#❮ location: wrotham ❯

[lies]

“Cora, Countess of Stratford (Cora Smith)”, John Singer Sargent, 1908.

Currently in the private collection at Wrotham Park, which was the filming location used to represent Winfield House in The Diplomat. The painting appears prominently in many scenes, making obsessive Sargent fans go, whoa! Sargent!

[knuskin]

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[l0veyourselfirst]

Wrotham Park, Hertfordshire, UK (x)

[workingonmoviemaps]

Popular Locations Wednesday

England’s Wrotham Park

Wrotham Park was designed for Admiral John Byng by architect Isaac Ware in 1754 in the neo-Palladian style.

The estate can be seen above in What a Girl Wants, King Ralph, The Crown, Jane Eyre, Kingsman: The Secret Service, Gosford Park, and Jeeves and Wooster.

It can also be seen in Hart to Hart, White Mischief, Inspector Morse, and The Line of Beauty.

[gifshistorical]

FILMING LOCATIONS OF BRIDGERTON S1&S2

· Ranger’s House (London) — Bridgerton Residence · No. 1 Royal Crescent (Bath) — Featherington Residence · Windsor Forest (Berkshire) — Anthony&Kate forest · The Palladian Bridge (Bath) — Palladian Bridge · Holburne Museum (Bath) — Lady Danbury’s Estate · St. James’s Church (London) — St. James’s Church · Syon Park’s Great Conservatory (London) — Conservatory · Castle Howard (North Yorkshire) — Clyvedon Castle · Hampton Court Palace (London) — St. James’s Place · Wrotham Park (Hertfordshire) — Aubrey Hall

[ervtreiaarchive-blog]

date & time: september 17, 2178. 10am location: wrotham closed to @pyrecoren

As time passed, the notion that she was not alone anymore was slowly coming into place -- waking up in the morning, it still took her a split second to realise where she was, how she ended up there and that she was surrounded by fourteen other people; people that gone from strangers to tentative allies, from allies to friends, a sense of family growing in a place so dark flowers shouldn’t bloom, or so they led each other and even themselves to believe. However, no matter how much Eretreia began to settle into this new life, there was still remnants of her old life that could never be erased.

As the Concord descended from the skies back to Wrotham, her heart clenched. She no longer longed for the desert, the events of their last mission still hanging fresh above her head like a guillotine; and although, as she walked past the med bay she could see it already empty, every casualty healed up and ready for the next mission, some nights she still woke up with sweat on her forehead and a trapped scream on her throat.

She stood facing the door, the grey metal heavily standing, and, with a breath, walked away. There was no one there anymore -- he wasn’t there. For that, her heart started beating faster, three frenzy beats as her mind wandered about him, her teeth biting her lip and keeping the smile from taking over. As if he could read her thoughts, her IBA flickered and showed: (1) One new message. From: Pyre Coren. Her eyelids dropped and with the touch of her finger, she read: “What are you doing today?”

She released her bottom lip from her teeth grasp and let the smile take over her features, warmth invading her. God, why was she smiling like this? Eretreia cleared her throat and closed the message, resuming her walk to the mass hall, where she hoped to meet him. Lately, that was the best place to be, the smell of food, real food taking over the ship.

It wasn’t a surprise to find out she was right. Her eyes flicked to his direction and, when he finally saw her, she nodded with a smirk. Looking around to make sure they were alone (they weren’t, unfortunately, but at least he was sitting alone and everyone else seemed to be interested in the food only) she walked over to him and sitted in his opposite side, her smirk never fading. 

Her body leaned slightly over the table, hoping to get closer to him as she lowered her voice and said “Was that an invitation, Coren? Are you asking me out?”

[fictionturnedherbrain]

I hardly post anything original on this blog but I found my first review of The Scarlet Pimpernel (BBC 1998) and my outrage amuses me so here goes! (I had ... issues ... with this adaptation, let's just say. Now I feel like I have to go back and rewatch, many many years later!) Apologies to fans of the actors involved!

Putting the whole thing under the cut because long.

Scarlet Pimpernel (1999)

Starring Richard E. Grant, Elizabeth McGovern, Martin Shaw

Style

Characters/Actors

Dialogue

Original Content

There are two main things wrong with this production of the Baroness Orczy’s novel: the actors and the phrase ‘modern interpretation’. Richard E. Grant is superficially a negative copy of Sir Percy, in every sense of the word. He’s too dark, too slight, too short, and puts forward smug and sneering where I presume he intends foppish and cunning. In style, the director may have believed that Grant can ‘act differently’ enough to portray the ‘foppish persona’ of Sir Percy and the ‘dashing persona’ of the Scarlet Pimpernel but he doesn’t convince me. His dandy routine is either bawdy or malicious, and as the mysterious hero, he’s just plain violent. Elizabeth McGovern is not an ugly actress, but her Marguerite looks frumpy, common, but above all, ordinary, and she is outshone by Beth Goddard as Suzanne de Tournay and Emilia Fox as Minette. Martin Shaw’s Chauvelin is around the right age, but the writer has tried to ‘sex up’ the role, which doesn’t work. Which leads onto the 1990’s interpretation.

What’s wrong with romance, and merely implying what follows? Why is a high body count necessary to update an historical drama? In the ‘making of’ extra, shivers ran down my spine when I heard what was planned for the adaptation of the ‘classic film of the thirties’ (no mention of the 1982 version): to make a ‘family/action series’, using characters and a story that ‘still hold good’, but making it ‘exciting’, with a ‘slightly sexy feel’. Above all, the Scarlet Pimpernel would be modernised to make it appeal to ‘today’s audience’. Though there are still kernels of Orczy’s writing in the 1999 series – drawing on Eldorado and The Elusive Pimpernel, as well as the main novel – the characters are lost beneath smutty dialogue, violence and special effects, losing the romance of the original story.

Style

What’s Good

The credits are initially very stylish, with red transparencies of objects which symbolise the story, including a pistol and a red eye mask. That is of course until clips from the film are included. Richard E. Grant’s smug face should be regarded as a warning to ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here’.

          The setting is perhaps the best out of the (now) three main Scarlet Pimpernel films (1934, 1982, and this attempt): the production was filmed in Prague, for its semblance to eighteenth century Paris (although I��m not sure all the tricolour flags, rosettes, ribbons and bunting were necessary to identify the intended setting). But surely this advance is to be expected of the latest adaptation, with considerably more money available, and more time spent filming (£5.5 million budget, and 18 weeks on location) Sir Percy’s mansion, now termed ‘Blakeney Hall’, is actually Wrotham Park, Barnet, outside London, and includes many lavish interior scenes filmed on location. The stunts and effects are more professional because experts were on hand to work with (and often replace) the actors for tricky scenes. And yet Richard E. Grant still looks uncomfortable on horseback, or even driving a carriage, as opposed to Anthony Andrews in the 1982 film. And the duel scene between Sir Percy and Chauvelin, introduced into the story in the Andrews version, is edited to pieces, and finishes as a fistfight.

What’s Not So Good

The modernisation. The deaths of Marguerite’s parents at the hands of St. Cyr replace the previous explanation of St. Cyr having had Armand beaten for falling in love with his daughter, because this makes Marguerite’s actions more palatable. This ‘eye for an eye’ philosophy is presented in the rather theatrical opening flashback scene, with a heavily powdered St. Cyr exclaiming ‘Learn from this!’ and Marguerite’s mother echoing, ‘Marquis de St Cyr, my children will remember!’ The following representation of Paris, 1793, is just as affected, with children dancing, faces lit by flame, and rebel rousing in the streets (filmed at night for heavy-handed symbolism). With the Prague scenery, it brings to mind the animated film A Nightmare Before Christmas rather than mid-Revolutionary Paris.

          Unnecessary characters. The dwarf that leads the League members to where Danby is being tortured. Mazarini, the Scottish-Italian portrait forger and his orgy. The female Republican soldier. And Minette, the distortion of Jeanne Lange from Eldorado. The name change is one thing – Jeanne became Louise in the 1982 version – but the exaggeration of Marguerite’s understudy and Armand’s lover into a double agent between the Scarlet Pimpernel and Chauvelin is quite another! Was it to introduce a bit of female sex appeal into the film, or to give Emilia Fox something to work with?

          Confusion! The plot manages to twist in and out of three Pimpernel stories, without successfully identifying the strongest drama in any of them: Marguerite’s betrayal of Percy in the main novel is lost to Minette; Armand is captured in a cross between the events of the main novel and Eldorado, and yet he completely disappears from the action until the end (as Sir Percy says, “Very good to see you again, Armand”!); and even after the Chauvelin/Marguerite confrontation of Elusive is followed by the prison reunion of Eldorado, Grant and McGovern still can’t convey the romance between the Blakeneys! Grant loves his witty fop persona too much to let go, and McGovern is uniformly tepid throughout.

Characters/ Actors

What’s Good

Very little. Chauvelin. I mention Martin Shaw’s character first because I object to him the least. Though not as wizened as Orczy’s character – perhaps Richard E. Grant is in the wrong role – Shaw is in the right age bracket (or looks to be) and is well-spoken enough to portray the diplomatic ex-Ambassador. That the screenwriter then includes a post-coital bed scene with the Minette character that is totally wrong for Chauvelin (who has morphed into a hybrid of Amadeus and the Marquis de Sade) is not his fault. In fact, screenwriter Richard Carpenter completely misunderstands Chauvelin’s motives. The dialogue tries to make the French agent (again called Paul and not Armand) sound ruthless – “Glad to see you haven’t lost your tongue along with your toenails” – but then Shaw states in the making of commentary that what attracts about the character is that he’s ‘not an obvious bad guy’ and is ‘capable of love’. Chauvelin’s love, however, is for his country and the Republic, not Marguerite. If there must exist some previous romantic entanglement between Chauvelin and Marguerite – another creation of the 1982 version – then it should at least be shown that Chauvelin only uses Marguerite to trap the Scarlet Pimpernel. He doesn’t get all human and protective of her at the last minute, trying to save her from death! The speech that Shaw gives before Robespierre at Marguerite’s trial is completely ridiculous in its uncharacteristic presentation of Orczy’s dedicated republican agent: “The Committee bases its judgements on facts. We are accustomed to anonymous denunciations, and I find many of them to be false, motivated by revenge or greed –” Not only does Chauvelin suddenly condemn the government he has been actively supporting in a fit of hypocrisy, but Robespierre lets him live after he’s said it! And Ronan Vibert is actually very good as the sober, calculating, well-dressed dictator, impressing the few scenes he features in with the importance of his character.

What’s Bad

Richard E. Grant. Not to say he’s a bad actor, he’s just very miscast in this role. To start with, he doesn’t look anything like how Orczy described her hero. Notwithstanding trivialities like hair – fair, not dark, and certainly not receding – the Scarlet Pimpernel is 6’3” tall, with broad shoulders and a well-built physique. He’s the traditional romantic hero – strong, masculine, protective, and commanding authority. The imagery just doesn’t work with Grant in the main role, who would  have made a better Chauvelin than Shaw! Once again, the actor playing Sir Andrew Ffoulkes – Anthony Green – should have been Sir Percy, and the chosen lead, as with Leslie Howard back in 1934. Physical drawbacks aside, Grant just can’t pull off the dual character role. He has two personalities to aim for, and misses the mark with both:

          The Fop. Howard and Andrews may have been slightly irritating as the drawling, inane Sir Percy, obsessed with the cut of a coat and the tying of cravats, but that is the point. That’s Sir Percy’s disguise, and his disguise is used against everyone, including Marguerite. By trying to make the story and the character more ‘modern’, Grant seems to tone down this side of Sir Percy. Some of his lines are funny – the ‘carriage wit’ comment – but he’s too dramatic, replacing the character’s affected tones with a lot of mincing and arm flailing. Sir Percy wouldn’t expend the energy. Nor would Orczy’s character be so cruel and sarcastic, as during the ballroom scene with Angèle St. Cyr (apparently the only St. Cyr family member to apparently escape execution): “Take the lady away, Sir, take the lady away!” Grant’s Sir Percy is also much too saucy, with the “kiss where we please” toast and the “wooden leg” joke, especially whilst in the company of ladies. This is still supposed to be eighteenth century aristocratic England, and Sir Percy is nothing if not courteous and polite. Grant takes it all too far, making Percy hurtful instead of playful. When Percy tries to push Marguerite into singing for everybody’s entertainment, his guests look embarrassed to be witnessing such mental cruelty, and Sir Andrew tries to excuse himself and leave (or perhaps it is the irony of Percy’s line, “We all know how truly your voice mirrors your beauty”, which makes them cringe!)

          The Scarlet Pimpernel. An earnest, dedicated, determined leader of nineteen loyal men. A calculating, unflappable, master tactician, risking his life to save others. How does Grant put this across? He scowls and gets to run people through with a sword. The Baroness’ Sir Percy occasionally had to cosh people over the head, in order to assume their identity, but he didn’t kill anybody, because then, really, that would have brought him down to their level. Here, during the Pimpernel’s escape from prison (apparently during the September massacre of 1792, despite an earlier caption claiming it’s the year later), he breaks one guard’s neck, stabs another in the back, and kills three people just to get up a flight of stairs! There’s also very little difference between Richard E. Grant’s Sir Percy and his Scarlet Pimpernel, aside from the ridiculous masks that the League now don, replacing the disguises that took Sir Percy and his men into the heart of the mob, allowing them to blend in. Fearing that rather obvious latex appendages and dressing up as an old hag would get them laughed at, Carpenter obviously decided that he would abandon the central concept of the story, and have the League just wear masks, large hats and cloaks. Or rather, abandon the central concept of Orczy’s story, and take up The Mark of Zorro instead. The ingenuity of Orczy’s character is replaced by violence, and – pathetically – early Bond-style gadgets. Sir Percy becomes a well-prepared Houdini after Chauvelin locks him up in a cell, producing a pick from his quizzing glass, skeleton keys from his collar, and a blade from his boot (wasn’t he searched?)

Elizabeth McGovern. As an American, McGovern carries an English accent quite well (apart from when she says ‘Percy’ as ‘Passy’, rolls the ‘r’ in ‘Carlton’, and declares that “over a thousand people have been ‘mardered’”). Unfortunately, her earthy pronunciation only adds to her overall image, and creates the most ungraceful, ordinary Marguerite St. Just on film to date. Merle Oberon of the 1934 film, Jane Seymour of the 1982 version, and Elizabeth McGovern have all broken away from the Marguerite of Orczy’s stories: not one is blonde (or auburn, depending on which chapter of which book is referred to), and I think only Elizabeth McGovern has blue eyes. But then, Marguerite is supposed to be a French woman, of Gallic extraction, and therefore Orczy’s ‘childlike’ angel-haired, Anglicized hero was perhaps stretching the romantic licence of the book a little too far. However, McGovern doesn’t even carry herself well as the character. Oberon was delicate with a stunning beauty; Seymour is classically beautiful and elegant. The bad wig and heavy make-up do absolutely nothing for Elizabeth McGovern, who seems to shed about ten years after her forced haircut towards the end of the film. For most of the time, she appears bloated and her face rubbery, and as neither she nor Grant are very good at showing the suppressed love that is supposed to exist between the Blakeneys, the audience is left thinking that not even physical attraction could have brought them together. As Chauvelin says, “It’s too good to be true – like the performance you’re giving now.” And instead of Marguerite’s inner fire and strength, the modern version looks as though she could just wrestle you to the ground and sit on you. Character-wise, Marguerite is as confused as the plot: the young, inexperienced wife, once an actress of the Comédie Française, becomes a tired, matronly ex-singer of the Theatre des Arts, who slept with Chauvelin even though she didn’t love him (“You were always out of reach, even when you were lying in my arms”). Marguerite’s whole status is lowered: from bourgeois Parisian to provincial farmer’s daughter; King’s Player at the Comédie to bawdy chanteuse at the Théatre; naïve maiden to cynical tramp (“And sometimes you were willing – very willing”). Trying to present Marguerite as a strong woman by modern standards only succeeds in making her common and unappealing as Percy’s wife, and the monotone delivery of McGovern, who was obviously focusing on her pronunciation, means that even her lines lack the necessary emotion. Marguerite is supposed to be an intelligent, impulsive young woman of twenty-five, who has left behind the excitement of the Paris stage for life as an English gentlewoman, hoping to find romance and an escape from the Revolution. McGovern’s Marguerite is technically still twenty-five (her parents were killed when she was twelve, in 1780) – but her first scene makes her look more like a disillusioned middle-aged wife, stumping around a ballroom and smiling pathetically at her equally life-weary husband. When Marguerite turns to demand of Chauvelin, “What do you mean?” (after he cryptically enquires about her brother), she sounds like a gruff fish-wife! Kindly comments I’ve read about McGovern’s performance – ‘grown-up’, ‘stoic’ and ‘serene’ – obviously translate as ‘old’, ‘wooden’ and ‘expressionless’. True, she portrays Marguerite’s confusion well, but forgets to slip out of her depressed state of grudging acceptance, even when she and Percy are reunited.

Dialogue

The humour is the main attraction of this adaptation of the Scarlet Pimpernel. It mostly consists of innuendo – an infusion of ‘sexiness’ at Carry On level – and a bit of slapstick (the wheels of Chauvelin’s carriage being pulled off) but is still quite funny and well delivered. There’s a dig at one speech-impaired League member by Chauvelin (“I would ssso like to meet him”), and a couple of mocking notes from the Scarlet Pimpernel (“There are some excellent wines in the cellar.”) Most of the laughs are in the snappy banter between the lead characters – apart from the forced, clichéd retorts that are fired between Percy and Marguerite, which sound like those lines written in books but never actually spoken (“What is a wife but inexplicability in petticoats?”) – and the droll delivery of the odd one-liner: “But it don’t rhyme, Shuffle-on, and it ain’t a proper poem if it don’t rhyme.” Richard E. Grant is certainly very good at throwaway snide remarks, and at curling his lip whilst he’s speaking. There are a couple of clever asides from Sir Percy whilst paying a visit to the undercover tailor: when asked if Dewhurst, recently ‘deflowered’ at Mazarini’s orgy, got any sleep the previous night, Percy replies, “I don’t think they let him”, and he quips over a mannequin bearing Robespierre’s new coat, “No head, Citizen? I trust that’s not an omen.” However, Percy’s speeches about cravats and cricket are too long, too luvvie, and not in character enough for him to score against his enemy in a verbal duel, in the tradition of Howard and Andrews – Chauvelin’s withering contempt, and the boredom of the extras in the background, is soon felt by the viewer. Lady Blakeney’s ‘witty ripostes’, meant to score points off her husband, are delivered as though McGovern is memorising lines from Shakespeare – just getting them in the right place is obviously enough (“The time when an Englishman most resembles a lover ..”) But then, as she later confirms, “I am not the oh so witty Lady Blakeney”.

Original Material

Evidence that somebody at least glanced at Orczy’s books, and didn’t just memorise details from the 1934 film, comes with the occasional character or detail from the original source. Angèle St. Cyr, miraculous escape from her family’s fate aside, is actually a character name taken from the first novel. The challenge to a duel that follows is also in the book, although it is the Vicomte de Tournay who challenges Percy on behalf of his mother. There is also a mechanical device portraying the guillotine and playing ‘Ca Ira’, similar to the carnival attraction used by Desirèe Candeille in Orczy’s The Elusive Pimpernel, plus a mirror image of the scene from the same book where Marguerite is given an ultimatum by Chauvelin in the Boulogne prison. Marguerite is told that Sir Percy will have to choose between “his honour or his wife”, but unfortunately for Chauvelin’s bargain, there is no evidence that Sir Percy would care one way or another about Marguerite going to the guillotine!

Painfully, the infamous Richmond ‘garden scene’ is also skirted around, but the mask of pride, the sexual tension, the repressed love, and the near breaking of Sir Percy’s iron will, are all sadly lacking. Marguerite doesn’t try to appeal to Percy with reminiscences, she just mumbles “I thought you loved me”. Instead, it’s the odd quote from the book (“I swore to you my life was yours”), and questions answered with questions. Later, Marguerite tries to explain why she denounced the Marquis St. Cyr and comes close to Orczy’s story with method (“I heard, almost by chance, that the Marquis was plotting with Austria”), but not, of course, with why she did it. If avenging the murder of her parents is more noble than payback for her brother, why has Marguerite hidden the truth for a year? And when Percy, rather harshly, refuses to use his court influence to help Armand, Marguerite screams like a harpy at her husband, but her fear for her brother’s life is unconvincing – perhaps because Armand has been completely forgotten about by this point (“We write to each other awften”, Marguerite tells Suzanne, but an emotional bond between brother and sister is not conveyed). Similarly absent is Percy’s torment over not being able to trust Marguerite enough to comfort her in her distress – far from kissing the ground she walks on, Grant doesn’t even turn in his chair to watch her flee the room in tears.

One fact the film gets wrong is Marguerite’s discovery of her husband’s alias. Following the book is not the issue, it’s how the new twist isn’t very well thought out. Chauvelin tells Marguerite that he “shot and wounded” the Scarlet Pimpernel during their last encounter, which he tells her might prove useful on her forced quest to ‘unmask’ (unfortunately now literally) the mysterious hero. This sets the cogs whirring, and Marguerite instantly demands that Percy’s valet open his master’s study. We are supposed to presume that Marguerite has seen Percy’s wound, but how, when they supposedly estranged? Eighteenth century aristocratic married couples would have had separate bed chambers anyway, so why would Percy and Marguerite intentionally flout that distance when they obviously can’t stand each other? There is also the earlier mention of Percy “disturbing [Marguerite’s] slumbers” on leaving early for France. Why would they be sleeping together? Marguerite’s sudden powers of deduction aside, her confirmation is the discovery of a secret drawer in Percy’s desk – not locked, marked with a Pimpernel flower handle, and containing maps of France (and presumably a bundle of forged papers, allowing Marguerite to journey into France after Percy). Not exactly subtle.

Another mistake is allowing League members to be sacrificed for modern bloodlust. The story is set during the Revolution, but what sort of romantic hero would Sir Percy be if he allowed any of his nineteen followers to die? Danby opens the action by being tortured, and later dying of his wounds (Gasping “Don’t trust her” on his deathbed – trust who?) He is, incredibly, followed into martyrdom by Lord Tony! A main League member! Not only is one of Sir Percy’s best friends shot whilst struggling with Fumier, but he is then kicked whilst down, and shot again – in the head, by Chauvelin, out of sheer frustration. Nor does the deeply layered Sir Percy of Richard E. Grant’s creation seem to care very much: “He knew the risks” becomes Tony’s epitaph, making the whole incident futile with regards to the plot, as there is no emotional consequence.

Although the ‘making of’ extra reports that this remake is based on the 1934 film, there are more instances of scenes ‘inspired’ by the later 1982 television movie with Anthony Andrews and Jane Seymour. Two of these ‘references’ typically involve bedroom action (or are twisted to include suggestive dialogue): Armand is once again seen enjoying the company of Louise Lange, AKA Minette; and Marguerite and Chauvelin again spar over their past relationship (“You rise early” – “You have a short memory”). The tradition that now closes three films – the boat scene, with Sir Percy and Marguerite reunited and sailing home to England aboard the Day Dream – becomes a bed scene, with the final kiss replaced by a roll around under the covers. The main scene in the prison cell, where originally Chauvelin allows Marguerite to visit Sir Percy, in order to try and emotionally blackmail the ‘Scarlet Pimpernel’ into telling him what he has done with the Dauphin. This film is typically contrary and has Percy visiting Marguerite. But the dialogue is familiar, with Marguerite’s cry of “Percy!” and the demand that they be left alone. However, the manipulation of the storyline leaves Grant and McGovern slightly confused – here is where husband and wife break down their barriers and admit their love for each other. Marguerite begs his forgiveness for betraying him, and Percy hers, for not trusting her. But Marguerite’s betrayal isn’t as active as Orczy penned: instead of telling Chauvelin of the meeting in the library at one o’ clock, Marguerite merely pacifies him with a snippet of information about a house (seemingly the only house) used by the League in Paris. Chauvelin actually seems to learn the Scarlet Pimpernel’s identity through Minette, the double agent. So suddenly both characters have to realise a love that hasn’t even been subtly hinted at throughout, and spout lines like “I can’t live without you!” (or, as it’s McGovern’s line, ‘yeeou’). Marguerite tells Percy that she betrayed him (although I’m not sure how), and then adds, “Why didn’t you tell me, Percy? Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?” Chauvelin actually gave her the answer to this earlier – “He never trusted you – his French republican wife” – but it’s quite possible she wasn’t alert enough to remember. Lips are unromantically mashed together, after Grant rather unconvincingly tells her that “You’re my life and nothing can come between us”, and then Chauvelin takes him away and locks him up. The words are there, the contact is there, but there’s no passion, and no sense that Grant as Percy cares one way or another – his smug expression doesn’t change, his delivery doesn’t soften, and he doesn’t look at all concerned that the wife he has just confessed his love for is in prison because of him. And as Marguerite says, “We’re alone, there’s no-one to play to”! It’s as if Percy’s marriage is an awkward detail that the screenwriter just didn’t dare completely erase, instead of being the main thread of what is essentially a romance. Grant certainly acts as though he’s racing through his scenes with McGovern to get to more violent action as the Pimpernel.

[sunfortune]

sunny remember when you said something about a plague on polin's home? just read that a fire broke out in wrotham park a.k.a the filming location for aubrey hall asjhkh (dw there were no injuries or casualties.)

no way What 😭 glad everyone’s okay

[love-miss-bridgerton]

Wrotham Park (Aubrey Hall)

A single storey brick building used as a stables went up in flames, but there were luckily no casualites.

Fortunately, the star-studded stately home and other properties near the stables remained intact.

Firefighters from Hertfordshire Fire and Rescue and the London Fire Brigade managed to get the fire under control but remained on site yesterday evening.

The incident was declared over in the early hours of this morning.

The impressive 17-acre English estate is a familiar favourite for period-drama fans.

Bridgerton addicts will recognise Wrotham Park Estate as Aubrey Hall, the main family's country escape, in the raunchy bodice-ripper.

The beautiful scenery featured in much of the second series, where the Bridgertons hosted a country soiree for London's society at their ancestral home.

Yesterday morning, before the fire broke out, the director and executive producer of Bridgerton posted photos on Instagram which fans believed to be the location of Aubrey Hall.

[mybeingthere]

Charles Mahoney (British, 1903–1968) - artist, teacher, gardener. 

"Born Cyril Mahoney in Lambeth, London in 1903, he was later renamed Charlie (to much relief) by his close friend Barnett Freedman while they were studying at the Royal College of Art. Following art school in Beckenham, Mahoney had won a place at the RCA in 1922, where he would also count Edward Bawden, Gerald Ososki and Percy Horton as friends. Students were encouraged by Sir William Rothenstein, College Principal and Professor of Painting, to find commissions for their work and engage socially with influential art world figures. It was also during this period that Mahoney would discover a love of mural painting and theatre design.....................

After college, he spent a miserable year working at Thanet Schools of Art before returning to the RCA as Visiting Painting Tutor in 1928. It was not long before he was commissioned to paint a thirty-foot-long mural for the stage at Morley College for Working Men and Women, entitled The Pleasures of Life (1928–1930). Geoffrey Rhoades helped Mahoney complete the mural, while Edward Bawden and Eric Ravilious decorated the refectory........................................

Another result to emerge from the Brockley mural project is Mahoney's intimate relationship with Evelyn Dunbar. Their shared enthusiasm for plants and horticulture, as well as painting and drawing, were established in illustrated letters between the two. She once warned him in a letter: 'Don't ever have too big a garden, or with your avidity for making the names in the catalogue come true, you'll never touch a brush or a pencil.'...........................................

After Mahoney and Dunbar parted ways, Mahoney purchased the inexpensive sixteenth-century Oak Cottage at Wrotham in Kent, for him and his mother Bessie. This was to be the location of Mahoney's first and only garden, where he would spend the rest of his life cultivating hogweed and Japanese knotweed beside giant sunflowers (of which he was particularly fond of)."

From the article by Victoria Rodrigues O'Donnell

https://artuk.org/.../charles-mahoney-teacher-artist...

[triviareads]

I like the Bridgerton production design a lot, but it’s a real bummer they don’t appear to have filmed much at period locations this time. I understand they couldn’t have been running around the country like in S1 (in York, Bath etc), but there are still some Georgian era buildings in and around London. They clearly chose the ugly Aubrey Hall, Wrotham Park, because it’s 20 minutes outside of London. There are much prettier stately homes if they’d been willing to go a little further out. The Bridgertons are only Viscount, not Dukes, so it wasn’t going to be another Castle Howard. But it’s a fantasy show and Aubrey Hall doesn’t look that impressive or aspirational.

Also Will’s new club — I don’t ask for historical accuracy in regency romance but on its face the premise is ridiculous. The Bridgertons and the rest of the aristos are abandoning White’s and Brooks to hang out at the brand new club opened by a working-class former boxer? lmao. Was your gentlemen’s club not part of your identity basically? Also the club standing in for White’s in S1 was the gorgeous reform club *in London.* It’s not like it was in a location now inconvenient to them. Now the club is a soundstage.

As I have only been to Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, and Leeds Castle (personal favorite- they had a hedge maze!), I'll take your word for there being prettier stately homes out there :)

As for Will's new club, honestly, I'll take it. It will be interesting to see what Will does with a gentlemen's club, even if historically speaking, no aristocrat would ever venture outside the club they were politically affiliated with, and a club such as Will's would probably cater to new money and/or working-class men. Fingers crossed his club doesn't become just another venue for Anthony to whine about his girl troubles to poor Will, especially after S1.

And I had no idea "White's" was set in the Reform Club (which is fairly ironic if you think about it)! I was looking into its history recently to see if a character's political viewpoints would qualify him as a member. I guess the actual White's was too snobby to let Bridgerton film in there lol.

[mskatesharma]

I genuinely think AH it’s going to be a mix of places. West Wycombe Park is amazing and really fit the description of Aubrey Hall and it looks more like a “house” even if it’s a palace but it’s very homely and I think there is a lake there too. They could have used Wrotham Park for the interiors or for other places. I mean, this is all speculation, we don’t know anything about the plot or the others storylines. I’m really trying not to get my hopes too high cause I know I’ll be deluded otherwise

Anonymous said:

I mean several different locations can be used to film the aubrey hall scenes

Yeah, I am kinda hoping they amalgamate a few places together for Aubrey Hall. I mean, they’re going to need to have filmed in a flower garden for one as well if they’re keeping with some of the book locations. I think we’ll just have to wait and see

[howardhawkshollywoodannex]

Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones in The Aeronauts (2019).  Filming began Aug 2018, in West London Film Studios. Filming locations included the Royal Naval College, Greenwich, Regent's Park, London, Claydon House, Buckinghamshire, the Bodleian Library in Oxford, Wrotham Park, London[15] and The Historic Dockyard Chatham in Kent.[16]

[the-underestimated-amelia-bones]

dateless

Location: Wildcard – Wrotham Park Date: Sunday, April 26, 1977 Time: During the reception

It would have been strange for Amelia not to attend the Black-Lestrange wedding. She would have thought it odd to be invited, but she had a feeling that most of the prominent Pureblood families had been invited. As one of the last remaining representatives of her family, she felt she had to go and represent them--and of course made Edgar do the same. Besides, if she didn’t go, she knew Bellatrix would bring it up the next time they saw each other. There would be hundreds of people at the wedding, but Amelia did not put it past the eldest Black daughter to still notice.

So, she dressed in a new dress--again, somehow Bella or that dratted Rita Skeeter would just know if it was one she already owned--and was determined to make the best of it. 

Of course, that was until she was cornered several dozen times throughout the day by matrons wanting to talk to her about their handsome, successful, wizard sons.  Frankly, Amelia would have thought it was the other way around, that women would be running after the eligible bachelors. And perhaps they were. But her focus was entirely taken up by trying to avoid any older women who looked like they might be coming her way. 

It was times like these she especially missed her parents. They at least would have been able to provide a buffer. Although her mother might very well have been one of those women scoping out potential partners for her hopelessly single daughter. She didn’t think so, but with Amelia still unattached at her age, she knew it was a possibility. And where was her dratted brother to help her out? Hiding from winsome wixens himself?

Amelia groaned, nearly tripping on a tablecloth as she hurried by in her heels. Her dress swished behind her. She should have gotten a damn date. But there had been no one she wanted to go with. Well, no one she could go with anyway.

She kept her eyes fixedly away from the table where she knew a certain someone was sitting as she made her way towards the bar. Her path was cut off by a determined looking Mrs. Zabini, causing Amelia to stop short and turn back around. Of course, the path to the bar was a busy one, so Amelia only managed to further embarrass herself by running into the person behind her who had been heading in the same direction. 

“Oh! Oh gosh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I just--sorry!!” she apologized again, trying to still make her escape.

[forestraydentists]

Croydon

Croydon is a large town located in south London, England. It is the seat of the London Borough of Croydon, and is one of the largest commercial areas in Greater London. The city is home to a wide range of shops, and a lively night economy. There are many museums and attractions in the city, as well as a large sports complex.

The town’s name is derived from the Old French word croie dune, meaning “chalk hill”. It is located on the northern edge of the chalk hills known as the North Downs. The area is a major centre for both the labour and temperance movements. In the early nineteenth century, Croydon was a thriving commercial district of London. Public houses were the sites of early labour meetings. However, Croydon also had a strong temperance movement. Georgina King Lewis, an early member of the Croydon United Temperance Council, set up a dry center for the labour movement in the town. Learn more.

The town is home to several political parties. The Conservative Party controls the council, with approximately 45% of seats being held by Conservatives. The Lib Dems hold just one seat in the town. Croydon Borough Council is divided into 24 wards, and all of the seats on the council were up for re-election in the 2006 local elections. The Conservatives took 10 seats from Labour and one from the Liberal Democrats. This makes the Conservatives the majority party in Croydon.

Croydon has several theatres, and many community arts groups. The town has a large, landscaped green space that is adjacent to the town hall and Clocktower art centre. It is also home to several small comedy venues and community arts groups. The Spread Eagle Theatre is a modern 50-seat studio theatre, which collaborates with the Old Joint Stock Theatre in Birmingham.

The city’s history dates back to the 18th century, when the town became an important stop for stage coaches. The town was also the endpoint of two early commercial transport links with London. The Surrey Iron Railway arrived in Croydon in 1803, and it was extended to Merstham in 1805. The Croydon, Merstham and Godstone Railway followed in 1809. The Croydon Canal branched off the Grand Surrey Canal at Deptford. Later, in 1839, the London and Croydon Railway began running between London Bridge and West Croydon.

The town is also home to several historic buildings. The Croydon Town Hall is the city’s third town hall, which was built in 1895. The town’s first town hall was built in 1566, and the second one was constructed in 1808 and demolished in 1895. The current town hall was designed by local architect Charles Henman and was officially opened by the Prince and Princess of Wales on 19 May 1896. The building is built of red brick from Wrotham in Kent, with green Westmorland slates used for the roof.

In the past, Croydon was a bustling market town. It was the gateway between Brighton and London, and was home to the Surrey Iron Railway. In 1809, it was followed by the Croydon Canal and then the London and Croydon Railway. In the early twentieth century, Croydon opened an aerodrome, which operated until 1959. Sadly, this historic site was badly damaged during World War II. The last scheduled flight to Croydon departed from Croydon on 30 September 1959.

A great place to also visit is:

    Originally published here: https://forestray.dentist/london/croydon/

[ervtreiaarchive-blog]

LOCATION: Masquerade Ball, ballroom DATE & TIME: October 31st 2178, 10:45pm WITH: Wrotham Sirens ( @kalliawexler & @ravenayres )

The place was unlike anything Eretreia has ever seen. The golden walls shone with encrusted pearls, waiters so well dressed they blended right in, everyone’s eyes cloaked with adorned lace. It was beautiful but shallow, a sense of dread starting to settle as the night moved along and scandals unraveled, gossip dripping out of society’s tongue like honey in a jar. She was starting to suffocate, counting the hours until she could either go back to the Concord or something other than gossip spiked her attention. Her silent prayers were answered.

With a drink in her hand, she played with the glass and its liquid contents, taking a sip absently, scanning the room, until she found the person they were looking for. Strays of blonde hair fell on their face, making it harder to make out their features, added difficulty by the mask that covered all their features; but the way they hide behind the column instead of blending in matched the description. Without taking her eyes out of the target, Eretreia spoke to her crewmates. “That’s the target,” she nodded in their direction, finally moving her gaze and body to face Raven and Kallia. A mischief smile shaped on her lips as she lowered the glass to the countertop, specifically looking for Raven, holding her tongue before saying it’s your type.

“So, what’s the plan?” Finally, adrenaline started to pump in her veins.