Tag Archives: hair acting

I like RA just a little shaggy and grungy around the edges . . .


Every time Richard Armitage’s hair begins to grow out a tad I have a little celebration. It’s not that he isn’t still very attractive with the cropped head, because he is. He could shave his head and tattoo it and no doubt I’d still fancy him. It’s just that for me, Richard is even more attractive when those tempting nape curls begin to sprout in back and that endearing cowlick starts to kick up a fuss on top. When there’s enough of that soft-looking hair to imagine running one’s fingers through the waves and playfully messing it up. When there’s a stray lock of hair that begs to be pushed back . . . 654c9c1752e6bab9c8df1d082a4ab725


I certainly didn’t find Francis Dolarhyde’s scar from cleft palate surgery off-putting in terms of his physical appearance, and the musculature RA honed for the character was, erm, inspiring, to say the least. But I think of how Reba said Dolarhyde’s co-workers described him as “clean.” And he was certainly that: clean-shaven, very short hair, clothing crisp and perfectly laundered, ironed and buttoned up to the last button. Not a hair nor thread out-of-place. That quality I DID find off-putting.  A little disarray can be appealing, you know?


Only later, as Francis succumbed more and more to his own special brand of “Dragon sickness,” did we see him trade his buttoned-down look for sexy black leather (reminiscent, apparently, of a look Hannibal had sported, but for long-time RA fans, it was Lucas North he was channeling) and–ooh, look!–heavy stubble.  This version of Francis scared the ever-loving sh*t out of me, but I can’t deny I thought he also looked very good doing it.  If he’d had nape curls, too—*wibble*


source: Candida Brady


Of course, it was Sir Guy of Gisborne who first introduced me to RA as an actor, and Sir Guy’s raven locks were part and parcel of his persona.  Richard had to wear “baby” hair extensions in the back until he could grow his own “medieval mullet” for the first two seasons.  And then, for RH’s final season–we were rewarded with Guy’s Glorious Mane (and one excellent set of long hair extensions. My compliments to the set hairdresser).

In the beginning, that mane was a wild, dirty tangle worn by a drunken, vengeful man half-mad with grief and self-loathing AND OHMYGOD WAS I SMITTEN.  And introduced to the great art of hair acting via Richard Armitage.



We had two Guyless episodes (during which RA was shooting some additional scenes for Spooks) but oh, how it was worth it when Glamour Guy (fresh from Prince John’s Red Door Spa, it seemed) reappeared before our eyes.  Still, Guy being Guy, he wasn’t completely tamed (even if his lustrous locks were). And we wouldn’t want him any other way.  He was like a gorgeous black stallion . . .  proud and defiant.  And the way he could toss that mane with arrogance, anger and frustration!

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I loved how Richard incorporated his long S3 locks into Guy’s character arc. And how he equally “rocked the locks” when it came to Thorin’s beautiful long tresses in The Hobbit trilogy. Hard to imagine that character without the long, wavy dark mane shot through with silver and those fetching braids . . .


Of course, like Guy, Thorin was also magnificent when he wasn’t in the midst of a fray. Behold, Glamour Dwarf!

Richard kept his real hair quite short during the period of shooting TH (not surprising with that dome he had to wear atop his head plus that voluminous wig) and it was short for “Into the Storm” and close-cropped for his role in “The Crucible” on stage in London last year.  It will also be short in “Sleepwalker” and “Pilgrimage.”

For the role of Chop in “Urban and the Shed Crew,” we get Richard with long hair as he dons extensions once more.  Chop is definitely not a character that looks as if he just stepped out of a band box and I doubt “clean” is the first adjective that would pop into people’s minds when describing him. He’s shaggy-haired, doesn’t appear to shave too often, and mostly likes to dress down in fatigue jackets, plaid shirts with rolled up sleeves and faded jeans.  And I think Chop’s rather beautiful even when he’s a bit bloodied up and in need of some first aid. 213b91d0fc677a0e3e58cf34ccb07aaf (1)



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And OK, it looks like it would be fun to get up close and personal with Chop . . . as Anna Friel’s character does here. 😉


Richard and his ChaRActers clean up nicely, no doubt about it.  But there’s something about the man of many faces when he’s more casual, shall we say–the “blue jeans and t-shirt or plaid shirt” RA–that is really appealing to me. Perhaps because I can more easily relate to that image rather than the gobsmackingly stunning man in a designer tuxedo . . . perhaps he seems more approachable, more like someone I might know in real life?  Someone I might sit down and share a snack with and shoot the breeze?



Maybe it’s the plaid shirts with the rolled-up sleeves . . . the hairy forearms . . . and the floppy hair.  And stubble.  *sigh*

Whatever, he’s got it.

(Yeah, baby, he’s got it!!)

And I like *it*with a little extra hair on top. 😉


Which Guy look trips your trigger? Series 1, 2 or 3?


Happy Guyday Friday, everyone! Yours truly is feeling a little on the rough side today, but I find Sir Guy is always good for what ails ya.  Whether he’s sporting black leather or a pirate shirt, nape curls or a glorious mane, he’s always a treat for the senses.

I think most of you know my favorite Sir Guy look was in Series 3. From the tortured, tangled-maned boozy Guy in his Floppy Black Pirate Shirt and Marvel of Engineering trousers, to resplendent Glamour Guy, fresh from Prince John’s Red Door Salon and Spa, glossy and brimming with confidence, I found the look sexy, compelling and suitable for the arc of  near-operatic grandeur provided for the ChARActer in the show’s final season.



1_165dddAs much as I loved his buttery-soft, clingy black leathers (and I do!), I also admired how his “Milanese Fantasy” costume from S3 emphasized his physical attributes– the jacket design playing up the broad shoulders, slim waist and that generous backside, the trousers showcasing the powerful thighs and teasing us with the contrasting laces . . . and all those buckles and straps looked as if they could be–fun. Challenging.


And while I have a soft spot for the “Guy Mullet” ( I have a soft spot for Richard’s hair, period), he worked those S3 hair extensions like nobody’s business. RA incorporated the extra hair into the character arc, using it in early scenes as a filthy curtain to hide his self loathing and shame, later flicking black the glossy strands with a proud, tempestuous toss of his head. A beautiful black stallion came to mind. *sigh*

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So how about you? What’s your favorite Guy look? Series 1 with the amusing mustard cravat and the fetching nape curls? Series 2 with the rocking all-leather ensemble? Or Series 3? Do tell! Happy Guyday Friday!!



Oh the glories of The Mane. Happy (Hairy) Thorin Thursday!



Yes, you ARE!


Oh, those flowing “romantic” locks.


Toss those locks, Thorin! Toss ’em!


Glamour Dwarf . . .




Looking good and ready for a fight–hair and all!







who thinks Thorin would make a great model for a shampoo commercial? *raises hand*

Guyday Friday: Great Moments in “Hair Acting”



Before there was Thorin and his magnificent mane, there was Sir Guy and those long, tousled locks in S3 of Robin Hood. Dirty and tangled, it served as a curtain a half-mad and booze-soaked Guy hid his shame, grief and self-loathing behind; later, t’was such a becoming, lustrous crown for his handsome-and-don’t-I-know-it! head. Sir Guy flicked and tossed and shook that amazing hair in a most unforgettable sort of way. Give Mr. A an A-plus for excellence in hair acting! (Well, acting all around, of course.)

How many people would love to see Richard play another role requiring S3 Guy hair?








Thorin & Company’s third straight week at #1 . . .


I saw that The Hobbit was number one at the box office for the third straight week, earning $32.9 million, bringing its totals to $222.7 million domestically and $600 million worldwide.

As I have said before, I do believe this film has “legs” and that word of mouth ultimately beats out mixed reviews. I believe it will continue to do well at the box office in the coming weeks, even when it drops from first place.  A bomb, it isn’t, in spite of what some people seem to think.

Runners-up were Django Unchained, $30.7 million, Les Miserables, $28 million, Parental Guidance, $14.8 million and Jack Reacher, $14 million.

In honor of the occasion, my two Thorin videos (I really need to make a new one–)


At any rate, it’s good news with which to bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.

Happy New Year’s Eve/New Year, everyone!!

Richard Armitage is not my guilty pleasure.

Richard meeting fans at Comic-Con. Courtesy of cambear/RA Net.

Richard meeting fans at Comic-Con. Courtesy of cambear/RA Net.

Oh, yes, he gives me pleasure on a number of levels. The truth is, I don’t feel in the least bit guilty over my adoration, admiration and entire fangurl crush over Richard Crispin Armitage.


I can relate to Richard. He also came from a middle-class background, without the perks and privileges of the well-heeled upper class. He doesn’t have a college degree from a prestigious university as do some of his acting contemporaries. Doesn’t diminish him at all in my eyes.

He may be no intellectual, but then neither am I.  I have no doubt, however, the man’s plenty smart. He’s a reader who keeps a stack of books by his bed. He also continues to blossom as a writer.

Richard puts a tremendous amount of time and effort into researching and preparing for his roles, reading background material and creating a backstory for his characters through detailed journals. He doesn’t mind going to scriptwriters and directors with his own ideas for the character and/or the production, either. And he throws himself into whatever is demanded of him, from horseback riding to weaponry skills to learning how to use a new head of hair to best advantage with a role (think of his extensions for S3 RH).

Richard practicing combat techniques with fellow dwarves for The Hobbit.

Richard practicing combat techniques with fellow dwarves for The Hobbit.

He puts his mind, heart and his soul into crafting each character, and it shows. Even when I hate what the scriptwriters are offering us–the downfall of Lucas North, for example–I cannot fault what he manages to bring to the screen. The man really can make a slk purse out of a sow’s ear.

I came to know him as an actor on the small screen–Robin Hood, Spooks and Strikeback, and all the DVDs of his other performances. But Richard also impresses on the big screen, as we have witnessed watching him blow audiences away with a magnetic, intense performance as Thorin, the charismatic, conflicted dwarf king without a throne, determined to reclaim his people’s homeland. A courageous warrior also dedicated to looking out for his two eager but inexperienced young nephews.


Richard is a detailed and consummate character actor inhabiting a handsome leading man’s face and physique. The fact his starmeter at IMBD shot from 68 up to 4 in a week is surely an indicator audiences are taking notice of his impressive performance on the big screen.

Of course, it’s not just his acting ability, considerable though it is, and his dedication to his craft, that make him so appealing to me. The fact he is blindingly handsome and devastatingly sexy doesn’t hurt one bit. Six feet, two-and-a-half (or three or–whatever) inches of long, lean, dark-haired, blue-eyed grown-up male with a dazzling smile is a welcome thing; but if all that male beauty possessed a huge ego, a self-absorbed, elitist spirit and a selfish, grasping nature, well, this blog wouldn’t exist.


Richard is described by those who know him as a man of integrity, a decent human being, sublime, self-effacing, quiet, unassuming, stoical, a true gentleman. It’s the good man I see shining through those blue eyes and those grins and smiles that cements my affection, admiration and respect for him. I do believe he’s what it says he is on the tin, as the saying goes.  In a world full of B.S., I believe Richard Armitage is the real deal.   He’s that nice, down-to-earth, hard-working boy next door who just happens to be drop-dead gorgeous and very bright and talented, too.


And when I say talented, I mean multi-talented. He dances, sings, plays several musical instruments, dabbles in painting, writes—and I am certain there are more abilities I just haven’t discovered yet. He can also build bookcases and lay flooring.  He’s my sexy, Greek god-like DIY geek.

Speaking of geekiness . . . there is a certain goofiness about the man, a gorgeous nerdiness I find irresistible. He makes me smile. Makes me laugh. Makes me feel really good.

Richard letting out a big belly laugh during rehearsals for Vicar of Dibley.

Richard letting out a big belly laugh during rehearsals for Vicar of Dibley.

He’s got a wonderful sense of humor and a deliciously naughty side under that quiet, gentlemanly exterior that I also adore.  “Love on an Elevator,” indeed, Mr. A! As if you didn’t know what sort of thoughts that comment would elicit . . .

Richard Armitage inspires me, encourages me, teaches me, thrills me, moves me; he is the kindred spirit I’ve never met. He is my muse.

No, Richard is not my guilty pleasure. I don’t feel one bit of guilt over being an ardent Armitage aficionado.

And I am always ready for another serving.

The Hair & I; or why Thorin’s mane fascinates me


Let me say first of all that I love everything about Thorin’s look. That blue coat with the big pimpin’ fur collar. The boots and those leather arm guards. The jewelry. The big shiny sword.

But what I love most of all is that hair. That awesome mane of flowing hair, complete with a becoming widow’s peak.  And those little braids that I find so fetching and imagine plaiting and unplaiting.  As Thorin ages, the silver streaks appear, making him all the more distinguished. Yes, I am fascinated by that hair.  I want to play with it, brush it, wash it, stroke it, wind it around my finger.  That hair is sexy, sensuous.

Thorin could star in a haircare commercial, methinks.

When I was younger, hair played an important part in my life, because I had so bloody much of it. As a  young child, I had to be careful when I sat down or I would actually sit on the ends of it, which did my neck no good, I assure you (Mama cut it a bit shorter after that). My hair was not only long, it was very thick. I wore it up in ponytails, in those loose Marcia Brady pigtails or in a pair of braids that were always meticulously plaited by my dear mom on those early mornings before school.

Angie sporting her pigtails.

                                                                                                      Me and my tresses, age 5 or 6.

My hair was work for her; we had no shower at the time, only a tub. And so every Saturday I would stretch out on the kitchen counter and Mama would lather, rinse and repeat and end with a cream rinse to make it soft and silky.

Sometimes she rolled my hair on those fat pink sponge rollers and I slept–or tried to sleep with those hard plastic frames digging into my skull–in them.

The next morning I had Mary Pickford curls for church, and the preacher would always give one a playful tug.

People were fascinated with my hair, I discovered. Kids on the bus used to bicker over which of them would get to brush my hair for me. And I loved having it brushed. It was a lovely experience, soothing and, although I did not know the word at the time, sensual.

During this year away from work I’ve let my hair grow. Oh, no fears it will get down to my waist again. As the saying goes around here, that would be “too much sugar for a dime.” But it is just past my shoulders now. Althought it’s thinned out a bit with age, there is still a lot of it. This summer I have had to resort to ponytails and various hair accessories to get it off my neck.

I find myself wrapping strands of the ponytail around my finger. I enjoy the feel of it against my bare skin when I undress and I let my hair loose to cascade down.  I think of Thorin’s hair. And I sigh and smile.

No doubt Richard is glad to be free of that mane. It had to be hot and uncomfortable at times and tend to get in the way during some of the action sequences.  Sometimes he had to resort to a ponytail of his own while on breaks. But boy, does Thorin’s mane ever look good. I can’t wait to see it in all its glory on the big screen.  Think of the opportunities for hair acting!

P.S. I really like that beard, too.  But I have never personally possessed one of those.

Great Moments in Hair Acting


Just when Richard was hoping to rid himself of the “medieval mullet,” what did TPTB do? They gave Sir Guy even more hair courtesy of extensions. But we all know Our Richard is not one to back down from a challenge. And so his brand new mane was incorporated into the story arc for the troubled Sir Guy in S3.  

From the wild-eyed, boozy, half-mad, near-suicidal mess of early S3, to the sleek and newly confident Sir (Glamour) Guy post his visit to PJ’s Red Door Salon and Spa, Richard worked that hair, baby. Whether as a tangled, greasy curtain to hide Guy’s shame and self-loathing, or a lustrous mane to be tossed back in a fit of anger or flicked back with great disdain like some proud, defiant stallion, I cannot imagine S3 Guy without that mane. And all that excellent hair acting by Richard.

                                                                                                             “Dangerous Talk!!”


Thwarted by Isabella

“Hi there!” *grumble grumble grumble*

And here’s a reprise of the poem I wrote a while back celebrating Sir Guy’s hair and more pretty piccies of Guy and his gorgeous mane.

Sir Guy: The Rightful Hair


A lighthearted little homage to Sir Guy’s tresses . . .


Sir Guy, dear Guy, I love your hair;

Sometimes it seems to be unfair

For the villain of the piece to be so blessed

While the hero is rather—scantily–tressed.


Oh, some may jest at your mullet medieval

with its cluster of lush raven curls;

Or at your floppy Guy locks

their derisive, dismissive howls, hurl . . .


But surely none can deny the power of the Angsty Guy Mane

Those long, unkempt jetty locks, so wild and untamed,

Never have lank and greasy been quite so—fetching,

And the glory of Glamour Guy—aah, makes our hearts sing!


Oh, yes, you work it, that amazing mane,

First as a curtain to hide your deep shame,

Then as an arrogant, proud dark stallion stamping its feet;

Is it any wonder watching you, I always feel such—heat?


And meanwhile, your nemesis, what of he?

His receding hairline, we now clearly see.

Sweaty combat reveals his balding pate,

Makes us understand why you he hates.


For you have the hair, the teeth, the physique;

“But I am the HERO!” he cries in a fit of pique–

And clutched his locks in full-blown despair,

Oops—watch out! More comb-over needed there.