Several of you have admitted an affection for those longer strands of hair falling over Mr. A’s forehead, Whether arranged or casually tousled, it’s yet another look that suits him. So here we go–a dose of floppy fringe RA style! (photos courtesy of RANet and allthingararmitage)
*Screencap RANet, other images Wikipedia)
Can’t you just see RA dressed from head to toe in black,that lithe body moving with the stealth and grace of a great dark feline, slipping in and out of the bedchambers of the wealthy to relieve them of their precious jewels? Wooing the gems (and other articles of attire) right off some unsuspecting and enamored female?
Yes, I’ve been watching Turner Classic Movies again. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love TCM with its uncut, commercial-free films from silents to great movies of more recent vintage. I am always discovering some new gem I have never seen and happily revisiting favorites. Thank you, Ted Turner.
Tonight I re-watched Alfred Hitchcock’s To Catch a Thief. Set on the French Riveria in the mid 1950s, it offers witty dialogue, a romance complete with fireworks and plenty of pretty for the eyes: gorgeous location scenery, gorgeous attire worn by gorgeous Grace Kelly, not to mention Cary Grant looking suave–and quite gorgeous– in a tux. There is also a lavish masquerade ball sequence with attendees in 18th century attire including an anachronistic gold lame gown that must be seen to be believed.
Cary plays John Roby, a former trapeze artist turned jewel thief (“To my credit, I only stole from those who could afford it”). Roby has been paroled from prison for his service to the French resistance in WW II and grows grapes and flowers to earn his crust these days. Kelly is Frances, a spoiled, bored rich girl ( Frances’ mother: “I wish I hadn’t sent her to that finishing school. I think they did finish her off”) traveling with her delightfully down-to-earth mum.
A series of jewel thefts is taking place on the Riveria and the authorities are sure Roby, “The Cat,” is back in business. Grant has to prove his innocence while trying to avoid the police . . .
It’s a very enjoyable movie and yet again, I found myself casting Richard in the lead role–elegant, intelligent, crafty, alluring with an interesting back story. And he gets the girl and lives past the final credits. I think you can see the appeal I find in that.
My eyes are driving me bananas (itching, watering and burning) so I think I will take a break, grab my drops and wash the old hair. Speaking of needing a wash, I present screencaps and a video that celebrate Mr. A’s characters at their most disheveled, sweaty and diiirrrrrtttty.
Presenting the Tongue of Concentration or ToC . . . one of Mr. A’s most appealing mannerisms, seen both in real life and with his characters. We wonder, did young Richard stick out his tongue in such a way whilst learning his multiplication tables or how to tie his shoelaces?
Continuing on the theme of the previous post . . . and a shot of the Man Himself enjoying a sandwich behind the scenes. He has said his ideal woman is one who enjoys food and has a bit of a naughty side. Ah, well–there you go. I think watching Richard drink that whipped cream coffee above–imagine the cream he’d need to lick off his lips as he enjoyed it–and the sandwich would be a most pleasant way to spend a lunch hour. Even if you didn’t eat, you’d be nourished, if you know what I mean.
Wow, I go away for a while to try to sleep and mend (Even Worse Knee took the brunt of the last fall and is starting to kick up a fuss aided and abetted by the damp weather) and discover Monday turned out to be the day with the most hits so far! Good work, my darlings.
Now, back to Mr. A.
As I was contemplating what I would like to eat this morning, having skipped lunch and supper yesterday, visions of Richard’s characters eating popped into my head. I love watching them eat and drink. They always seem to do it with such–gusto. I like to see a man enjoy his chow.
Whether it’s Sir Guy quaffing wine or scarping down prunes (prunes. The new sexy food), Lucas sipping champagne as Banker Pete or sucking the choccie frosting off his shapely thumb, Thornton enjoying a cuppa or John Mulligan and his “fork porn” . . . watching that stubbled jaw chewing, the bob of that tempting Adams’-apple as he swallows, the pursing and smacking of those lovely lips, tongue darting out to catch a morsel . . . I only regret I never got to see Sgt. Porter eat. You know a big, strapping soldier like that would certainly enjoy his victuals. So I made sure he was fed well in my fanfic. Let’s look at Mr. A’s characters enjoying good food and drink.