And it’s getting wild out there . . . feral, furious, hungry, haunted, the hunter and the hunted. It must be Sir Guy . . .
I had to order my blood pressure medicine today and the site I use, drugstore.com, has switched pharmacy providers. This meant I had to go through the whole rigmarole of registering and transferring information to the new site. However, there was one moment that had me wearing an ear-to-ear grin. I was asked to pick a security question. I chose the first one: “What is the name of a favorite actor, musician or band?”
Gee, what do you think my answer was?
And I found myself wondering if I was the first person to use him as their answer. And then wondering if that just might change in a few months; musing over whether or not he’ll become lots and lots of people’s choice as “favorite actor.”
I am pretty sure Richard isn’t interested in winning any popularity contests, of course. He’s all about his craft. Richard stays focused on the work, preparing for his roles, doing his homework, making the most of each character, creating a layered, nuanced performance.
I was not in the least surprised to read in Frenzy’s interview that Black Sky producer Todd Garner thinks Richard is a good writer, nor to discover some of RA’s ideas are being worked into the film, including the trailer. RA is a smart and insightful fellow as well as a very talented one. I believe his input can only improve a project.
Once more, I feel incredibly proud of him and for him. I think of the people who have referred to Richard in the past as “wooden” and “OK eye candy.” Of the ones who dismissed him as an actor because you surely cannot be that good looking and also be genuinely talented and have brains, can you?
Well, yes, as a matter of fact, you can be. You can be a man of breathtaking masculine beauty who is also an amazingly detailed actor bringing breadth and depth to your characters. You can be these things and also be a truly nice, gracious,modest, generous, intelligent, insightful human being. A gentleman who wins the admiration and respect of fellow cast and crew members. You can be a stellar human being on the cusp of major stardom, with no one deserving more it than you. You can be an example of the nice guy NOT finishing last.
Richard Armitage is living proof.
And yes, I know I am gushing, but really–it is hard not to when it comes this darling man.
Here’s Frenzy’s interview with Todd Garner re Black Sky and RA. A must-read!! ( Edit: Todd Garner is producer of Black Sky, not executive producer. The information is incorrect at IMDB.)
There are so many “s” words that seem to apply to Sir Guy: smouldering, strutting, slinking, snarling, sniffing, sneering–even smiling on occasion–and of course, SEXY. That goes without saying.
Smirk: (verb) to smile in a particularly smug, conceited or silly way. (noun) a smug, conceited or silly smile.
I do so dearly love a good Sir Guy smirk.
It’s 9:30 p.m. here but I swear it seems as if it should be closer to 12:30 p.m. or later. It has been a long day and I am hoping to call it a night before too terribly long. And so we will kick off Guyday Friday early. I feel–the need–for Guy Candy!!
Gosh, but I do love it when the man smirks like this. Sooooo sexy.
And for some general sweetness (and not just Guy):
I don’t know if Thorin is dreaming of autumn, but I am. Truthfully, I have a love-hate relationship with the spring and fall. I love the balmy breezes and new life springing up in the former, the crispness in the air and crunch of leaves in the latter. Unfortunately my allergies aren’t as impressed. Ah well, c’est la vie!
Still, I am ready for a change of seasons . . . how about you? Are you folks down under ready to say goodbye to winter and hello to spring?
Forget Black Sky. There were storm clouds a-plenty at Ladywriter’s house. Thorin Thursday had a collision with Guyday Friday, as it were.
“Thorin, Thorin, Thorin. Is that all the fangurlz want to talk about?” Guy was grumbling beneath his breath, a long-haired pussycat tucked beneath his arm as he absently stroked her soft brown and cream fur.
“When will we get to see Thorin? Is it December yet? OMG, he’s so HOT.”
The Dark Knight tossed back his dark locks as he mimicked those annoying Thorin fans in a high-pitched, breathless tone.
Since he was his CReAtor’s er—CreAtion, Sir Guy managed the imitation of a female’s voice extremely well. It just looked rather ridiculous coming out of the mouth of a strapping fellow with an excess of stubble on his jaw.
Guy rolled his kohl-rimmed eyes and gave a distinctly disdainful (but nonetheless manly) sniff.
“Now this damned book is out. Did I ever get an—an annual? No.”
“I know, Gizzy. It’s most distressing,” said the kitty, who was, as you might have guessed, the So Not Dead Puddie.
“After all, you were here first.” She gave her own disdainful sniff with her dainty pink nose. “I know how I felt when Mother and Father started bringing in those other cats . . . why did they need anyone other than ME?”
Guy gave another stallion-like toss of his dark mane. “Exactly.” He sighed. “You and I understand one another so well, Puddiekins . . .”
“You should not forget that today is, actually, my day at the blog,” a deep, booming, authoritative voice said.
Guy stiffened. Puddie gasped. Could it be—
It was. A bearded figure, short and stocky but nonetheless regal, entered the room, clasping an extremely large and shiny sword at his side. Flicking back his long, lustrous locks—yes, even longer and more abundant than Sir Guy’s—he fixed his piercing gaze upon the knight and cat.
“Thorin Oakenshield,” he announced with a small bow to the cat. “I do not believe we have met before, my lady. You have recently joined this company?” (He had briefly met Sir Guy, Dear Reader, on an earlier visit.)
Puddie gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “Indeed—having joined the ranks of the So Not Dead.”
“Ah.” Thorin said. “I cannot yet claim membership in that particular group.”
Guy, whose eyes had been transfixed by the sight of Thorin’s very large, gleaming, lethal-looking sword, lifted his chin and looked down his handsome aquiline nose at the dwarf king.
“It is a very exclusive club. Membership is earned—the hard way.” Guy and Puddie looked at each other and gave a wistful joint sigh.
Thorin drew himself to his full height of (roughly) five feet, two inches, give or take a half-inch, and cleared his throat.
“I have no difficulty dealing with that which is hard, painful or dangerous, of taking on the most harrowing of challenges. I am of the finest dwarven stock, after all. The heir of Durin, uncrowned king under–”
Guy’s eyes quickly began to glaze over. “Yeah, yeah—I’ve heard it all, Oakenshield.” He eyed Thorin’s blade once more.
“Nice weapon,” the Dark Knight said. “Looks as if you spend a lot of time polishing it,” he added with a smirk.
Thorin’s mouth curled into what might have been deemed a smug smile.
“It looks as if your weapon is—non-existent?”
Guy’s face took on a thunderous appearance. “It just so happens I have an extremely large and shiny sword with a magnificent jeweled hilt.”
Thorin tilted his head, blinking slowly. “Oh, really? Where is it?”
Ah. The very question Guy did not wish to answer. Because, of course, Ladywriter had removed it once again just in case Guy got a bit—carried away. Which was horribly unfair. What was a self-respecting dark knight to do?
“It is out—being sharpened. And—polished.” Puddie suddenly piped up in her breathy southern accent.
Guy flashed his gleaming white teeth at Thorin as he gave the cat a small squeeze of thanks. “Yes. Exactly so.” He expelled a breath and raised a single dark brow. “We shall have to compare our weapons—later.”
Thorin gave a conciliatory nod. “Agreed. I must take leave now as it is, after all, Thorin Thursday and I do believe Ladywriter has more fanart of me to post? And I must see more of this annual . . . I bid you both farewell.”
And with a majestic air, Thorin turned on his booted heel and strode away, every inch the uncrowned king.
Puddie gave a small sigh. “He really does have the most amazing hair. I wonder how much time he requires for grooming every day?”
Guy sneered. “Pretty boy. Dwarfy pretty boy.”
Puddie glanced up at him. “But—you are the one wearing eyeliner, Gizzy. And—if I am not mistaken—a touch of eyeshadow, too?”
He sniffed. “But it just makes me look more magnificently virile and sexy.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Doesn’t it?”
Puddie smiled and butted her head against the Medieval Menace’s side.
“Of course it does, Gizzy. And now—some Blue Bell ice cream?”
Guy nodded. “Excellent idea. I could murder a bowl. It’s been, what?—two hours since I last ate . . .”
He flicked back his mane, his head held high. After all, he’d had the lustrous mane first. And the total glamour look. AND the big, shiny sword–
Somehow, Puddie suspected this wouldn’t be the last near-skirmish between her beloved Gizzy and the new Alpha male in town.
That little braid of Thorin’s really was most fetching . . .
The new movie tie-in book, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Annual 2013, is now out. And you are going to want a copy!
If you order from Amazon using the link buttons on the home page at www.richardarmitagenet.com our dear friend Ali will make sure a portion of the sale goes to charity. Amazon.com only has the books available through their marketplace, but I ordered mine today. After all, my birthday is only a few weeks away, right? Dearly hoping it arrives well before the middle of October!
The One Ring Net also has an article and artwork from the book, including an amazing portrait of actor Lee Pace as Elven King Thranduil that you can enlarge to see all the intricate details of his costume. http://www.theonering.net/torwp/2012/08/30/61298-thranduil-saruman-the-white-revealed-in-hobbit-film-tie-in-book/
Here’s a taste of the beautiful artwork to be found within the new book:
So, is it December yet??
Have Orcrist, will battle. I’d follow this dude anywhere.
OK, I know this question is going to make you blush, but–honestly, dude, could you be any more crush-worthy?
If there is some carefully designed plan in place to endear you to your fans more than ever, may I say—it’s working. The stories of your fan encounters on the set of Black Sky are uplifting and downright heartwarming.
You so easily could avoid these meetings if you wished. After all, you are working and we all know what a strong work ethic you have, concentrating your time and energies on each and every role. If you passed on the message through your assistant that it was simply not a good time, I think the fans would understand. Sure, they would be disappointed, but they would understand.
Not only do you make yourself available, you’ve even gone out of your way to seek out a fan you knew had been waiting in hopes of meeting you. You not only pose for photos, you suggest additional photo ops. You cheerfully sign autographs.
Through it all, you maintain your good humor, good manners and—my gosh—apparently you are even better-looking in person. The latter slightly astounds me, frankly. (Ooops. Made you blush again and look down at your beautiful feet with an embarrassed smile. But you are so darned cute when you do that, you know.)
I realize, of course, that it can’t go on forever like this. You being so terrifically accommodating to fans, that is (I suspect the sweet, gentlemanly nature is innate and you are aging like the finest wine, so no worries in those departments).
You say you aren’t a movie star. Well, no, perhaps not yet; but come December, when moviegoers flock to the theaters to see the first of The Hobbit films, I firmly believe they will be—dazzled. Gobsmacked. Blown away. Thorin, with all his gruffness and gravitas and charisma, with his penetrating eyes and awesome flowing locks and the voice—that voice!—will spellbind them.
They will discover the Armitage Effect, and they will want more.
Life will inevitably change for you, to some degree. My hope and prayer is that you will be able to maintain the level of privacy you desire in your personal life. Others have done it.
Frankly, you are such a nice, well-mannered, well-behaved guy, I am hoping the paps will be overcome with boredom and leave you alone to chase after the promiscuous cell phone-tossing, bar-hopping, drug-abusing, accident-waiting-to-happen celebs out there. Time will tell, but my fingers are definitely crossed.
Your fan base will inevitably grow—and that is as it should be. A man of your extraordinary talents and gifts, with your range and versatility, deserves to be seen and heard and appreciated by many, many people.
You simply will not be physically able to meet all the fans, pose for all the photos, and respond to all the requests, as much of a nice guy and people pleaser as you are.
And that’s OK. Really, it is.
There will be a few fans who will, of course, think themselves entitled to your attention and time no matter what. They tend to be unreasonable and impossible to please. I suspect every fandom has them, and as a fandom grows, more may appear.
The truth is, you don’t owe us anything. There is nothing in the rule book that says you have to go out of your way to meet fans, send messages, sign autographs, pose for photos, be consistently polite and gracious and accommodating.
It’s certainly a smart move in terms of raising your profile as that up-and-coming British actor who is a real gentleman and so good to his fans. And nobody could describe you as less than intelligent. I also think you have some good PR people in place now.
I just want you to know I will continue to admire and respect you, as will many others, even when the time comes that you have to politely, but firmly, say, “No.”
In the meantime, thank you so much for making those efforts to meet and greet your American fans. Not only have those encounters meant the world to those ladies, we who have read of the meetings and seen the photos have all enjoyed a vicarious thrill. Their joy is also our joy.
God bless you, Richard Armitage. Thank you for simply being—you. May things continue to go well on the set of Black Sky. I hope the only encounter I have with a tornado in the year to come is seeing the movie version with you front and center. Can’t wait to see more of you on the big screen!
Your ardent admirer from LA,