But while The Gifted that doesn’t take itself too seriously, it also doesn’t hide behind the pretense of its mainstream trappings. The Gifted still objectifies women as much as any other mainstream film and discerning viewers could make the case there’s a good amount of hand-washing involved in the film’s ending.
For a film that supposedly enforces the negative self-image of women, it’s surprising to see it go out of its way to make amends for it.īut let’s not mince words. Suddenly, the film turns a mirror right on itself and calls out its own shenanigans. Without giving too much away, The Gifted ends with a mid-credits sequence that tells us the truth behind Yuzon’s book and the real story behind Aica and Zoey. But by the end of the film, it becomes clear that Martinez’ intentions are more noble than contentious. The Gifted could very well serve as a clever commentary on the growing popularity of teen targeted novelettes. While it’d be easy to mistake the comedy as another cookie-cutter love triangle, when given the chance, The Gifted goes to great lengths to subvert expectations. The Gifted isn’t a love story, not in the traditional sense.
In this case, it uses it as a creative mechanism to turn its premise on its head. It’s the customary case of fiction within fiction and The Gifted uses its framework as more than just a clever narrative gimmick. Resident school heartthrob Mark Ferrer (also played by Milby), is caught in the ensuing crossfire, and the aftermath leaves the two embattled friends dragging their rivalry well into their adult life. The Gifted is a comedy that unfolds through the book of budding author Mark Yuzon (Sam Milby) where his characters, Aica and Zoey, turn from childhood best friends to intellectual rivals. And though The Gifted starts out as any other tale of bullied ugly ducklings, there’s more to its story than a fat suit and a prosthetic nose. Box office: 020-7432 5000.It’s a friendship defined by intelligence but bound by what they see as repulsiveness. Rattigan’s play, as Cracknell’s production emphatically proves, is strong enough not to need this kind of aural reinforcement.Īt the National Theatre, London, until 21 September. I stress this because there is a growing directorial tendency to jack up a text with cinematic sound effects. Nick Fletcher as the ex-doctor also conveys a rootless solitude that matches Hester’s and Marion Bailey makes the landlady a figure of instinctive worldly wisdom.īecause the production is so good, I resented even more Peter Rice’s sound design, which, with its thundery rumbles and earth-shaking vibrations, suggested that this London rooming house was not so much occupied by Freddie Page as about to be menaced by Freddy from A Nightmare on Elm Street. Peter Sullivan makes Hester’s husband a younger, more attractive figure than usual, offering her a well-ordered life that she decisively rejects. Tom Burke as Freddie has the bewildered charm of a man out of his depth in postwar society and Hester’s world of intemperate passion. ‘Stealthily, Rattigan builds up a portrait of a society’ … Adetomiwa Edun and Tom Burke in The Deep Blue Sea. But McCrory’s best moment comes when she throatily informs a shocked neighbour that, if the departing Freddie had returned to collect his suitcase, “I would have made him stay.” I’ve seen many fine Hesters but few who have conveyed so clearly what Shakespeare called “the very wrath of love”. She greets his embrace by allowing her hand to slide towards his crotch and, when he quits the house, she stands on a chair to gaze at his departing figure. McCrory’s features blaze like a city in illumination. In the presence of Freddie, even after her aborted suicide, she becomes a different woman. Left alone, she paces her room in moody silence. Rattigan himself, however, said that his prime concern was “the illogicality of passion” and that comes across beautifully in McCrory’s performance. When you add in Hester’s high court judge husband, you have a composite picture of England. The young married couple upstairs embody middle-class orthodoxy, the struck-off doctor who comes to the suicidal Hester’s aid is a sexual outlaw, and the gossipy landlady represents working-class tolerance. Stealthily, Rattigan builds up a portrait of a society. ‘The illogicality of passion’ … Helen McCrory.