We haven’t had words of wisdom from Seymour Hicks for a while so here is another little snippet, only this one is specifically for actors and show business folk. “And now – above all things else – be DISTINCT in your every utterance. The most unforgivable sin an actor can commit is to be inaudible.” I’ve brought up this subject before I know because of the mumble mumble school of acting and the who cares if dialogue is subordinated to music and sound effects but I am reminded of it as Chris and I recently watched all four episodes of THE DEVIL’S WHORE in which, amongst a very fine cast, at least two of the actors were inaudible or difficult to understand. Unfortunately at times it is not always the actors’ fault. Again I say it, why oh why, must the music be so loud as to virtually wipe out dialogue altogether? The music in this production is fairly mixed, some of it excellent, some of it a dire mistake and at times just too damn loud, particularly at the beginning. The mistake is when at times you’re not sure it is the music you hear or pistol shots. That reminds me of the old thespian’s joke about the actor who had one line, that line being ‘Hark, I hear a pistol shot!’ On the opening night he said, ‘Hark I hear a shostel pit! I mean a shistol pot! Oh shit I’m shot!’ But back to The Devil’s Whore: beautifully shot, masses of production value, fine performances, pity to spoil it with unnecessary music and sound effects. Why modern directors feel they need it I really don’t know. As the production was made near Cape Town the entire Wiercx family were among the extras but we only recognised my sister, Ceri in one nice big profile close-up otherwise they were just part of the crowd and, with so much happening, we missed them.
Douglas went into hospital yesterday for the last week of his treatment. He was beginning to feel the effects of the radiotherapy and it was felt hospital would be for the best thing for him, especially as he now has his second dose of chemo to put up with and is likely to be feeling pretty rotten. Cancer really is no respecter of persons. I still, even after six weeks and more, find it hard to believe this has happened to him. It came as such a shock when the word was first spoken, like not hearing an actor’s dialogue I had to have it repeated, and it still doesn’t seem real.
It’s strange, I couldn’t wait to get out of it at the time but every now and again now I picture the cardiac unit in Heraklion almost with nostalgia. Isn’t that weird?