I’ve just finished watching a beautiful film, “Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont.” A wise woman would be asleep at this time, but I am neither wise nor tired, apparently,
It is no small wonder to me that Joan Plowright was Mrs. Laurence Olivier, because her acting talent is unsurpassed as far as I’m concerned. She may not be a Dame Judy or a Redgrave but she does a damn fine job and it is a commendable film. Of course Rupert Friend is no small talent either, and this film is an excellent pairing of great actors. (BTW, I think L.O. would be proud, and I think if J.P. had been a man, she may have gained even greater heights of fame than her wondrous husband).
This is a film which evokes thought; which brings to mind every special person you ever knew and causes you to cast away those who do not care. This film brings to life end-of-life, and while reminding us that we are always alone in dying, we are never alone in living, or, at least, only as much as we care to be.
I am tired, but surrounded by Wordsworth and Blake lulling me to sleep; letting a film remind me that words have, and will always be, my friends. Words will never leave me so long as I live, and when they are gone I will cease to breathe.
My words, my friends. My friends, my words. Love to all on this radiant night.