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Happy Birthday Rupert Friend!
<Peter Quinn: the guy that kills bad guys>
<Prince Albert>
<Mr Wickham>
<Kevin Lewis ‘The Kid>
~One of the best actors of all time~
Peter Quinn #rupertfriend #PeterQuinn #Homeland https://www.instagram.com/p/B5epD1pgT5c/?igshid=1aqkureemkft7
Letter to Mr. Gansa
Dear Mr. Gansa, I didn't want to write: my avoidance was vicious and unrelenting so I held onto it in desolation. I didn't want to tap into the incandescent fury and void of pain which always sits beneath the surface of the emotional kaleidoscope that is my life. Broken, shattered at the edges, spilling out in triggers to a skewed perception of where I am and who that person is. I had to quell the screaming taint of a disenchanted terror at the destruction and hollow, pointless discarding of a most beloved character by Homeland. I realized after I began I had been writing this letter in pieces with each tweet and observation on Quinn, on Homeland: how it had failed him, us, diminished an opportunity to recognize an unending ability in Rupert Friend or influence a societal preconception and view. I found Homeland in Season 1, searching for a gritty escape in entertainment that would provoke me intellectually and emotionally. Homeland was such a show, a view into the world of intelligence: a modern representation of an agency in action. I became an avid fan. I grew to anticipate impatiently every week when Carrie would appear and hurtle into her flawed, strong, onslaught into the world of the CIA. It became an integral part of my life and escape from the difficulties that hamper my days. I was intrigued when Quinn came into full view, his humble beginnings almost an aside to Carrie's bursting, frantic, headlong rush into a veiled intricate terrorist landscape. I didn't invest in Carrie, I admired her, was fascinated and mesmerized by the many layered facets to her character but I found her profoundly difficult to like. There was something missing, a part that was necessary to embrace her emotionally and I could only appreciate her in a reflective view. Quinn however sparked an intrigue, a difference, established himself as the centre of Homeland intrinsically with such composure and control. His emerging self reflection, morality and code showing his humanity which was rich and rewarding, in stark relief to those surrounding him, making their contribution seem devoid of any colour. Quinn became an essential investment and part of me so effortlessly where I felt every disappointment, every frustration, every conflict at his position. He reached out, emanating a security and substance that was reassuring and cohesive. I looked to him to lead the show, to hold the others together with quiet authority. I lived him as I have no other. It became a realization that Quinn would be the one to take me on his journey in Homeland, it would be his that I would stay with the show for. During Season 5 I didn't think it was possible to share so much torment or searing agony with Quinn, subtly nuanced in many ways, impactative to us all. Outrage overtook the pain at his unexpected demise. Rupert stunningly soliloquized a summation of Quinn's worth laid bare in a love letter to Carrie, writing in exception from his internal scope of an actor understated in his representation of a Quinn shackled to a world of personal conflict, torment and regret. I was overjoyed Quinn returned in season 6 and he was a revelation. Rupert's gift of a soldier in such beautiful humanity, such depth and such compassion connected on so many visceral levels, it left me breathless, projecting an emotional warmth which was all consuming: his internal reach in his ability was astounding leaving me choking in an unexpected resonance. Having suffered similarly to the character due to different experiences, it was almost frightening to see him take a collective anguish and furious shame and hold it up to the light of social acceptance and scrutiny, to display this brokenness in an unapologetic exceptional manner, confront a discomfort and avoidance so prevalent for those who suffer, through a character so many had come to love wholeheartedly, hold close to them in almost abhorrent comfort at his continued torture and destruction. I found myself shouting at the screen, moved beyond tears where he invoked a myriad of shared emotions and experiences. It was disorientating, affirming, an exquisite recognition of a splintered soul. As Quinn continued to be targeted, broken down, and suffer without necessity or aim and glimpses of his torturous past arose with unrepentant venom, Homeland left me gasping, struggling to find a sensibility in it or any proper address to the abuse. These revelations and ongoing torment alienated me from the rest of the show, bar Quinn, where the almost gleeful shades of competitive harm to him became derisive, farcical, undermining those abuses into frivolity. During the season Quinn's range grew and I didn't know where he ended and I began. I have PTSD and head trauma and it destroyed me, devoured who I was, spewing out an unrecognizable enemy I couldn't befriend. Belief in kindness or those qualities that shine a light in the world as individuals or as a collective as intrinsically good was gone replaced by suffering, crippling fear and threats everywhere. Any state of grace or semblance of peace was elusive. I was considerably more invisible than any VET, because my damage wasn't borne of a higher purpose, there was no sense to my fracture, no overriding objective to my pain and altered awareness. Quinn inspired my damage to hope, lifted me to where worth had a place, voiced my horror in eloquence, provoked overwhelming love in a character entrenched in mine and the audience's reality, lives & beings. Quinn's thoughtless end was a martyr rhetoric, almost as if you didn't know how to discard him, an afterthought. How Quinn died was glorified in a cheap and hollow accolade of the shows desperation to sell their idea of relevance: to sell the agony of grief to the highest bidder. Rupert Friend gave all of himself to create something of merit, worthwhile, entrancing: a gift to the audience and fans in tribute to those he portrayed in his generosity of talent. His senseless destruction defiled that, insulting everyone who had a connection to Quinn or who saw him and found inflections of themselves within a platform and character they loved. The audience's invested humanity to Quinn was ridiculed because how he died was immortalized as a tribute, with no recognition or celebration for how he lived. He was dismissed, forgotten, consigned to rubbish: his sum worth the self involved lamenting of Carrie Mathison. Quinn was a representation of profound and copious parts of the human condition: so many of those forgotten, overlooked and damaged: his treatment and demise dishonoured that demographic irrevocably. He did not die a hero, he died a victim of an agency and show who slaughtered him for political strategy, for an in house fight for supremacy, for their own individual agenda's and ego's. Not in war, not for a populace's safety and fundamental freedoms: a tortured statistic who had outlived his usefulness, a number, a completed sentence on a page. Unforgivable. Intolerable. Sacrilegious. Homeland had an opportunity 'to effect real change' without any intention to utilize it despite their reach and ability to make political comment or offer significant influence. A platform to transform the narrative, perspective and conversations. Quinn's treatment was repugnant. He died in emptiness, in darkness, in torment by his own comrades, murdered without any chance at redemption, hope or having any belief he was valued or loved. He was disposed of in contempt, a social commentary Homeland appear almost proud of. This short sighted indifference has contributed to the wreckage a demographic, already devastated by the reality of their existence, experiences. The show felt they had permission to treat Quinn with a disrespectful inevitability, a mocking testament to how Quinn's representation was held in so little regard. Rupert Friend evoked a connection and love for a character that grew with each season until he became inexorably entwined, grew within my emotional self and inspired an acceptance, an abundance, which I will never let go of. His ability to provoke such a yearning empathy and identified humanity is a testament to his emotional range and brilliance. I will be forever grateful I joined him on his journey of revealing Quinn for who he became, which has become an esoteric part of me, because everything I cherished about Quinn ,Homeland took and smeared with empty indifference, ignorance, sullied it with disillusionment and scorn. Whilst you, colleagues and some media have derided, demeaned and belittled fans for their reaction to Quinn's demise and appalled rejection of your vacuous ever shifting explanations and too late platitudes, the fans recognize Quinn was far more than a character, had considerable impact above the show's story lines, was larger and more important by his delivery than the dismissive responses you gave and therefore care enough to protest that disservice to him, to those already fallen in war and left to fall once home, to the far reaching consequences of your inconsiderate squandering of Quinn. Goodbye Homeland. I have your trash bag waiting. - @badfluff on Twitter
Rupert Friend at #SHOEmmyFYC. (x)
Black Duty ~ Chapter 1
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33637171/chapters/83634106#workskin
Chapter 1: The Debrief
(December 29, 1999)
Peter Quinn walked into a room he'd been in many times before. His boss and director of the CIA, George Nette had summoned him - along with a small handful of other agents - to an urgent meeting.