One of the great tragedies; or, how quickly a rose withers in the shade. How vulnerable and and precious was her outstretched self—allowing her heart to escape its rib cage, naked and beyond her chest, with only a strand of tether. And when the music stopped—that link was severed. Disembodied, she sits and stews and curdles into a woman who has raised the drawbridge and shut the gates. No possibilities—no passing fancies will ever again find 'the heiress' a willing host. And can anyone blame her? None of this was through any fault of her own. No, she really hadn't any choice in the matter. It was all doomed to pass.
perhaps the greatest female performance I have ever seen, a gorgeous picture in costume and shadows, fascinating to see a 1940s rendering of the 1840s. Not a single misstep in character or narrative.
One of the great tragedies; or, how quickly a rose withers in the shade. How vulnerable and and precious was her outstretched self—allowing her heart to escape its rib cage, naked and beyond her chest, with only a strand of tether. And when the music stopped—that link was severed. Disembodied, she sits and stews and curdles into a woman who has raised the drawbridge and shut the gates. No possibilities—no passing fancies will ever again find 'the heiress' a willing host. And can anyone blame her? None of this was through any fault of her own. No, she really hadn't any choice in the matter. It was all doomed to pass.
perhaps the greatest female performance I have ever seen, a gorgeous picture in costume and shadows, fascinating to see a 1940s rendering of the 1840s. Not a single misstep in character or narrative.
