Inspired by ... whatever is in the title that follows.
A friend implied that my passions were easily ignited and as quickly extinguished.
In my defence, when I really like something, I really really like it.
If a song is mentioned, there should be a video clip at the end.
Thursday, 20 October 2016
Vikings on History: Ragnar/Travis Fimmel and Athelstan/George Blagden
Their interchange is the affectionate push and pull of an
excitable, irrepressible, slightly rough puppy (Travis) with his favourite,
long-suffering chew-toy (George), who is alternately hugged, kissed, and hit,
gripped, pinched, abused but all with a proprietary kind of devotion. He just
can't let him alone. And George submits good-naturedly, patiently to this harsh
handling, barely complaining except for an occasional ‘Ow!’ when his nipples
are tweaked, and even then he's so well-mannered, he apologises to the
interviewer, smiling throughout. It seems to me that this playful and immediate
intimacy is perhaps unwarranted, unasked for but not unwelcome – like, when a
child you barely know unexpectedly takes your hand as you’re walking, almost a
benediction, an acceptance, a symbol of trust you don’t yet deserve but will
work hard to justify. Here, just to be the focus of the puppy’s attention, when
little else will hold it, and certainly not the seriousness of
your fellow interviewees, that he feels this irresistible urge to touch you,
jostle you, acknowledge you, makes you feel chosen, special.
A hand on his shoulder
Curiously, it's almost an echo of the relationship between Ragnar and
Athelstan. From different worlds but with an affinity that belies it, a natural
understanding, a mutual indulgence. I won't say savagery versus civilisation,
primitive versus cultured but perhaps physical versus not so much spiritual as
simply rather less physical. The wild, laidback, expansive Aussie and the quietly spoken,
self-contained Englishman. Google images of Ragnar and Athelstan and you will find it's usually Ragnar laying hands on Athelstan, whether it's a hand on his shoulder or gripping his knee. Watch this superb YT tribute, brilliantly videochoreographed to Hozier's 'Take Me to Church', which captures the essence of this special relationship.
Athelstan asserts his independence
Travis/Ragnar is extremely tactile – he tends to communicate more through touch or expression than by speech, talks with his hands, his eyes, his body. A nod, a smile, a sideways glance. George/Athelstan's British reserve is eroded by the extreme physicality of Travis/Ragnar. In a way, touch is more honest than anything that can be said. It's a shorthand for how the character feels. Travis himself has an innate understanding of this: 'Those silent moments can have
such meaning. Too much dialogue can leave the viewer with
nothing.' It takes something momentous, the fear of losing him, before Ragnar tells Athelstan 'You cannot leave' then 'You cannot leave me' and eventually 'I love you.' Travis has said that it's his favourite relationship on the show and it's easy to see why. It's a beautiful friendship with a frisson of homoeroticism (helped by the palpable chemistry between them), played up in the many excellent YT tributes and by Travis himself. Twice here, when Athelstan's role is discussed, Travis naughtily murmurs
'Sex slave'. Even when affirming that free lunches are still his favourite thing on set, he adds 'And you, monk'.
Lagertha
Then, in other interviews, Travis mischievously maintains the mystique. Asked,
of Lagertha and Auslag: 'Who's a better kisser?', he replies: 'Athelstan.' Of the occasion when Ragnar and Lagertha importuned Athelstan
to come to bed with them, the 'Come and join us, monk?' line, he jokes, 'The offer's
still on the table.' Asked (of Athelstan), 'How much is he worth?', he
answers: 'I don't know. I haven't slept with him yet.' Of the threesome suggestion, he says 'You don't know if we were messing with him. ... I was serious ... test your relationships out a bit and see what you can get'.
Interestingly elsewhere, it's Travis who
seems to shy away from physical contact with other cast members, just as George
here once shifts slightly away from Travis, as if asserting his own position,
albeit briefly. Perhaps he should be wary of this easy familiarity but it's
given so frankly and with such charm, it would be churlish not to submit. George is comfortable enough in his own
skin to accept these rough overtures in the spirit in which they're
offered, as a gift of trust.
'I ache from your loss'
There's a certain casual intensity in Travis's performance that I'm not sure I've seen anywhere else. It's instinctual, natural. A force of nature. There's an essential truth to his portrayal of Ragnar, as if he were born to play this role. The series' creator, Michael Hirst, in audio commentary on the first episode, has said how the camera loves him. Indeed, it's hard to take your eyes off him, even when here he, a little endearingly, seems to zone out at times
when the others are speaking, fidgets, plays with his nails and waits for
a chance to act rather than talk, another opportunity to assault George. He acts as if George were actually his possession. He's prompted to tell a hilarious story about a lady
giving him a dollar as he sat outside a bank, waiting for a friend. She thought he was homeless
and panhandling. He's not embarrassed. He kept the dollar but says, 'Don't tell
my manager and that, I'll end up with 25 cents'.
This very playfulness, the roughhousing, the affection, on and off screen, and the tendency to value action over words, makes everything he does say seem more significant so that when you hear the lines 'There is nothing that can console me now' and 'I ache from your loss', you really believe them.
Amazing!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
ReplyDelete