"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Further thoughts on Parade’s End

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So yesterday was basic plot, pedigree, and production.  Much fannish gushing – good times.  But that doesn’t capture why Parade’s End really grabbed me.  For that, we have to dig deeper into our main characters, Christopher and Sylvia.
 
Christopher is a good man; every character says so.  He’s courteous to his servants and generous with his friends.  He genuinely loves a child that may not be his, and he stands by his wife through all her scandalous behavior.  He’s the sainted Last Good Man in England.  But he’s also stilted and priggish, and his unshakeable convictions make other people feel inferior.  He has an utterly-British stiff upper lip, and he puts convention and duty over the needs of his heart.  
 
The last point is where Christopher really gets me.  For all his stiffness, he’s incredibly soulful.  Benedict Cumberbatch is superb.  Christopher’s emotions are always just barely peeking through his mask of English propriety.  The façade drops occasionally, but there’s so much he destroys himself to keep buried.  Look no further than his love for Valentine:  here’s a man starved for kindness, badly in need of one who understands him, and here’s a young woman to give him all that.  But that Just Isn’t Done, so he denies himself, and his desire lives only in his eyes.
 
If Christopher comes across as cold, Sylvia is like fire.  Social chatter has painted her as “the whore” since before her marriage, and she chafes under the judgment she perceives in Christopher’s goodness.  She rages at him, misbehaves at parties, and acquires broken hearts wherever she goes, playing the part she’s been assigned in the court of public opinion.  
 
On paper, she should be the unlikeable side of the triangle to make you root for Christopher and Valentine, but I find her so compelling and sympathetic.  Though I’ve seen Rebecca Hall in other films, she captivates me here.  Christopher’s not the only one who hides his emotions; while Sylvia isn’t so carefully controlled, her theatricality and audaciousness disguises her true feelings by a showy sleight of hand.  She goes to extraordinary lengths to keep from seeming vulnerable.
 
The thing is, they do love each other.  It’s true Sylvia’s been unfaithful, but much of her behavior is purely for show.  It’s Christopher she dwells on, Christopher she wants to move.  And just look at Christopher’s face when he gets a letter saying she’s ready to come home.  Never mind reading it – her handwriting is enough to wreck him.  
 
Their fatal flaw is that neither can give the other what they need.  Sylvia needs passion – someone who’ll roil at her behavior and jealously confront any romantic rival.  She acts out in an attempt to kindle Christopher’s passion, but he loves her by taking her exploits in stride and not making a scene.  And of course, her fiery approach to marriage isn’t at all what Christopher needs.  He needs someone who can see beneath the mask without him having to say anything.  
 
I’m not a love-triangle person by any stretch, but the entanglements here are so rich.  Obviously, Christopher and Valentine are set up as the better match, and I love them together, but I’m also so drawn to the painful love between Christopher and Sylvia.  Throughout, I didn’t know if I wanted Christopher to settle down with his kind little friend, or if I wanted Christopher and Sylvia to find a way to truly connect and actually show the love they felt.  Just beautifully done.

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