Duets
So many strange duets of characters this week, so many good scenes. Lots of story building.
A biggie with Audrey and Lewis. What is he doing? Is he smitten or is he taking her for a ride? If so, what kind? Is he tired of the escort business, of being nice to people like that dreadful accountant lady with the twins? Or does he have a sideline in emotion-driven financial fraud?
Natasha and Nick. Is he smitten or just unable to avoid her? Girlfriends Sophie and Sian. Is Sian really smitten or is she just between boyfriends? Gary and David. Not smitten, but some powerful moments in beautifully staged scenes.
Mary: Smitten or scary?
And the couple that has to take the prize for weirdness: Mary and Norris in Brontë country. Mary is becoming more like Kathy Bates’ character in the movie Misery than she is Cathy in Wuthering Heights. But she’s funnier than both characters.
Watching her and Norris on this vacation has been frightening and entertaining in a ghoulish way. Every scene has been so wonderful it’s hard to pick. Leaving in the motor home with Mary’s choice of music, of course, being Kate Bush’s ‘Wuthering Heights’ – a wonderful eerie song made terrifying by it being Mary’s choice.
Mary’s dinner served in resplendent style in the Brontë-esque cottage: toad-in-the-olé. The two of them happily working on magazine puzzle and slogan contests. Norris, of all indoor people, going stir-crazy wanting to go out and walk in the brisk country air. And Mary wanting no part of it, only wanting him to keep working on contests so they can win vacations to other wonderful lands. “We can walk in the Florida Keys.” Mary breaking into song, Susan Boyle’s ‘I Dreamed a Dream.’
And Friday’s finale, when it gets truly scary. She hides the laces to Norris’ boots so he can’t walk. Then she, oops, accidentally breaks the wiring box for the telephone. And remember, Norris was complaining when they got there about only getting one bar on his cell phone. “There’s a land line,” Mary said. Run, Norris, run, with or without your boot laces.
