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ladymirthFlist, Americans, Countrypersons. Lend me your screens.
Once there was a girl who watched the Pilot of House, decided that the eponymous character was too much of a cynical, self-satisfied bastard to bother with, and wrote the whole show off lock, stock and actor. The fact that her peers were indulging in disturbing porn fantasies about this man who was probably of her grandfather's generation, and who possessed no discernable sex appeal unless you were also a masochistic leather-daddy-lovin' Severus Snape groupie, grated on her nerves enough to make her discount reports of his considerable acting prowess. This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his show was in close competition with her own favourite Show for being one of the best character dramas on TV, and yet continued to get more recognition and publicity than her Show could ever hope for. Bitter? Jealous? What juvenile notions are these? Discard them immediately! And incidentally, Hugh Laurie? Pfft!
This, you will be nauseated to learn, is the tale of her redemption.
Let us establish a seeming non-sequitur first. P. G. Wodehouse is the funniest writer the English-speaking world has yet produced. While Adams and Pratchett are indubitably as gods in their own realms, the fact of Wodehouse's absolute dominion over the craft of Farce is a truth more irrefutable than 42.
And yet, once upon an insanity, somebody had the strangest idea to bring Wodehouse to television. Now, such an idea makes me tremble, because you know, an undertaking of that magnitude requires a talent as specific and unique that There Can Be Only One in the world who could do the material proper justice. Imagine a world where say, Fatty Bolger were given the task of RIng Bearer rather than Frodo Baggins. Or Stan Shunpike were marked by Voldemort as his equal rather than Harry Potter. So you see, the fate of an entire creation was at stake here.
But these were the Brits, y'all, and the BBC. I have great faith in the BBC. The British, despite their curious penchant for treating their Royal Family like newest trend in iPhones, regard their writers as Srz Bznz, as long as said writers don't sell out their creations to Americans. (I'm looking at you, Mrs. Rowling.) Coming on the heels of mini-series' like Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot and Pride and Prejudice, I am assured that the British good sense extends also to the art of film-making. It's enough to make a body feel proud of having been colonized by them for 150 years*.
So, who was to be the Peter Jackson to Wodehouse's middle-earth?
Apparently, the droids they were looking for came in the form of Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry, in their resoundingly successful television adaptation of Jeeves. Now, I have worshipped at the altar of Jeeves ever since I read Code of the Woosters in Grade 9, and anybody who had the balls to embody that Sherlock Holmes of Valets has my vote in the bag. I suppose I did spare a thought of appreciation for the actor of Bertie, but Stephen Fry had a second claim to my affections by reason of being the narrator of the Harry Potter audio books. Coupled with the fact that I never got to see the Jeeves and Wooster adaptation for myself, and my obsession with the Man Who Played Jeeves, I completely forgot that the second half of the inimitable duo was none other than Hugh Laurie, who played the endearing, predicament-prone, good natured, epitome of upper-class British yuppie-hood, Bertram Wooster.
That is right. I, a devout follower of Wodehouse, forgot what Hugh Laurie should have meant to me. Clearly, several Hail Marys are in order.
I suppose that makes me as much of a flaming ignoramous as the casting director of House, who reportedly was so convinced by Laurie's American accent and impressed by his audition that he singled him out to be "real example of an American actor".
Which brings me back to the "point at tissue". Thanks tomrsmosley, it was brought to my attention that yes, Jesus Wodehouse yet lives, only nowadays they call him Hugh Laurie, for some strange reason.
Hugh Laurie - Wodehouse Saved My Life.
Clearly, in my Supernatural-blinkered haze, I have sinned. Therefore, I must set about the following Path to Redemption.
1. Stuff my reservations about anybody being able to execute the line "Tinkerty Tonk" with any kind of grace and hunt up the BBC adaptation of Jeeves and Wooster.
2. See what other richness hath spewed from this man's pen.
3. Download and watch House.
4. Fangirl Laurie while petitioning him to give up acting and write more, especially now that Pterry has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. (prays for the Pterrry) Your nation needs you, Hugh!
In conclusion: Brits, FTW!
*le sigh*
I think that's enough hyperbole fangirling for one post. *g*
* I am a prime example of the fact that the residual effects of the Stockholm Syndrome affects entire nations.
Once there was a girl who watched the Pilot of House, decided that the eponymous character was too much of a cynical, self-satisfied bastard to bother with, and wrote the whole show off lock, stock and actor. The fact that her peers were indulging in disturbing porn fantasies about this man who was probably of her grandfather's generation, and who possessed no discernable sex appeal unless you were also a masochistic leather-daddy-lovin' Severus Snape groupie, grated on her nerves enough to make her discount reports of his considerable acting prowess. This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his show was in close competition with her own favourite Show for being one of the best character dramas on TV, and yet continued to get more recognition and publicity than her Show could ever hope for. Bitter? Jealous? What juvenile notions are these? Discard them immediately! And incidentally, Hugh Laurie? Pfft!
This, you will be nauseated to learn, is the tale of her redemption.
Let us establish a seeming non-sequitur first. P. G. Wodehouse is the funniest writer the English-speaking world has yet produced. While Adams and Pratchett are indubitably as gods in their own realms, the fact of Wodehouse's absolute dominion over the craft of Farce is a truth more irrefutable than 42.
And yet, once upon an insanity, somebody had the strangest idea to bring Wodehouse to television. Now, such an idea makes me tremble, because you know, an undertaking of that magnitude requires a talent as specific and unique that There Can Be Only One in the world who could do the material proper justice. Imagine a world where say, Fatty Bolger were given the task of RIng Bearer rather than Frodo Baggins. Or Stan Shunpike were marked by Voldemort as his equal rather than Harry Potter. So you see, the fate of an entire creation was at stake here.
But these were the Brits, y'all, and the BBC. I have great faith in the BBC. The British, despite their curious penchant for treating their Royal Family like newest trend in iPhones, regard their writers as Srz Bznz, as long as said writers don't sell out their creations to Americans. (I'm looking at you, Mrs. Rowling.) Coming on the heels of mini-series' like Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot and Pride and Prejudice, I am assured that the British good sense extends also to the art of film-making. It's enough to make a body feel proud of having been colonized by them for 150 years*.
So, who was to be the Peter Jackson to Wodehouse's middle-earth?
Apparently, the droids they were looking for came in the form of Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry, in their resoundingly successful television adaptation of Jeeves. Now, I have worshipped at the altar of Jeeves ever since I read Code of the Woosters in Grade 9, and anybody who had the balls to embody that Sherlock Holmes of Valets has my vote in the bag. I suppose I did spare a thought of appreciation for the actor of Bertie, but Stephen Fry had a second claim to my affections by reason of being the narrator of the Harry Potter audio books. Coupled with the fact that I never got to see the Jeeves and Wooster adaptation for myself, and my obsession with the Man Who Played Jeeves, I completely forgot that the second half of the inimitable duo was none other than Hugh Laurie, who played the endearing, predicament-prone, good natured, epitome of upper-class British yuppie-hood, Bertram Wooster.
That is right. I, a devout follower of Wodehouse, forgot what Hugh Laurie should have meant to me. Clearly, several Hail Marys are in order.
I suppose that makes me as much of a flaming ignoramous as the casting director of House, who reportedly was so convinced by Laurie's American accent and impressed by his audition that he singled him out to be "real example of an American actor".
Which brings me back to the "point at tissue". Thanks to
mrsmosley, it was brought to my attention that yes, Hugh Laurie - Wodehouse Saved My Life.
Clearly, in my Supernatural-blinkered haze, I have sinned. Therefore, I must set about the following Path to Redemption.
1. Stuff my reservations about anybody being able to execute the line "Tinkerty Tonk" with any kind of grace and hunt up the BBC adaptation of Jeeves and Wooster.
2. See what other richness hath spewed from this man's pen.
3. Download and watch House.
4. Fangirl Laurie while petitioning him to give up acting and write more, especially now that Pterry has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. (prays for the Pterrry) Your nation needs you, Hugh!
In conclusion: Brits, FTW!
*le sigh*
I think that's enough hyperbole fangirling for one post. *g*
* I am a prime example of the fact that the residual effects of the Stockholm Syndrome affects entire nations.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-04 12:40 pm (UTC)Oh no no no. Do not go comparing the two of them. Hugh Laurie is blond, blue-eyed hotness. (ETA: The sexy facial hair helps, too.)
Looks exactly like my ex, only about thirty years older.See ya,
Anna.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-04 04:46 pm (UTC)Although I find Alan Rickman a lot sexier than Laurie. I love Hugh Laurie for his mind. *g*
I didn't know you had a paid account, Anna. I wish I could get one too!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-04 05:47 pm (UTC)guess you know who this is by now. anyway.... didn't get much of what was going on though (i'm sleep deprived, sue me) but boy am i gonna make you eat your words :)
kisses babe. he he he.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-04 11:54 pm (UTC)I will not get into the debate of which one is sexier
because it's so obvious it's Hugh.See ya,
Anna.
*waves*
Date: 2008-01-06 12:43 am (UTC)*giggles* No wonder I love House so much. It all becomes clear now...