing Tragedy
Every country has its tragedies. A few are highly remembered. Most are semi-remembered. Others are almost entirely forgotten. Sometimes the loss of memory is due to these tragedies being to a degree international, seemingly making it somebody else's 'duty' to remember them. This could have been the case with the Air New Zealand flight which crashed on Mt Erebus. It was only not like that because it was an 'international' flight where the origin and destination airports were the same; and where the location of the crash was in the 'New Zealand zone' of a foreign landmass (Antarctica). So, we remember 'Erebus'. We remember 'Tangiwai' too; Christmas Eve, 1953. And of course Napier (1931) and Christchurch (2011). And the Wahine (1968). And Pike River (2010). The forgotten tragedy was actually a twin-tragedy; two smaller (but not small) tragedies may more easily fall below the memory radar than one bigger tragedy. The dates were 22 July 1973 and January 1974. The death toll was about 200; possibly half of that number were New Zealanders, many of them being young New Zealanders my age or a little bit older. On Saturday I watched (on Sky Open) the first part of a documentary about the Lockerbie crash of PanAm Flight 103, on 21 December 1988. This is particularly remembered globally because, as well-as being a first-order human-interest tragedy, it involved geopolitical skullduggery. Going into the documentary – and I have yet to see the recent drama 'Lockerbie' starring Colin Firth – my understanding of the above-Lockerbie bombing of a Pan American Boeing 747 is that it was a revenge attack, following the shooting down months earlier of an Iranian airliner (Iran Air Flight 655, an Airbus A300 flying from Tehran to Dubai with 290 people on board). I left New Zealand for my 'OE' by ship – the Northern Star – in April 1974, just before my 21st birthday. I returned via Africa, flying via numerous stops, in 1978; many of my school-peers were just about to leave New Zealand when I returned. I started planning about how I would travel in mid-1973. In the very early 1970s, it became more common to fly to the United Kingdom than to sail. Pricewise, 1973 was about when the fare was the same by both transport modes. Since Air New Zealand had had its Douglas DC8 aircraft, the most popular flying route was across the Pacific Ocean. It was then usual to do two stopovers – Nadi and Honolulu – on the way to Los Angeles. The main competitor airline on that route was Pan American. It mainly flew via Pago Pago and Honolulu, using Boeing 707 aircraft. But it had also just started flying to Los Angeles with just a single stop, Papeete in Tahiti. One On 23 July 1973, Pan Am Flight 816 took-off for Papeete. This was also the month in which the New Zealand Navy's HMNZS Otago – with cabinet Minister Fraser Colman on board – sailed into the Mururoa French nuclear testing zone; a New Zealand government protest against French nuclear testing in the South Pacific. (Ref. RNZ 7 July 2023, 50th anniversary of nuclear test protests.) After refuelling, and presumably taking on some passengers, Pan Am 816 took off that evening (22 July, due to the date line), and crashed into the sea. It may have been overweight; although it was not full of passengers. There was one survivor, a Canadian passenger. 78 people died. No cause has ever been determined. The 'black boxes' sunk in 700m of water and could not – or would not – be recovered. There was one famous New Zealander on board Flight 816. Geoff Perry (b.1950) was already a world-class motorcycle racer, who competed at 1972 Daytona 200 in Florida. He was a "superstar in the making". In 1971, Roger Donaldson made a short film Geoff Perry, narrated by Ian Mune. It was the beginning of Donaldson's stellar career as a filmmaker. Two On 31 January 1974, Pan Am Flight 806 left Auckland for Pago Pago, American Samoa. It crashed on landing. Four people survived; 97 people died from their injuries. The explanation for the crash is not very satisfactory; 'human error', it would seem. Impact on me I am not sure to what extent the first of these crashes persuaded me to sail to the United Kingdom, rather than to fly. I do remember at some point someone I knew telling me they had a friend on board one of those flights. There was little analysis of these crashes at the time, and even less in later years. Aeroplane crashes were more common around the world in those days, much more likely (but still unlikely!) than in this century. And 1973 had a record high road death toll that year; more than double what we get in even a bad year these days. As a society, in those times we were somewhat blasé then about accidental death. Many people my age died in motorcycle crashes; and, yes, I motorcycled from one end of the country to the other from May 1972 to May 1973. So, even though more of my age cohort died on the roads than in the air in those years, I do believe that the 175 victims of Pan Am 816 and 806 should be better remembered than they have been. It's time to produce a docudrama – like the Tangiwai television docudrama, and the Lockerbie programmes – while there are still the memories of brothers and sisters of the young victims; young people like me heading for their lives' first great adventure. ------------- Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand. Keith Rankin Political Economist, Scoop Columnist Keith Rankin taught economics at Unitec in Mt Albert since 1999. An economic historian by training, his research has included an analysis of labour supply in the Great Depression of the 1930s, and has included estimates of New Zealand's GNP going back to the 1850s. Keith believes that many of the economic issues that beguile us cannot be understood by relying on the orthodox interpretations of our social science disciplines. Keith favours a critical approach that emphasises new perspectives rather than simply opposing those practices and policies that we don't like. Keith retired in 2020 and lives with his family in Glen Eden, Auckland.
Daily Mail
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Renee Zellweger reveals the Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy scenes that made her break down into tears
Renee Zellweger has revealed what scenes in Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy caused her to cry on set, despite the moment not calling for tears. Zellweger, 56, has recently returned to her legendary role of Bridget Jones in the latest installment of the series, which takes place four years after the death of her on-screen husband, Mark Darcy (Colin Firth). Firth, 64, makes several cameos in the film, with his character appearing before Renee as a vision. While Bridget is said to have made peace with the loss, Zellweger could not help but get emotional once she saw Firth in costume, she said at the FYC event on Saturday, according to Variety. Director Michael Morris, 51, revealed Zellweger cried filming the moments, and the actress called the realization it would be the 'end of' of their 'shared journey' together a 'gut punch.' Zellweger explained it was difficult to film as the scenes did not call for Bridget to be emotional. 'Yet seeing him there on the sidewalk in his Mark Darcy finery with his briefcase and coat, it just got to me,' she explained. 'I didn't expect to be so emotional about the end of this shared journey with my friend, recognizing, "Oh, wait, he's gonna wrap today, and that's it." And the finality of it just really was a gut punch. 'Isn't that crazy? Because when you get lucky, beyond getting to work with your friends, once you know, it sounds so silly, but it felt very profound in the moment,' she explained before letting out a laugh. 'Maybe I'm crazy because maybe I love a fictional character!' The long-awaited sequel sees Zellweger reprise her role as the titular heroine, and sees her adjusting to life as widowed single mother following the shock death of Darcy and returning to the dating scene. The actress looked absolutely radiant as she attended the Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy FYC event, held at the the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures in Los Angeles on Saturday. She posed posed up a storm in a fitted burgundy suit dress with her blonde hair styled into a chic bun and her feet slipped into classic Christian Louboutin heels. Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy was released earlier this year, and Renee has remained in-demand, recently spotted filming Only Murders In The Building in NYC. Renee's iconic singleton finally married Mark Darcy in the most recent film, 2016's Bridget Jones' Baby. The couple had shared an on-and-off romance across all three films, which are based on the Helen Fielding book series, but finally got their happy ending after it was revealed the high-flying lawyer was the father of her baby. However, in the fourth book and film, Mark tragically dies while working abroad as a human rights lawyer, leaving Bridget a widow and battling motherhood alone.
