#Rebecca Wayne

[simscici]

Finally kicked off the Grim Reaper event and invited my loyal sidekick, Rebecca! (the girl in my profile picture and pinned post) let's go for another adventure, Becca 🩷

[smallcloisville]

1. How to get Superman's attention? Throw Lois Lane off the roof.

2. How to clear Superman's mind if he's under a spell? Throw Lois Lane off the roof.

3. How to- THROW LOIS LANE OFF THE ROOF!

Bonus :

[unpopularwiththepopulace]

Propelled chiefly by last year’s London production, I have written a (rather) long form piece to do with Rebecca the Musical. Though focusing mainly on this eventual and heavily expectant premiere of the English production of the musical, discussion relates also to the original and other iterations of the show, and musicals more generally, too.

The piece is anchored by the central theme of insatiability while looking in turn at:

the process of tracing the evasive histories of character representations and theatrical productions over many decades – including also flickered and largely forgotten records of the play and opera forms of Rebecca, and the “apparitional”, equivocal lens that queer female sexuality is handled with across large spans of time

decoding evidence of sparse, if periodically rather dire, female queerness in theatrical, musical contexts – guided by the disciples of dykeish dissatisfaction in the musical’s character of Mrs Danvers or the story’s primary author of Daphne du Maurier herself

considering what it means to exist as an audience member responding in situ to (principally female) performers with thrilling voices, both in and outside an auditorium, and the delicate but frequently under-discussed predicament of queer female diva devotion.

Take a look if you're interested!

In further expansion of photographic documentation of each of the examined stage-based, theatrical iterations of Rebecca, more images are presented below.

Discussion originates from the existence of the 2023 English premiere production of Rebecca the Musical at the Charing Cross Theatre in London, where cast principals included Kara Lane as Mrs Danvers (alternated by Melanie Bright), Lauren Jones as I (the new Mrs de Winter), and Richard Carson as Maxim. Photos by myself.

The first stage production of Rebecca arose much earlier, concerning the 1939 play by the same name at the Queen’s Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue (now The Sondheim Theatre). Daphne du Maurier herself wrote its script. Margaret Rutherford played Mrs Danvers, Celia Johnson was the new Mrs de Winter, Owen Nares appeared as Maxim. The Queen’s Theatre was bombed in 1940 during WWII at the time of Rebecca’s occupancy, becoming the first theatre in London to be hit by a wartime bomb, and bringing to an immediate premature close the show’s successful run - and highlighting earlier associations of this story's connection to tumultuous tales and dramatic events in histories of it's staging, as the attempted primary stagings of the English musical iteration would later return to.

Photos from this first theatrical, London production include those by Angus McBean from a periodical spread entitled ‘Mystery and Murder in Stately Cornish Home - Dramatic Moments of Du Maurier’s “Rebecca.”’, published in The Sketch (vol. 190), May 1940.

The play also then appeared on the road in America, and subsequently on Broadway in 1945 at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre for a fleeting 20 performances; and of this entity, record remains even more scarce. Cast principals included: Florence Reed (Mrs Danvers), Diana Barrymore (the new Mrs de Winter), Bramwell Fletcher (Maxim).

The next and last distinct adaptation of Rebecca to appear on stage before the musical was the 1983 opera production devised for Opera North, with music by Wilfred Josephs and libretto by Edward Marsh. It toured the UK before being revived briefly in 1988 and never seen again. Cast principals included: Ann Howard as Mrs Danvers, with Gillian Sullivan and later Anne Williams-King as the new Mrs de Winter, and Peter Knapp as Maxim.

Finding these few, historic photographs in obscure newspapers or consulting original scripts and librettos, for instance, in libraries and archives during this effortful and active treasure-hunting felt special and rewarding. But possible reconstruction of these stage iterations in the present day is only incompletely possible, because of reduced ease of access to or apparent remaining visceral evidence of a visceral art form.

The frustration in trying to seek out these apparitional traces not only foregrounds the importance of maintaining accessible, comprehensive primary records within the theatre, but mirrors also the act of trying to seek out records of queer female sexuality across history in works of literature, cinema or theatre, as a process typified by a similarly effortful navigation of apparitional erasure. This facet connects with the notion that consideration around Rebecca entangles with a web of insatiability or dykeish dissatisfaction, a web that stretches from this erasure and liminality of representation, to character constructions within the work – including of its infamous housekeeper, Mrs Danvers, to contextual backgrounds like those of the story’s primary author itself, Daphne du Maurier.

The entity of Rebecca, then, across its many themes, productions and decades, is uniquely useful in the way it can in turn encompass and facilitate explorations of these many facets – being capable of simultaneously holding consideration of these expansive webs of documentation, erasure or dykeish dissatisfaction that can be found lurking in historical margins, as well as also the contrasting luminous energy that can be produced in the present in association with the musical, as physical audiences interact with and respond to the material of the show and its performers within theatres in real time. These considerations have transferrable applicability beyond this singular context of this particular show to more general notions of theatrical pieces and the practice of theatregoing, too, as they foreground the question of how audience members respond to, process, and interact with shows; and, as a matter of far less common discussion or scholarly writing on the subject of diva devotion, how female fans specifically navigate the complex predicament of queer, female, performance-driven high regard.

[riality-check]

Contrary to what her felon of a husband started telling her when the honeymoon phase of their relationship ended, Rebecca Munson is not a stupid bitch.

Well, she’s definitely a bitch, but she ain’t stupid. She’s made bad choices - letting herself get pressured into a shotgun wedding at sixteen to a man five years her senior, havin’ a baby at seventeen at home because she couldn’t afford a hospital, and too many failed attempts at sobriety to count don’t look too good on paper - but she ain’t stupid.

She knew the second that the cops came to their house at two in the damn morning to pick up John that he wasn’t comin’ back. She decided then, after ten G-d awful years of living with him, that she wasn’t comin’ back either.

Her family was across state lines and didn’t much like her since the wedding. But Wayne was two towns over and said to her, over and over again, that his door was always open.

(One Fourth of July, probably when Eddie was six or so, before John realized he wasn’t going to have a little football-loving clone and still humored him by playing tag, Wayne was a few beers in and told Rebecca, point blank, that she deserved to be doing so much better.

“But he’s your brother,” she said, pointedly not looking at the can in Wayne’s hand. It was her first try at staying away from that stuff, and she lasted a full two weeks until her next fight with John.

“That’s how I know you could be doin’ better than him,” Wayne said, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re a good woman, Becca. He ain’t a good man.”

Sometimes, she wondered what her life would be like if she listened to him then, if she didn’t need an arrest warrant to convince her of what she knew, deep in her soul, the second she said “I do.”)

So, that’s where she’s standing now. In front of Wayne’s door, hand poised to knock, Eddie at her side with his headphones on and music cranked loud.

“It’s fuckin’ freezin’,” she murmurs before knocking lightly.

“It’s August, Ma,” Eddie says. Not meanly, but not nicely either. He just says it.

Rebecca almost misses when he was little and tried to warm her up by rubbing his baby palms up and down her arms. She doesn’t miss when he had to call an ambulance for her. She definitely misses when he used to call her “Mama.”

She knocks again. Waits. Tries not to shiver because Wayne will know what that means, and she can’t take pity or rage right now.

She’s fucking trying. This is her trying, this is her quitting, this is her, hopefully, staying sober. 

She doesn’t have John, shitty as he was, to fall back on anymore. Eddie needs her, all of her, so she needs to stay present.

The door opens a crack, then fully. Wayne stands there in his pajamas, sipping on a mug of coffee, looking surprised but not quite.

“John got arrested,” Rebecca says.

Eddie just nods, picks up his bag, and walks right on inside.

Wayne raises his eyebrows. “You know what for?”

“Second degree murder.”

“Jesus H. Christ.”

“And I ain’t payin’ for a lawyer for his sorry ass, so he’ll get some court-appointed schmuck, get sent to hell, and hopefully stay there,” she says brightly.

Wayne snorts and holds the door open for her.

His trailer is small, but they make it work. Eddie gets the bedroom, a notion which he puts up a losing fight to, Rebecca takes a cot they set up in the living room, and Wayne takes the couch. She offers to alternate nights with him, but he waves her off and says it’s fine, it’s comfy enough.

If Wayne liked women (Christmas, 1971, spiked eggnog heavy on the spiked all responsible for her knowing that bit of information) she should’ve married him instead.

He tells her, spotting old track marks and the tooth she lost last winter, that she better not bring any of that shit into the house.

It helps, though maybe not as much as it should. It means she has to rely more on chain-smoking cigarettes and drinking the beer Wayne likes than the variety of harder shit she’s been on and off of since she was seventeen.

Once again, fuck you John Munson.

It doesn’t quell the itch. The first few weeks at Wayne’s are hellish, between the sweats and the shaking and the dry heaving.

But all she has to do is look over at the door to Eddie’s room and remind herself that if she fucks up the same way she’s fucked up countless times throughout her boy’s life, then he has no one.

It’s just barely enough. She’s still drinking way more than she should, enough to not remember when or where she falls asleep, but it’s the longest she’s been off crank, so. Small wins.

She gets a job waitressing at the diner next door to the barber and across the street from the hardware store. It pays alright, and the farmers and miners tip her better if she leaves the first two buttons of her blouse undone.

Men.

Eddie ain’t doin’ much better. The kids at his school are mean sons of bitches, the kind that yank on his hair - he’s always liked it long, and Rebecca really doesn’t give a shit what it looks like as long as it’s clean - and slap his things out of his hands and make fun of the books he reads.

But he’s angry at the world, and he doesn’t take shit from anybody. They leave him alone soon enough, after a couple of fights Rebecca doesn’t blame him for getting into. Between the time he bit a boy’s shoulder after he punched Eddie and called him a fag, and the rumors about his music making him a Satanist - ridiculous, it’s just noise - they give him a wide berth.

He says it’s fine, but Rebecca knows. That boy thrives bein’ around people. Loneliness could kill him straight out.

It’s Wayne who keeps him alive. They fight like hell those first few weeks, the worst of it being when Eddie throws the salt shaker at him and screams about him not being his father.

There’s a new shaker, filled up to the brim, on the table the next day. She checks Eddie’s piggy bank while he’s at school and finds it, predictably, empty.

He’s a good kid. G-d knows if she was in his situation, she’d be angry, too.

Wayne tries to be involved. Tries talking about sports and hunting and other things Eddie doesn’t give a rat’s ass about. When Eddie goes on about the books he reads and the games he plays, Wayne’s face just goes blank.

In the end, it’s the music that does it. Rebecca spends weeks smoking and drinking and walking on eggshells only to find Wayne and Eddie on the couch, hunched over an acoustic guitar and listening to Johnny Cash.

She breathes a sigh of relief.

It’s better after that. There are fewer fights. The trailer is filled with music more often than not. Eddie makes friends.

And, after about a year and a half, Rebecca starts lookin’ to leave.

She’d love to stay here, but she can’t. Wayne was kind enough to take her in, but there ain’t no way in hell she and Eddie can stay forever. It’s time for them to get their own place, to get out of Wayne’s hair, to make a real, permanent life somewhere.

She looks around town, but there aren’t many places to rent, and the ones that can be rented are too expensive for her.

Eddie has been begging for her to let him go get a job, but she keeps putting her foot down. He didn’t get to be a kid when he was one, not with him always taking care of her and taking care to stay out of his father’s way, so he gets to be one now.

She owes him that much and more. So much more.

After a few months, she finds it. It’s a little ad in the paper, so small she almost missed it.

Honey Haven. Five miles outside Hawkins, Indiana. A newly planned, family-friendly community. All are welcome!

The number next to “prices as low as” catches her attention. She dials the phone number, and the sweetest lady picks up, patiently answering all her questions.

It sounds too good to be true. Rebecca tells the lady as much, and she, without hesitation, offers a no strings attached visit.

So, she figures, What the hell?

Part 1, part 2

[ozs-twink-boytoy]

Me, reading the Ending of Road to Injustice: He tries to hug the dictator out of being a fascist? Wait, that's not Tom Taylor, that's Rebecca Sugar with a fake beard!

[egoismt]

OH MY GOD the showrunner Chad who built these Lego scenes saw my fanvid and liked it! Ah ah ah let me scream for a moment... A highlight of my year!!

我的天啊！搭建這些樂高場景的本劇主創 Chad 看到了我的粉絲視頻而且喜歡它！啊啊啊啊讓我尖叫一下...今年的大亮點！！

[come-along-pond]

OC PRIDE MONTH CHALLENGE 2023. week three: LGBTQIA+ artists. day twenty-one - june 21st.

My LGBTQIA+ OCS + Halsey's 'Badlands' Album. Halsey identifies as bisexual and uses she/they pronouns! 'And there's an old man sitting on a throne That's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean'

Unfortunately guys there is only so many weeks in a month, and therefore we’ve dropped AU week (although look out for a special edition of it in the valentines challenge of this year), but we are keeping our favourite LGBTQIA+ artists around! You know the drill, promote your favs with an edit/drabble to one of their songs or poems!

taglist: @witchofinterest​ @veetlegeuse @arrthurpendragon @sentineljedi @stanshollaand @foxesandmagic @edshopper @eddiemunscns @carmens-garden @dancingsunflowers-ocs @raith-way @ginevrastilinski @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl @cecexwrites @bravelittleflower

Send an ask/message if you wish to be added or removed!

[moviesandmania]

IT BE AN EVIL MOON (2023) Reviews of British werewolf horror

‘A werewolf road movie’ It Be An Evil Moon is a 2023 British horror film about a disgraced scientist who develops a hair growth formula derived from pickled wolfsbane. Written, directed and co-produced by Ben Etchells. Also produced by Rebecca Matthews. The Medusa Media production stars Ian Ray-White, Wayne Dobson, Rod Glenn, Gordon Joseph Millar, Lesley Sim, Rita Limão, Sue Moore, Chelsea Grace,…

[fromthestacks]

Werewolves Within

[sweetcitrusboi]

Y’all think Rebecca ordered the Talon to take out Bruce bc she knew him and Harvey were banging on his office desk???

[simscici]

She has her own strategies for making offerings…

We were at home, and she was enjoying some time in the pool. Since I was too impatient to wait for the invitation to the Ambrosia Society, I tried to go make an offering, but she didn’t change her clothes, and I just left it as it was lol.

[kwebtv]

Fiona Reynard, Gene Foad, Suanne Braun, Simon Lewis, Brad Gorton, Claudia Christian, Wayne Pilbeam, Stephanie Jory, Rebecca Nichols, Rachel Grant, Jeremy Bulloch and Jason Bailey in “Starhyke”

[mochatheangelkiller]

"Long life is a GIFT, Harvey. One I'm prepared to offer you"

Says the 100+ year old woman who is both Bruce Wayne's Great Grandmother and his ex-lovers best friends girlfriend

[demisexualnathanvuornos]

A Thousand Little Cuts (2022)[28.5.2024] trailer 2/ 2 Written and Directed by Joshua Brandon

[anxi04]

tim meeting lex at a gala when he’s young. he knows lex is a villain but he’s also the only vaguely smart person there and he has a look of disgust every time someone says anything remotely dumb, which tim relates to SO much.

meanwhile lex seeing this kid who is so clearly going to be a supervillain when he grows older and quite honestly this child scares him a little. so he indulges him just enough to be on his good side. lex just about has a heart attack when tim off handedly mentions one of lex’s very secret, only 6 people know about it and 5 of them are hidden away and can’t see their family because of what they know, project.

every time they see each other at a gala there’s just a sense of “oh thank god someone smart is here” and spend half the time politely shit talking the idiots

cut to 17 yo tim drake (never aging again) and he just. shows up in lexs house one day like “give me the blessing to marry kon and i’ll tell you the absolutely groundbreaking gossip i just found out about rebecca” he gets his blessing without lex even questioning it. he knows tim drake is red robin anyway who else would be able to? he is a little disappointed he went the hero route but out of all heroes red robin is closest to becoming a supervillain anyway so it’s fine

lex however does not know any of the other batfams identity. brucie wayne is a fucking idiot who can’t tie his shoes (lex watches him stuff the laces in his shoes once) dick grayson is a Cop(negative), jason todd is dead, stephanie brown is the daughter of a villain and would probably want to be as far away from that life as possible, damian wayne he could buy as robin but there’s no way anyone biologically related to brucie could be even remotely competent, duke thomas seems too normal, and he can find nothing on cass wayne except she seems too sweet. besides tim’s competent enough to hide his identity from his family. especially the wayne family.