The thing that looks like Dickie is you

RP sideblog

[freddiemiiles-blog]

THE MAIDS: I AM ONLY THE MAID

This adaptation of Jean Genet's THE MAIDS was part of the American Film Theatre series. The film stars Glenda Jackson and Susannah York as two sisters named ...

Glenda Jackson. The alarm rings at the end, to signal that their game is over, and it’s time to switch costumes. 

[tclented-blog]

    Tom thought that–for the moment–he did not maintain the capability to stay maniacally polite. To nod and smile and harbor his envy. But he supposed he wasn’t envious. Certainly not. Freddie had nothing to be envious of save for his relationship with Dickie. And Dickie was not with him at this moment in time.

    Honestly, Tom found Freddie hideous. He did not care for his car or his clothes or his charming inflection–he could imitate that inflection if he so felt inclined.

    I’d rather not, thank you.

    But what was he to do? Leave the room and wait for Dickie in another corner of the house? That’d probably heighten the maladroit situation further. And he wasn’t going to seek out Marge–she was probably with him. Tom stepped back into the sun-lit room and stared at Freddie with the impersonal and shallow look of a professor with a particularly pestering student.

     “Coffee, yes,” he said, coldly civil. He didn’t trust it to be spit-free if Freddie was to prepare it. “I”ll make it. You sit. Don’t worry about a thing.”

[freddiemiiles-blog]

“Good man!” said Freddie, clapping Tom on the shoulder and welcoming him back in, as if the place were his. Always genial, always the bon vivant, and never more so than when he was offering the icy simulacrum of friendship to an outsider. 

Now Freddie vaulted over the back of a divan---truly backwards and headfirst, like a pole-vaulter. The wooden frame creaked under his great weight but he’d stuck the landing all the same, and he sprawled on the cushions with a self-satisfied grunt. 

“Tommy,” Freddie drawled. His voice’s habitual inflection was just this slow, satisfied drawl. 

Tom was in the kitchen by now, maybe out of earshot, maybe not.

“Imagine my pleasure, seeing you out of that jacket for once.”

The sun shone on the terrazzo. In the harbor, fishwives whistled and called out. 

“Corduroy,” Freddie drawled. “Such a debilitating fabric.”

[richardgreenleaf]

freddie miles examines the goods

[freddiemiiles-blog]

Proust Questionnaire, Actors Studio (Philip Seymour Hoffman 1967-2014)

in Tribute © 2000 BravoTV In The Moment Productions LTD

The sound quality makes it unwatchable, but in the first 20 seconds he explains his least favorite word. 

I listen to music so seldom, I don’t get songs stuck in my head. But Philip Seymour Hoffman saying that word has been in my head a long time. 

[scribbledfangs-deactivated20181]

250 Philip Seymour Hoffman Icons

Size: 100x100, border

From: The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

Download: here

Free to use for roleplaying purposes. Don’t repost or claim as your own.

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[freddiemiiles-blog]

OMG. You're an RP saint.

[themayabazar]

Look at me

[freddiemiiles-blog]

themayabazar:

under the read-more, Anthony Lane’s praise for Philip Seymour Hoffman, on the occasion of his untimely death. 

“You stare at the bulk and blaze of him, and you think, That’s gone?”

Anthony Lane pays an eloquent tribute to Philip Seymour Hoffman, and his favourite performance is the same as mine. So my excerpt is biased. Do read the whole piece here.

No, for preference—for Hoffman at his height—I would go for Freddie.

Freddie Miles is a friend of Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law), in “The Talented Mr. Ripley” (1999). Freddie is trouble, and, more to the point, he can sniff trouble when it emanates from other folk. Everyone who admires the film remembers his arrival—one of the great arrivals, indeed, in the history of cinema, as he jumps from an open-top Alfa Romeo in an Italian piazza, bops toward us, kisses Dickie, pours a slug of wine, and throws it down his gullet in a single draught. But try a more legato scene, on Dickie’s yacht, when Law ducks down, belowdecks, to make waves with Gwyneth Paltrow. Freddie is left in charge of the boat. Once more, Hoffman’s technical display, if you look carefully, is off the scale, with Freddie nursing his cocktail, nibbling the olive on its stick, and casually laying a soft hand on the tiller, as if any harsher effort would be an insult to his loucheness. By now, however, he is so invested in the character, and we are so lost in his thrall, that we don’t look carefully. We just bathe in the ease of it, and we snicker along with him as he jeers at Tom Ripley (Matt Damon), up in the bow, who is spying on the lovemakers down in the hold. “Tommy, how’s the peeping?” Freddie cries, with glee unconfined. He repeats the line, with less punch, and then, in a speedy patter, adds, “Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy.” I know of no more graceful diminuendo, at least in the comic realm. (King Lear says “Never” five times, before he dies.) It is the sound of a man who is entirely at home in the world, chuckling at another man who is still exploring it, and still amazed at the deliciousness of its sins.

The film was directed by Anthony Minghella, somebody else whose loss we could not at first believe and could ill afford. Minghella saw the fruitfulness of allowing characters, and the actors who embodied them, to take turns in the spotlight—to strut and fret their time upon the stage, and then make way. Who owns the movie is never quite decided, and the one thing more full-blooded than Hoffman’s swagger, in his first appearance, is the élan with which he yields to the blissful air of repertory—a travelling troupe, putting on a show. There is a modesty in that approach: an unexpected trait, in such a force of nature as Philip Seymour Hoffman, and in so immodest a trade as cinema. You stare at the bulk and blaze of him, and you think,That’s gone? Those other lives that he had yet to create and flesh out, in all their intensity—when do we get to see those? Never, never, never, never, never. Just enjoy what we had of him, I guess. As the kid said, “Look at me.” 

“You stare at the bulk and blaze of him, and you think,

That’s

gone?”

[freddiemiiles-blog]

“Isn’t he?” asked Freddie, sweeping past Tom, not without bumping him. 

Freddie wore his great girth immensely well: with ebullience and a sly pride, as if this were still the age of Howard Taft, and himself a robber baron in glorious rut. If he nudged someone, he meant to.

Their positions now reversed, Freddie just over threshold and Tom halfway out into the hall, Freddie looked back at the other man and smirked. 

This upstart, this popinjay! “Dickie isn’t here”!!! It was true that Freddie liked Dickie and disliked Tom, and that all this was no secret, but to make mention of it, or even to allude to the dryly functional, pleasureless nature of Tom and Freddie’s social intercourse---it would be insulting if it weren’t so laughable. 

“I’ll wait here for him. Unless I can persuade you to change your mind? Come back in, come in man. Let’s both have a coffee and wait for him.” 

[tclented-blog]

do you know of anyone who writes dickie greenleaf or freddie miles?

i’d kill for a dickie roleplayer. much like someone we know 8^)

as for freddie, he’s right over here. love him–mun and muse.

[freddiemiiles-blog]

hello anon. Still under construction, but yes, here's Freddie Miles.

[notluvulongtime]

Felicità  ~ Philip Seymour Hoffman as Freddie Miles, The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

[freddiemiiles-blog]

[cinenthusiast]

Philip Seymour Hoffman as Freddie Miles in The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999, Minghella)