345: After Hours
Mrs Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. And so she did. What I find amazing is that Virginia Woolf is played by Nicole Kidman, but Kidman looks completely unrecognisable in The Hours. I fell in love with her portrayal of Virginia Woolf. The cold, piercing, fierce gaze into the nothingness, a cigarette in her left hand, the wandering mind that cannot be communicated through the screen. In a period of lucidity, she would create a wonderful novel that which I can only read and aspire to write but never truly grasp. These three women whose lives are so disconnected but somehow at the end, are interconnected in all these little ways.
The whirlwind of romance, passion, familial love. Post-war context. Intertextual references. Richard talked about the birds which may have sung in Greek. The contemporary relationships of these characters. All in a single day. In a way, Richard was Septimus and Peter Walsh combined. I find this appropriation wholly amazing.
Turgid passion, raw and all-consuming. If you hear the soundtrack, you will understand. The music touches your soul. No, it doesn’t just touch it; it is grabbed and treated with a kind of emotion that only the soul can feel. Crescendos, diminuendos, all in parallel with which that can only be described by natural human emotion. Anger, sadness, wistfulness. These are just some I list.
We are studying this film at school. I love it.