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rebeccalouisaferguson · 3 years ago

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Rebecca Ferguson is tired of the role of a «strong woman».

She has played against Tom Cruise, Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya. Made action, costume drama and musical. Still, Rebecca Ferguson is often offered the same type of female role: the strong, noble and cool. Now she takes matters into her own hands in pursuit of the characters she never played before.

Maybe Rebecca Ferguson is so successful that we do not understand that she is Swedish. For the past decade, she has acted as an action hero against Tom Cruise in "Mission Impossible", portrayed opera singer Jenny Lind against Hugh Jackman in "The Greatest Showman" and played against Hugh Grant and Meryl Streep in "Florence Foster Jenkins".

Last year, she was praised for her role as Lady Jessica in the big movie "Dune", based on the cult book of the same name, written by Frank Herbert in 1965. But now that she has been honored at the Gothenburg Film Festival, the question of why we Swedes no longer brag about her is of the motivation.

- Yes, I do not know. It is up to others to answer why I do not get more attention in Sweden, it is not a question I ask myself. I work non-stop and the media bit and attention is not something I was looking for, says Rebecca Ferguson.

She is sitting in a car driving through London. It's late at night and she has just finished a filming day for the upcoming TV series "Wool". Her life in England is highly private. What we do know is that she lives in the Richmond district, that her house is near the river Thames, that her husband is called Rory (surname unknown) and is an "entrepreneur" and that she has two children: a teenage son with her Swedish ex-husband and a little daughter with the aforementioned Rory.

- People like me thrive quite well in the shadows, I like to stay here. But I long for Sweden and it is really honoring for me to be noticed at home. I am grateful to have been highlighted in such a nice context and wish I could have gone there, she says.

Rebecca Ferguson was born and raised in Stockholm with a British mother and a Swedish father. She has only been to Gothenburg once in her life and never visited the film festival, which she has not been able to do this year either: due to covid, she only participates digitally.

As a child, Rebecca Ferguson was shy. She went to music school and danced ballet, but could not give speeches to the class without being ashamed and starting to blush. Today, she appears very confident, in gala dresses on red carpets, mingling with the Hollywood elite, charming in the talk shows.

- But I can still think that it's tough to step forward and talk in front of people. The more I work, the more confident I become in my role and position and I have no problem selling a film that I feel proud of. But I definitely have a shy and timid side, she says.

But then Rebecca Ferguson was also forced to overcome her worst shyness when, as a 15-year-old, she got the lead role in the Swedish soap opera "New Times", an initiative that would replace "Different Worlds", which in turn would replace "Three Crowns". It was simply a time of greatness for TV soaps in Sweden and "New Times" was broadcast in half-hour episodes on TV4 every weekday between the autumn of 1999 and the spring of 2001.

For Rebecca Ferguson, the offer of the TV series came at the right time. She had just finished high school at Adolf Fredrik's music school and was in the middle of the infamous life choice which is to choose a high school specialization. The role of Anna Gripenhielm made her famous overnight. Rebecca dropped out of high school.

- "New times" became my life. I just drove on and never questioned that choice then or now. Everything that happened after that is a domino effect of that decision, I have nothing else to compare with, she says.

After two years in the soap world, Rebecca Ferguson disappeared. She moved to Skåne, had a child and managed to get a regular job for almost ten years. She worked at a Korean restaurant, at Dressman in Simrishamn, as a cleaner in a hotel and recorded fictional audio books. For the money she earned, she took private acting courses, but her career stood still. She considered giving up that part of her life.

- I have really fought for my career, have not slipped into a banana peel. After "New Times" I did not know what I wanted - so I tested everything. But who knows what would have happened if I had not met Richard Hobert in that market. Then everything could have been different, she says.

Director Richard Hobert was looking for an actress who could play the lead role in his upcoming film "En enkel till Antibes". For weeks he had been searching in his memory for the name of a young Swedish girl he had seen in TV soap a few years earlier, without results.

He went to his summer house in Simrishamn and suddenly Rebecca Ferguson stood in front of him among the tourists at a flea market. Hobert recognized her immediately and knew he had found the right one. One week later, Rebecca Ferguson was on a plane to Norrland to meet her costar Sven-Bertil Taube.

- All stories and careers are unique in their own way, but this was really special and changed the direction of my life. I have friends who are still struggling, who go to castings and record tapes every week, and I make sure to tell them and the younger people around me that my life and my path are not ordinary.

There is a gratitude in Rebecca Ferguson's voice as she talks about her career. After "En enkel till Antibes" everything went fast. She got the lead role in the British TV series "The White Queen", a role that would be Ferguson's international breakthrough, and she left Sweden before she even had time to start her career here.

Suddenly she was sitting on a huge TV series recording in England and turned to her costar Max Irons in a moment of clarity and said "Can you believe this, we're in a real BBC production". He replied, "I know. Let’s just take it in ”.

- And I try to really capture such moments. I often reflect on what luck I have that has taken me where I am and experienced so many things. I told my mother the other day, she called and asked why she had not heard from me in a long time and I told her that it is because I have so much fun, I work hard and am so happy.

The role of Elizabeth Woodville in "The White Queen" led to a Golden Globe nomination for Rebecca Ferguson. One of those who saw the series was Tom Cruise, who immediately decided that Rebecca was the person he was looking for in his upcoming "Mission Impossible" movie. She had flown to the desert in Morocco for a new filming when she got the call.

- It was a crazy time. I was sitting on a camel named Barbie when they called and told me to fly and meet Tom. I had a day off, then I needed to be back in the desert. By the way, the last person to ride that camel was Nicole Kidman. It felt like a sign, she says.

Since then, Rebecca Ferguson's CV has been filled with a variety of films. She has done sci-fi, musicals, action and horror. Has played against some of Hollywood's biggest stars. But still, some words always come back to describe her roles: strong, cool and noble portraits of women.

- Yes and now you do too. Repeat the same word to describe me. It is enough that you do two such roles well to feed the generalized image of you. Then you're stuck in a typecasting. It will be a moment 22, you get the role because you are good but you also want to be free from it ...

How do you choose your roles today?

- In a way, I can choose, because thankfully, offers come all the time. But at the same time, there are things I seek that do not come my way. I do not get everything I want, am not always satisfied. That is why I want to produce, to have more to say in it, she says.

In the new TV series "Wool", she gets to do just that for the first time. In addition, she plays a character she has longed for, a mechanic who "maneuvers wrenches all day". In addition, she is looking for assignments in Sweden, reading script after script and chasing her agents to make Swedish film, but so far they have not come her way, "maybe because people think I am not interested".

- My biggest problem right now is that I do not have time for everything I want to do. I like to dip my foot a little everywhere and feel like an open book right now. There are endless ideas and it makes me very excited, she says.

Rebecca Ferguson - interview for Göteborgs Posten, published 15 February 2022.

Translated from swedish for @rebeccalouisaferguson

#rebecca ferguson #interview #nya tider #A One Way Trip To Antibes #twq interview #wool interview

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textsfromumbridge · 7 years ago

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All the men and women merely players (1/??)

aka that trashy rethaniel high school AU I promised to write.

All the love to @catty-words and @rebeccaplimpton for being excited for everything about this fic. The ship trash group chat has greatly improved my life and I’ll happily flail with you all the damn time.

To all the readers: if you’re even half as far into this trash can as I am, please come talk to me!

CHAPTER ONE: Don’t let me be your star (AO3)

His father would not approve. Any after school activities had to involve money or networking - that’s why he’d been in Future Business Leaders of America since the fifth grade. It is why he’d started attending networking events in kindergarten. Diversifying his interests to appeal to colleges was completely unnecessary. His father would get him in anywhere close enough to keep an eye on him - Stanford was at the top of Plimpton Senior’s list.

So telling his father he’d been forcibly enlisted into Rodgers Academy’s theater program, yeah he’d prefer for this to remain a secret for the rest of his natural born life. Because if (please, not when) his father found out, that natural born life would end very shortly.

But not joining the theater program stopped being an option when he was caught deflowering the pastor’s daughter under the stands in the auditorium. Mr. Whitefeather was not above blackmail.

Auditioning for the school musical became mandatory. Casting a mere formality - he would be on that stage, humiliated in front of the entire school, no matter how badly he tanked his audition. He might as well do himself proud and be the best actor and singer their school had ever seen.

Yes, he had heard of Rebecca Nora Bunch before the cast list went up. She was a notorious theater freak with a serious lady boner for Josh Chan, the football captain who for some reason called everyone his bro. She’d also gotten the lead in every show ever since she walked into Rodgers Academy freshman year looking like she masturbated to the Glee soundtrack.

Honestly, she was more driven than actually talented. He’d been to enough Broadway shows to tell the difference - really, the theater was a great place to network.

So he wasn’t all that impressed when the cast list for Cinderella went up and her name was right next to the famous princess. It didn’t have anything to do with his name being next to Prince Topher - he could have chemistry with a rock if necessary.

He just figured that if Mr. Whitefeather was truly that desperate for a win, he might actually shake things up for once. Or maybe he just didn’t have enough dirt on the rest of the school. Or maybe Rebecca Bunch had too much dirt on him - Nathaniel would not put it past her to blackmail her teacher into giving her the lead. She’d obviously identified with Sharpay when watching High School Musical.

Not that he’d ever seen the movies. Or heard any of the surprisingly catchy songs.

“Nathaniel,” he suddenly heard her right next to him.

She even pronounced his name in that old-timey voice she used to sound more dignified. It made his dick actually shrivel up inside his body.

“Bunch,”’ he nodded.

No way she needed to know that he knew her full name. Using her first name would imply that they were equals, and they were anything but. Plimptons were always superior - they were the Malfoys of this city.

“I see you’ve developed a sudden interest in the theatre,” she continued to talk to him in that ridiculous voice.

“Someone had to show you how it’s done.”

Plimptons always had to have the last line.

Exit, pursued by an angry theater freak.

It was going to be hard enough to fake any sort of chemistry with that… embodiment of everything that was wrong with the world. Sure, she was an Actress, but surely even Meryl herself had her limits! Surely not even Barbra and Bernadette, not even Idina could work opposite someone as Wrong as Nathaniel Plimpton the Third.

The name alone made her want to gag. Such pretension!

Really, what was Mr. Whitefeather thinking? Surely the divorce was getting to him. This was just a midlife crisis expressing itself in the worst way.

Why didn’t the man just buy an expensive penis metaphor like all the other idiots instead of ruining her life?

And why did Greg have to graduate and leave for Emory? He was no Josh Chan, but he was certainly an accomplished singer who could almost hold his own against her many talents.

All the men in her life just abandoned her. Even Robert left her - okay, so she was the one who told the principal, but he was not going to leave his wife for her (she was eighteen, it was legal!), so what else was a girl to do except get him fired?

The only person who was even remotely supportive of her was Paula - Mrs. Proctor. She had to remember to call her that at school.

“I need your help,” she dropped into her chair.

Yes, she had a thrice-weekly standing appointment with the guidance counselor. It started as a condition for her staying at the school after the fire and the Robert situation, but by now she and Paula were basically best friends. Just because they couldn’t actually wear the bracelets Paula had made at school, didn’t make it any less true.

“Did you get the part?” Paula immediately dropped everything. “Of course you did, Cookie, you’re the most talented person in this school. Just don’t tell any of the other students that I said that.”

This was what friendship was like: unconditional support. So what if it came from the almost middle aged guidance counselor at her high school?

“I got the part,” she huffed. “But clearly Mr. Whitefeather is in some sort of crisis, because he cast that, that… that pompous butthead as Prince Topher. How can a one-dimensional douche like Nathaniel Plimpton do justice to a romantic hero?”

Prince Topher was supposed to be likeable, and while Nathaniel Plimpton was a lot of things, likeable certainly was not one of them. Arrogant? Definitely. Pompous? Certainly. Vain? Indubitably. Despicable? Absolutely. Attractive? Maybe in the right light, if he kept his mouth shut (or otherwise occupied) for longer than five seconds. But likeable? Hell no.

“I didn’t know he was interested in pursuing theater,” Paula clearly smelled a nefarious plot, and Rebecca couldn’t blame her for that.

“Me neither,” she huffed. “I’m not even sure that he’s interested in anything other than ruining my life.”

Obviously that was his reason for pursuing this - had he ever shown interest in anything that did not involve money or sex before?

Was this She’s All That? Did he make a bet with one of his cronies that he could sleep with her? Clearly he was underestimating her considerable brains, because she’d been saving herself for the moment Josh Chan finally realized she was his soulmate. It was bound to happen soon.

“Ugh, why are we still talking about him?” Rebecca was over it, for now. “We should be talking about the love of my life and how he’s totally going to dump Valencia any day now. Not that I’m rooting for another woman’s pain, because that’s totally unfeminist of me, but clearly they just don’t make each other happy.”

Paula nodded sagely - she’d been witness to many a Jolencia (patent pending) fight, often managing to have Rebecca near Josh when he needed someone to console him. Really, the woman was a gift and Rebecca did not know what she’d done in this life or a previous one to deserve a gem like Paula Proctor.

“I hear he has been visiting with Father Joseph more often,” Paula let the gossip slip with a gleeful smile.

Technically the visits with the school chaplain were completely confidential, but Paula could find out if she claimed to be concerned about a student. Paula had access to every single one of Josh’s records and files. Paula had all the intel and the know-how to use said intel to greatly improve Rebecca’s life.

“Seeking divine counsel,” Rebecca tried really hard to ignore that the love of her life was a gentile. “It means he really is in the middle of a personal crisis.”

It had to have something to do with the way he looked at her last time she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and told him that he deserved happiness. He’d leaned in a bit more than usual, and she’d smelled his body wash and his hair product (she’d already made a note of his preferred brands ages ago) before he pulled away because they were still in a public hallway. He just couldn’t hurt Valencia’s feelings like that - how noble of him.

Josh Chan was a good man. A kind man.

“Just like we planned,” Paula’s grin had a touch of villainy about it.

They laughed madly, their cackles echoing against the office’s windows, freaking out Geoff the office aid. Yeah, Geoff, that was his name.

Ugh, forget him. He wasn’t important, barely rated a speaking role in the world of Rebecca Nora Bunch.

No, Josh Chan was clearly the male lead in the story of her life.

The first official rehearsal for Cinderella was an absolute disaster.

How these people had ever managed to put on any show, he really wasn’t sure. With the new additions who’d clearly been blackmailed into this as well, head bitch Valencia Perez and that Heather girl who always seemed stoned, Mr. Whitefeather’s associates might stand a chance of doing something decent. It was an extremely small chance, though.

After Weirdo Karen’s seemingly serious question about a part for her pet snake, he’d pretty much given up on spending his precious time in any kind of useful manner.

He’d already forgotten all of their names not five minutes after the ridiculous ice breaker games they’d been forced to play. That still did not stop any of the unproductive dweebs from wanting to be his friend.

Sure, he got it. He was talented, wealthy, and a good connection to have. They just did not have anything to offer him in return - he wasn’t interested in friendship. What would he get out of it? It wouldn’t help him get to Stanford, wouldn’t help him into law school and then into a prime position at his father’s firm.

Really, he was here to do his time and then bail without his father ever knowing.

“Nathaniel,” damn Bunch actually cornered him after rehearsal.

Again with the voice.

“Cut that out,” he rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t hide from your lack of talent. I suggest wearing more low-cut tops, to show off your other… gifts.”

He made it a point to look down at her, trying to get a peek down her shirt - but of course she was once again dressed like a real life librarian, when she should have been dressing like the porn version.

Maybe then Josh Chan would pull his head out of his ass. Clearly he didn’t want to be with his bitchy girlfriend.

Ugh, monogamy. Just the thought of it made him reach for the disinfectant gel in his bookbag. He’d had to touch too many of these losers already - maybe feelings would catch.

The chase, that was his true and only love. After all, men were hunters by nature. One and done, and then he completely lost interest.

Speaking of losing interest...

“I wasn’t done with you,” Bunch was apparently still talking.

“I’m sure you have plenty of fascinating things to tell me,” he made a point to check the time on his Rolex. “Some of us actually have places to be.”

Like the gym - he was feeling rather bloated today. Clearly the new chef had not been notified about the strict dietary restrictions in his diet. He was sure he could taste actual butter, and that just wouldn’t do.

Perhaps he’d have to prepare some kale shakes, just in case the chef didn’t get the memo.

“You’re talented,” she stalled him.

“I know,” he didn’t even grin.

“Ugh,” she crossed her arms over her ample, ample chest. “You’re the embodiment of every private school dick movie cliche. I know you don’t care about me either, but we have to put on a good show - my life depends on it!”

He heard maybe thirty percent of what she said, too busy staring at the way her crossed arms pushed up her chest. He’d certainly made an excellent point about the low-cut tops. Maybe then she’d get some people to like her, and not just the teachers.

“Still talking,” she snapped her fingers at him.

“Still not interested,” he shot back, briefly making the effort to look at her face.

She was a little hotter when she was angry - a little less tragic and pathetic. Shame she was too chubby to even consider banging her. She seemed like she needed someone to fuck that stick out of her ass, stat.

“I know Mr. Whitefeather has something on you,” she stopped him from leaving.

“And?”

That didn’t rattle him in the slightest.

“You’re already risking your reputation,” she had nothing to say that he didn’t already know. “So why not have some self-respect and put on the best show you possibly can?”

Clearly he was not the one who had issues with self-respect. No person with any kind of self-esteem pined for Mr. If I Only Had A Brain for four years.

“And you think I’d need you for that?” he scoffed.

Maybe she was moderately more talented than the rest of the cast, and maybe she was the only one actually willing to put in the work.

But was he actually that desperate?

“We’re the leads,” Bunch made her final arguments. “If we work well together, it’ll lift the whole production to a new level.”

“Not interested,” he finally made his escape.

As if he’d voluntarily spend more time with any of those people. He had more than enough talent all by himself.

It really was a beautiful day.

Finally, it had happened. One minute she was just sitting alone at lunch, memorizing her lines in her first big song, and just a few minutes later she was in the janitor’s closet with Joshua Felix Chan. And they were KISSING!

Okay, so he hadn’t broken up with Valencia (yet!), but she just knew that locking lips with her had totally changed his world. He’d looked dazed afterwards, when they finally stepped out of the closet.

Of course he went first and she had to wait a few minutes, but still! The lips of Rebecca Nora Bunch had actually touched those of Joshua Felix Chan.

She just loved saying his full name, almost as much as she liked the name Rebecca Chan. Chan-Bunch? Yeah, maybe hyphenating wasn’t such a bad idea. Because fuck the patriarchy.

“You’re late,” Nathaniel was actually in time for rehearsal.

“And you’re not,” she made sure the surprise was audible.

Hell, she was mostly surprised that he was here at all. He made it very clear that he did not consider himself to be a part of the group, and that he did not want to be here. (Note to self: find out what kind of dirt Mr. Whitefeather had on him)

“A Plimpton is never late,” he recited the words without inflection.

“Who coined those pearls of wisdom?” she scoffed.

There was no response, just a tightening of his jaw that told her that it was probably his terrible father. Clearly, someone who acted like Nathaniel Plimpton did with women had some serious father issues.

And well, like did call to like.

At least his father told him some things.

“Good to see you’ve learned something about responsibility,” she didn’t like the broken look in his eyes.

“I won’t be the only one learning something,” he made it sound like a warning.

Really? Was he going to teach her a lesson? Unless it was about being an unprincipled jackass, she wasn’t going to learn a thing. He wasn’t all that.

“I’m terrified,” she rolled her eyes at him.

“Alright idiots, listen up,” Nathaniel demanded the attention of the entire group. “Mr. Whitefeather will probably be late again - Mr. Wilson was wearing a tank again and the man is too weak to keep from staring.”

Wow, Nathaniel actually had a point there - Josh Wilson was a really nice specimen, and ever since Mr. Whitefeather had come out as bi at the end of last year, he’d been all too interested in their new gym teacher. Personally, Rebecca didn’t see it, even when people had pointed out how much he looked like Josh Chan.

Clearly Josh Chan was superior to the judgmental chipmunk. Mr. Wilson did not like her at all, and she took offense. So what if she conveniently got a mental health crisis every time jumping or running was involved? She had to protect her classmates - her boobs were actually going to kill someone someday.

Denise Martinez’s eye injury had been proof enough of that.

“We’re starting practice without him,” Nathaniel was really trying to make the drill sergeant look work for him. “Warm ups, now! None of you are fit enough to dance and sing at the same time. Start running!”

Well, not everyone could be as fit as Nathaniel Plimpton himself - seriously, it was kind of worrying how much time he allegedly spent in the gym. Not counting the times he spent exercising with impressionable young girls, of course.

Ugh, gross. Sweaty, semi-naked Nathaniel. Why did her brain even do that to her?

“That includes you, Bunch,” Nathaniel’s gaze fell on her. “Start moving!”

What? She wasn’t one of those unprofessional idiots - she was in shape. Round was a shape, and she wasn’t going to develop any more body image issues just because Nathaniel Plimpton took offense to a woman with actual meat on her bones.

“I have better breath control than you do, asswipe,” she hollered at him, pretending she wasn’t a little bit out of breath from her fast-walk in his direction.

Crap, okay, maybe the asswipe had a point about the running.

He was not still thinking about what the running had done to Rebecca Bunch’s chest. He’d not been completely distracted by it, and he hadn’t stared at all.

Okay, he had, but he was only human.

At least he hadn’t made inappropriate comments, like Freaking Karen. Was there any way he could just kick her out of the show, or out of the school entirely? He knew she’d been held back twice already, but it was high time she left.

Just, the woman had no boundaries, and she’d clearly made Rebecca more than a bit uncomfortable. Bunch. She made Bunch uncomfortable.

She hated him by practice’s end, because he was more effective at making her move than Mr. Wilson had been in weeks. He just wasn’t going to hear any of her outlandish excuses - he just challenged her, basically daring her into doing the work. She hated being made to feel like she was worse than her classmates at something.

Not that he could relate to that or anything.

Because he was actually better than all of his classmates - it was just one of the many facts of life that came with being a Plimpton.

Like his fantastic memory, which was currently helping him in his prep for the next Cinderella rehearsal. Words came easily to him, remembering exact phrases had always helped him with his father.

Strict was not a strong enough word for his old man.

“Nathaniel?”

Speak of the devil and he shall use the intercom to be terrifyingly present. He hated it when Father managed to interrupt one of the few moments of peace and quiet he had in a day - and they’d gotten even more rare since the whole blackmail-induced theater escapades had started.

“Yes father?” he spoke into the receiver.

This was never a good sign. His father made it a habit never to interfere in his life unless he felt like there was something that needed improving.

Clearly, he’d failed again.

“You were home late today,” the accusation was obvious.

Really, Father never even needed to ask the question. As a good son, he was obliged to explain his actions in a satisfactory manner.

Well, time to see if he was good at lying to his father. He knew he was failing him just by having to lie, but he didn’t see another way. There was no way out of this that left him in a single piece, other than to lie.

And the best lies stuck close to the truth.

“I was tutoring some fellow students,” he squeezed his hand into a fist and focused on keeping his breathing steady.

Never volunteer any extra information, real events weren’t actually like a perfect story from a film - he’d researched lying quite extensively so he would know. And keeping it simple made it less likely that he’d get caught up in his own lies.

“What subject?” his father just had to pry.

“Biology,” he’d already thought of the proper subject.

It was part of the sciences, so not considered too frivolous and a waste of his time, yet also not something his father was an expert at - Plimpton senior knew economics and law and cared for little else.

Not even his son.

“Are you still on top of your own school work?” of course that was the real issue.

“Of course father,”

“Your work comes first,” Father issued the final warning. “I’m sure none of the other students are in line to study at an Ivy League university.”

And none of these other students were Plimptons with reputations to maintain - if he didn’t get into a college that was acceptable to his family, that would be the end of him. His father had never specifically stated what would happen to him, but that just made it all the more terrifying. He had to get in - there was no other option.

“Bunch is,” he muttered.

“What was that, Nathaniel?”

His father hated it when people didn’t enunciate properly.

“Rebecca Bunch,” he hated himself for even mentioning her. “One of the students. She is applying to the Ivies and several competitive cultural programs. Sir.”

His father shouldn’t be aware of Bunch’s existence, but he’d done it now. And he didn’t even know why - why did he even mention Bunch in the first place? Sure, he’d just spent time with her, but that shouldn’t matter. He’d been on the phone with his father during quite a couple trysts, and he’d never felt the slightest urge to ever mention the girl in question.

So why Bunch?

“At least you have some people in your life with a good head on their shoulders,” his father ended the conversation.

Of course Father had to have the last word, leaving him to laugh silently in his room.

Bunch never thought with the head on her shoulders. She thought with her libido and her heart and her fantasies.

And it was not an endearing feature, damn it.

Josh and Valencia had broken up, and it was all because of her.

She probably should be feeling some sort of guilt, but instead all she could think about was what this meant for her own future with Josh.

It meant that she actually had a real future with Josh - it was not just contingent upon him realizing that he wasn’t meant to be with Valencia, now it was real. He’d kissed her, he’d seen her, and then his relationship ended.

Sure, he hadn’t talked to her and she’d had to hear it through the grapevine, but she could afford to give him a day or two to settle his affairs before he finally asked her to be his new girlfriend. It gave her time to primp and look her best when he did ask.

And he would ask any day now, any hour, any minute.

This was how it was supposed to go when she finally got her happily ever after, just like in that movie Slumbered. The whole world was going to fall away until there was nothing except for her and Josh. And then he would tell her he loved her, more than he’d ever loved anyone and they’d date and live happily ever after and she’d thank him when she won her first Tony before the age of thirty.

“Bunch, are you even still paying attention?”

Ugh, there went that dream.

Instead of spending time with the man of her dreams, she was forced to spend the next hour and a half working solely with Nathaniel Plimpton. Talk about a buzzkill.

“I have danced before,” she carefully avoided actually answering the question.

Because the answer was actually no - of course she was not paying attention to the asswipe currently looming over her. He was all up in her personal space for this stupid dance routine that Mr. Wilson was making them learn.

Apparently it was vitally important that Mr. Wilson help out with this - or more likely, it was vitally important to Mr. Whitefeather that he dance with the gym teacher to provide some kind of good example that they didn’t really need. She was an extremely qualified dancer and not even Nathaniel Plimpton could make her look like an idiot.

“So, no,” he smirked down at her.

How dare he use his superior height to look down on her?

“Lucky for you, I’ve been doing ballroom for years,” Nathaniel clasped her hand gently in his and laid his other hand on the small of her back.

Following is almost automatic, placing her arm over his so that she is gently grasping his shoulder. She learned proper posture at a very young age, and she’s been watching princesses dance since she could remember.

Wait, what? Nathaniel Plimpton, douche of the highest degree has been doing ballroom for years?

“What?” she finally responded.

“You guys are doing really well so far,” Mr. Wilson seemed more than a little surprised.

Mr. Wilson and Mr. Whitefeather were in the exact same position, and they were both clearly a lot more affected by it than she was - or Nathaniel, because his posture was still ramrod straight. He almost looked like the perfectly polished prince he was supposed to be, only he was a little too… stiff.

“Let’s try a few steps,” Mr. Wilson continued.

Could Josh dance like this, she wondered. Perhaps it was possible to suggest him as a practice partner - or at least she could use that excuse with Josh. She’d love to dance with him like this, or even closer than this.

“Don’t forget the proper distance,” Mr. Whitefeather reminded them. “I know you youngsters like to get close, but there has to be room for the dress.”

Yes, she would actually get to wear a ballgown - just like she’d always dreamed of wearing ever since she was a little girl. Her mother would never let her wear the traditional princess costumes, instead forcing her to play act as businesswomen. Sure, she understood the feminist leanings, but princesses were not inherently less feminist.

If only her mother understood that.

“It’s huge,” Mr. Wilson was almost dismissive. “Ridiculously huge.”

All this time, she was still touching Nathaniel, but the second anyone remarked on the distance, Nathaniel moved back another inch. Clearly, he couldn’t wait to get away from her even now.

Screw him - she didn’t like him either, but at least she could be professional about the whole situation. She’d much rather be with Josh.

“Bunch,” Nathaniel rudely drew her from her daydreams.

“What?”

“Would you mind actually looking at the steps Mr. Whitefeather is showing you?” Plimpton sounded physically pained. “Not just for my feet’s sake.”

Oh right, now that she wasn’t thinking about Josh, she realized that because she kept moving in the wrong direction, she and Nathaniel kept bumping into each other. Her breasts smushed into his chest, him looking down at her with blazing eyes…

Wow, she really needed to dance with Josh some time. Nathaniel was great practice.

Copying Mr. Whitefeather’s steps was kind of easy. She had a natural gift for moving in time with the count of the waltz, plus she wasn’t nearly as into her partner as her teacher was. How obvious could a man get?

“Remember, this is their first meeting,” Mr. Whitefeather was more than a little flustered. “This is all about that first spark, the chemistry between these two characters.”

And that’s where the acting came in - she had no interest in Nathaniel, and he seemed just about ready to bust out the disinfectant. He tensed every single time she broke form and his eyes were on the horizon somewhere.

They were supposed to be selling romance. Not that Nathaniel Plimpton would know the meaning of that word.

“Alright, on to the next part,” Mr. Whitefeather was the only happy person present. “Miss Bunch, I’m sure you’ve seen every version of Pride and Prejudice? This is a lot like those dances.”

Finally, Nathaniel gets his much needed distance. He actually started breathing easier the second it became clear the next part involved touching with one arm only. They were to press their hands together, with a slightly increasing distance to the elbow down. And then it was just turns back and forth to switch arms.

Very minimal contact, just Nathaniel’s style when it came to her. Not when it came to every “hot” girl at the school, because he would be all over them.

Wow, that almost made it sound like she wanted Nathaniel to touch her. To speak in the words of the immortal icon Cher Horowitz: as if!

Nathaniel Plimpton was no Josh Chan, even though he was definitely being the Mr. Darcy to her Elizabeth Bennet at this point.

What? Every girl had a Pride and Prejudice fantasy at some point - and she’d have it again in her bed tonight while she thought of a more suitable mister Darcy. Josh wasn’t really the brooding type, but that’s why they were called fantasies.

“We’ll work on the transitions later,” Mr. Whitefeather was barely looking at them now, too busy focusing on Mr. Wilson’s arms. “This is just to see which patterns work for me… work for you.”

So obvious, Mr. Whitefeather. So very obvious.

“Right,” Mr. Wilson coughed and took a step back. “There’s a few more moves to try out.”

Like the ones he clearly wanted to try out with Mr. Whitefeather. Honestly, she was pretty sure that the interest was mutual, but they just weren’t acting on it.

Oh - side project! Now that she and Josh were going to live happily ever after, she might as well enlist Paula’s help with matchmaking for another couple. Paula was scary good at getting people together - or keeping them apart if she deemed it necessary.

“This one is a little bit closer,” Mr. Wilson continued, “but it’s right from the Broadway show, so it’s probably pretty appropriate for a formal ball.”

Instead of leading by example- Mr. Whitefeather looked really disappointed - Mr. Wilson guided their hands into the correct positions. Both Nathaniel and herself had an arm wrapped around the other’s waist, pressing their bodies rather closely together. Or at least, really pressing her boobs into his arm while they took a turn around the floor.

Nathaniel had tensed up again, just from her hand on his waist and them almost being in each other’s personal space. How could she work with this?

“Just a little while longer before you can get the disinfectant,” she hissed at him, trying to keep the teachers from overhearing.

“You’re missing the point, Bunch,” Nathaniel still wasn’t looking at her, jaw clenched.

This part was supposed to look like they were flying, like they moved together effortlessly. And sure, this was only the first dance rehearsal, but this was like pulling her body through quicksand, heavy and slow and syrupy.

But somehow it wasn’t entirely bad. Weird.

“Next position, Mr. Wilson,” Nathaniel’s voice seemed more gravelly now.

They’d stopped spinning - although it didn’t really feel like that - and Nathaniel had stepped back. What was up with him?

“So, this will be like a dip,” Mr. Wilson instructed, equally eager to get this over with. “Basic ballroom pose, then move both your arms around her waist, Mr. Plimpton. Miss Bunch, you will be leaning back in his hold.”

Even now, when they were supposed to be standing closer than ever, he was holding back, every muscle in his body resisting her presence in his personal space. For someone who got laid basically all the time, the guy was just really freaking tense.

And when he was supposed to be holding her considerable weight, as he’d remarked on several times now, she did not need him to be stiffer than the Tin Man. Sure, he needed to stand strong, but in a way that spoke of fluidity, of grace, of romance.

This was a pure fight or flight response, and flight was definitely winning.

“You can pull her a bit closer, Mr. Plimpton,” Mr. Wilson eyed them carefully.

Suddenly every bit of distance between the two of them was gone. The tension in his muscles was still there, and she figured that the only way to go here was to trust him with this tiny bit.

Trusting a man - yeah, this was going to be impossible.

And then he looked her in the eyes, finally, those blue eyes screaming fear. When he saw the fear returned in hers - he must have seen it - he softened.

“I’ve got you,” he mouthed.

His hands were warm, burning through her shirt, but she just kept looking into his eyes as she slowly gave herself over to him, putting herself in his hands until she no longer had to hold up her own weight.

It was terrifying and exhilarating, and somehow safe.

Nathaniel Plimpton was an elitist asshole, but he was not going to drop her. So she relaxed in his grip, and tried not to think about how she was basically pushing her boobs up in the direction of his face.

He was trying not to look, occasionally sneaking guilty glances at her chest but then quickly returning to look in her eyes.

She was warm all over, heating up even quicker when she started to feel something insistently pressing against her thigh. It became almost impossible not to blush, and her wide eyes found his immediately.

“Excellent job, you two,” Mr. Whitefeather broke the silence.

That made Nathaniel break eye contact, slowly but surely pulling her into a regular standing position - except this meant that they were standing so closely pressed against each other that she could feel exactly how big his… interest was.

Big was an understatement - she’d suspect him of padding but there was no way to get away with that when she was pressed up against every inch of him.

“Is that the time?” Nathaniel almost ran out of the room.

She was left with a pounding heart and a heaving chest, and a hankering to go see Josh. If this was what it was like with someone she hated, it had to be even better with the love of her life.

Right?

AN: This ship has watered my crops and cleared my skin. Let me know what you think!!

#rebecca x nathaniel #rethaniel #otp: can't be with cedric if you're already with ron #my stories #crazy ex girlfriend fanfiction

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chicagoindiecritics · 5 years ago

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New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: MOVIE REVIEW: Little Women

(Image: vanityfair.com)

LITTLE WOMEN— 5 STARS

Not to borrow out of context from George Harrison’s Beatles lyrics, but, when it comes to Greta Gerwig as the director of Little Women, there is something in the way she moves. Scene after scene in the adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved classic penned by her own hand, there is an enchanting manner by which the ensemble is allowed to carry on, as it were. For every segment where a performer is hitting a mark of precision to deliver their speech, there are four or five others where Alexandre Desplat’s sumptuous score will rise, mute the conversation, and lead the audience to simply watch. The characters commiserate and move freely within their relationships and surroundings. We too then live and become absorbed in the beauty of those moments.

The endearing brilliance of Little Women is earned in those quaint sways and movements as much as, if not more than, it is by its crests of high drama. With masterful leadership and bold thematic choices applied to well-worn ideals, Greta Gerwig continuously captures an uncanny vibrancy out of a literary setting that otherwise would be frozen in stagnant despair. Every fiber and morsel of this movie swells with this sense of spirit to embed radiance in resiliency.

The titular Chatty Cathys are the four March sisters of the 1860s at different coming-of-age stages. The two youngest, Beth (newcomer Eliza Scanlan of Babyteeth) and Amy (rising star Florence Pugh), look up to their older two sisters, Jo (three-time Academy Award nominee Saoirse Ronan) and Meg (the now nearly-30 Emma Watson) with shifting notes of reverence and jealousy. With a short-sighted “tired of being poor” feeling, all four lament living within their reduced New England means during the American Civil War. The family’s pastor patriarch (Bob Odenkirk) has been away for years with little contact while his dauntless wife Marmee (Laura Dern) cares for the rapidly maturing girls.

The Marchs are not alone with the tough times. With a shared “I know what it is to want,” they are in a place to tighten their skirts and give to help a poor and struggling single mother nearby. At the same time, they are supported from above by their huffy elder aunt (a perfect feisty Meryl Streep, well within her element) and the wealthy Laurence family next door comprised of Mr. Laurence (the kindly Oscar winner Chris Cooper) and his nonconformist son Theodore (Call Me By Your Name’s Timothée Chalamet). With an alluring young man like “Laurie,” as he is called, nearby, affections grow and hearts swoon.

Swinging the chronological narrative pendulum to and fro, the plight of the March family is being remembered in episodic portions by Jo. She has moved away years later to New York City with the uphill aspirations of becoming a published writer for the discerning editor Mr. Dashwood (Tracy Letts, with the right amount of curmudgeon). Jo is enterprising and determined to be taken seriously.

LESSON #1: GIRLS HAVE TO GO OUT INTO THE WORLD — Independence is highly valued and celebrated with “love my liberty” in Little Women. For our central guide Jo, fond reflection forms the confidence that her own story is compelling sort that will inspire others. Despite what society deems suitable and how they are kept from property and prosperity, women are fit for more than love and marriage. They deserve to play out their ambitions. Along the same lines, Alcott’s novel itself presents a great passage on wealth that is echoed in the film in its own way:

“Money is a needful and precious thing, — and, when well used, a noble thing, — but I never want you to think it is the first or only prize to strive for. I’d rather see you poor men’s wives, if you were happy, beloved, contented than queens on thrones, without self-respect and peace.”

LESSON #2: NEIGHBORS HELPING NEIGHBORS — In many wonderful displays, these are noble and generous people who care to hear and tread in the stories and needs of others despite their personal wants. Furthermore, respectfully knowing the arduous realities present keeps them from being truly ungrateful for what they have. That level of empathy will remain in them into their own families. When rewarded, their own pulled-up bootstraps will transform how “pretty things deserve to be enjoyed.”

LESSON #3: TO PINE, OH WHAT IT IS TO PINE — Nevertheless, even with a giving heart, the longing for deeper wants is hard to truly curb. We have multiple characters in this melodrama that pine for love, marriage, position, dreams, or freedom within their unfortunate and trying situations. The definition of “pine” reads “to yearn intensely and persistently especially for something unattainable” followed by “to lose vigor, health, or flesh.” So much of Little Women, is this languishing pursuit towards personal and emotional fulfillment.

LESSON #4: THE STRENGTH OF FAMILIAL LOVE — To borrow this time from the Greeks and a dollop of The Bible instead of the Fab Four, the level of “storge” love in this saga is exquisite. When family is in need, the annoyances and competitiveness of these sisters go away and bonds are renewed. As they say in the dialogue, “life is too short to be angry at sisters.” Once again, thanks to Gerwig’s tonal choices, you see it, plain as day, in the way the cast in character interacts. The emotional wreckage that results is incredibly genuine.

The performances of this exceptional cast make this journey of pining sacrifices and kindred challenges palpable. Saoirse Ronan accomplishes the quick wit and stubborn strength of the lead role without making it a Katharine Hepburn imitation. Timothée Chalamet uses his smiling charm at full wattage where his piercing gaze and strong words can convey soulfulness under the rude, edgy, and volatile arrogance of his romantic catalyst. Laura Dern flips the privileged acid of her Marriage Story lawyer role to play uncompromising earnestness here with complete and utter grace. Lastly and hugely, Florence Pugh is the spinal cord to Ronan’s backbone. She makes the nerves and savage passion of her tug-of-war middle daughter position stunning.

More and more, there is a pep here higher in this eighth adaptation of Alcott’s novel compared to its predecessors. Springing its winter steps, this Little Women strolls rather than plods. French Cinematographer Yorick Le Saux (Personal Shopper, A Bigger Splash) captures the textured array of period ambiance created by production designer and veteran Coen brothers collaborator Jess Gonchor. Le Saux’s framing choices are absolutely perfect and the slow-motion occasionally employed to freeze time in happy, blissful moments adds even more impact to its ravishing cinematic layers.

LESSON #5: A WOMAN’S TOUCH IN ALL THINGS — This task to recreate Little Women for the 21st century landed in the right hands, namely HER hands. Greta Gerwig’s elevated her work from Lady Bird in sweeping, grander fashion without losing any of her keen and insightful voice for humanistic commentary. To have this epic tale of powerful gender-driven truths that still resonate in the present day move with such whimsy and gumption is extraordinary and important.

And there’s the best word of all: important. The timelessness of Little Women matters. Gerwig matches the dreams of Alcott’s quote stating “Writing doesn’t confirm importance, it reflects it.” Her stewardship and screenplay deserves every compliment that can be paid. She brings forth the full vigor possible of this story and now owns the poignant love it expresses as much as Alcott.

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