The Illusion of Depth

All things eventually die. For the past several months, I have been showcasing films devoted to Ordinary Ladies (as I have been calling them). These ladies have been characters who would (in other circumstances) have lived at the margins of the narrative; they were the girlfriends, the wives, the little old ladies, the aliens from outer space(!). Films are not usually about them , and everyone else in the narrative just assumes that they are going to be the supporting characters. But ignore an Ordinary Lady at your peril. This Thursday (the 3rd of November) we will be screening the final entry in this series.  Our final Ordinary Lady. In the wholesome world of slasher movies, there is a narrative trope that is referred to by connoisseurs as the Final Girl . Most slasher films follow a basic formula: some monstrous thing threatens a group of photogenic youngsters who have had the misfortune to get themselves trapped in whatever location they are in (a haunted summer camp; a cabin in th

This week is, of course, Halloween - probably my favourite holiday of the year (with the possible exception of National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day, but that's another story).  This Thursday I want to show an appropriate Halloween film, as has become a tradition for these weekly film nights, so I am proud to present the most terrifying Ordinary Lady you will ever encounter (and, no, I don't mean Liz Truss, so stop sniggering in the back). Admit it: you just googled National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day, didn't you? The mid-Twentieth Century was an era of paranoia. Politically, American society was whipping itself into a frenzy over an imagined Communist plot to overthrow the US Government, but a general fear of unseen threat was more widespread than the specific "Reds Under the Beds" scare. For many people (especially people of a certain age) everything about the society they used to know seemed to be in flux, and it was easy for them to imagine that they were s

 A few weeks ago, we saw Cary Grant as the (slightly reluctant) Ordinary Lady of I Was a Male War Bride ; Howard Hawks' comedy of bureaucracy and gender identity. This week's film looks at a very different kind of identity. Nella Larsen's novel Passing was originally published in 1929 and tells the story of two African American childhood friends (Clare and Irene) who re-connect as adults following a chance encounter in the city. Irene has settled down to (apparently) happy married life in Harlem with a successful doctor, while Clare is "passing" as a white woman. She is married to an openly racist white man who has no idea that his own wife is actually black. We may be currently living in an age where people are increasingly "choosing" their gender (you must have noticed that one of the unlikeliest weapons in the modern Culture War is the humble pronoun ) but the practice of choosing your race is historically much more complicated and socially treacher

 As we approach the final stretch of our series devoted to Ordinary Ladies , I think it's only fair that we pay a visit to arguably the most famous and beloved Ordinary Lady of them all: Eliza Doolittle. Eliza Doolittle is of course best known in modern society because of the Lerner and Lowe musical My Fair Lady , first performed on Broadway in 1956 and eventually filmed in 1964 (and portrayed by Julie Andrews and Audrey Hepburn, respectively). But before My Fair Lady , there was Pygmalion , George Bernard Shaw's highly successful 1913 play, and his own cinematic adaptation of it in 1938 (starring Wendy Hiller). It is that version that we'll be showing this Thursday (the 13th of October). Today, Pygmalion has a slightly unfortunate legacy as The Play That Launched a Thousand Rom-Coms (at least the ones of the "rags-to-riches" variety). Shaw's play has become the inspiration for any number of heart-warming stories about nerdy, unnoticed, awkward girls who are c