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📷 X/Gordon Morris @Gordonpmorris
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A few choice extracts...
“My Budapest hotel room neighbour was Anthony Flanagan, who played John Morfin, and because we spent so much time together on set, we became good friends and would spend a lot of time wandering around together taking in the sights.
“I also remember getting an invite to Tobias Menzies’ birthday party in Budapest and thinking how much my life had changed, as Fintry used to be my cut off point for parties!”
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“It was a joy watching Paul Ready play [Goodsir] so compassionately and I loved sharing scenes with him. When you’re playing very emotional roles, you try to break out and have fun between takes to keep yourself sane.
We had a lot of fun between takes. For instance, the costume department would come around and take photos of you for continuity, then the next morning you would have a photo left in your trailer so you could make sure everything was exactly as it was the day before.
One morning I went into my trailer and looked at my continuity photo and Paul was standing in the background making a very rude gesture towards me!”
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“I was invited to a private screening of the first three episodes in London and after helping a very lost Tobias Menzies to find the venue, I sat down and watched the show. Within the first 10 minutes I knew it would be a hit: the writing, the direction, the music, the cinematography, the acting – everything about it was brilliant!”
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Gordon said he has never encountered such a passionate fandom, which he described as being an array of “extremely talented, knowledgeable and just plain lovely people”.
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weirdlookindog · 6 months
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Beginning of the End (1957)
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dance-world · 1 year
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Joseph Gordon - New York City Ballet - photo by Marcus Morris
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Portraits of Jane Morris · II of II
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This picture is one of the most remarkable in the series, especially the two prints that are preserved in the Victoria and Albert album. Mrs. Morris is posed outdoors against the backdrop of a billowing canopy, with her hands clasped at her midriff. She is turned facing the camera, though she looks away to the right. The other V&A print [image # 3] is cropped down from the original negative, as is the Birmingham copy. The modern prints shows the composition of the original negative and is far... [ . . . ]
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Jane Morris standing, in marquee. The older V&A print (1865)
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gbveryspecialguests · 6 months
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Lizzy: Ok! We got Madame Doom! Now we have to find the others.
Matt: They could be scattered around Horrorland! If we only we have a shortcut…
Sam: Hm? Miss Lizzy? Why is your pocket glowing?
Lizzy: Huh?
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Lizzy: Wait - This is one of the pocket horrors we got back then! How is it still here? And why is it glowing?
Ray: Strange - When we have them, they look like figurines - And they definitely don’t have that red drawing there!
Lizzy: Looks like.. A sigil?
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Ray: Just why is it glowing like that?
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Ray: Oh.. Because of this portal…
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AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!
OOFPH!
Matt: Crud - Are you kids ok?
Ray and Sam: Yeah…
Lizzy: Ugh… Wait - I see Robby! And Carly Beth and Sheena!
Ray: And there’s Marco! And Jessica!
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Robby: GUYS?! WAIT - THE OOZE!
Matt: Huh?! Yeah, I know you’re a fan -
Robby: NO! I MEAN - WATCH OUT!
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Matt and Lizzy: Oohhhh… Shittake Mushrooms.
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screamscenepodcast · 1 year
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Buzz buzz, here comes THE WASP WOMAN (1959) from Roger Corman himself! The film stars Susan Cabot, Michael Mark, Fred Eisley, Barboura Morris and William Roerick.
We discuss wasp facts, the history of cosmetics, and Susan Cabot's sad biography in this episode, so there's plenty to chew on.
Thanks for your patience in our delays getting this episode ready, I think it was worth the wait!
Context setting 00:00; Synopsis 26:32; Discussion 43:57; Ranking 1:04:30
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heartlandtfln · 10 months
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“(440):
Made up a full house drinking game
(216): On my way.“
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transparentdreamruins · 3 months
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From a new interview with Gordon Morris (John Weekes):
Dr Potter was so impressed that he is now in discussions with The Terror creator, David Kajganich, about putting together an audio CD that would include other key cast members alongside Gordon reading from the letters of the characters they portrayed.
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moviesandmania · 2 years
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THE SHE-CREATURE (1956) Reviews of hypno-regression horror - free to watch online
THE SHE-CREATURE (1956) Reviews of hypno-regression horror – free to watch online
‘It can and did happen! Based on authentic facts you’ve been reading about!’ The She-Creature is a 1956 American horror film about a hypnotist who reverts his female assistant back into a prehistoric sea monster. Directed by Edward L. Cahn (The Four Skulls of Jonathan Drake; Curse of the Faceless Man; It! The Terror from Beyond Space; Invasion of the Saucer Men; Zombies of Mora Tau; Voodoo Woman;…
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abs0luteb4stard · 2 years
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W A T C H I N G
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Portraits of Jane Morris · part I
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John R. Parsons :: Jane Morris, née Burden, posed by Rossetti, 1865. Albumen print from wet collodion-on-glass negative | V&A museum
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All images in this post are from: Album of Portraits of Mrs. William Morris (Jane Burden) Posed by Rossetti, 1865. Composed by Gordon Bottomly in 1933
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This book is an album of photographic prints that were made from photographs shot by John Parsons under Rossetti's directions. All the photos seem to have been shot on 7th June 1865 at Rossetti's house on Cheyne Walk.
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This portrait is closely related to another picture in the Jane Morris series of photographs: the picture is virtually the mirror image of image # 2 in this post, where Mrs. Morris faces right in much the same pose. | text adapted from Rossetti Archive
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gbveryspecialguests · 6 months
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Ma’am?….. Hey! Hey…….. Wake up!
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Ugh….. Where?
Lizzy: Wait — You two….
Ray Gordon? Sam Waters?
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Ray: Oh good! You know us! Help!
Sam: Who are you? H-how?
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Lizzy: Long story, but where are the others? Are you kids hurt?? Where are we?!
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…..
Oh no….
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synchronicobject · 5 months
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The Message of the March Wind by William Morris Illuminated by Gordon Forsyth (1879-1952) Gifted from the artist to artist Gwladys M. Rodgers of Pilkington's Royal Lancastrian Pottery.
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Fair now is the springtide, now earth lies beholding With the eyes of a lover, the face of the sun; Long lasteth the daylight, and hope is enfolding The green-growing acres with increase begun.
Now sweet, sweet it is through the land to be straying ’Mid the birds and the blossoms and the beasts of the field; Love mingles with love, and no evil is weighing On thy heart or mine, where all sorrow is healed.
From township to township, o’er down and by tillage Fair, far have we wandered and long was the day; But now cometh eve at the end of the village, Where over the grey wall the church riseth grey.
There is wind in the twilight; in the white road before us The straw from the ox-yard is blowing about; The moon’s rim is rising, a star glitters o’er us, And the vane on the spire-top is swinging in doubt.
Down there dips the highway, toward the bridge crossing over The brook that runs on to the Thames and the sea. Draw closer, my sweet, we are lover and lover; This eve art thou given to gladness and me.
Shall we be glad always? Come closer and hearken: Three fields further on, as they told me down there, When the young moon has set, if the March sky should darken We might see from the hill-top the great city’s glare.
Hark, the wind in the elm-boughs! from London it bloweth, And telleth of gold, and of hope and unrest; Of power that helps not; of wisdom that knoweth, But teacheth not aught of the worst and the best.
Of the rich men it telleth, and strange is the story How they have, and they hanker, and grip far and wide; And they live and they die, and the earth and its glory Has been but a burden they scarce might abide.
Hark! the March wind again of a people is telling; Of the life that they live there, so haggard and grim, That if we and our love amidst them had been dwelling My fondness had faltered, thy beauty grown dim.
This land we have loved in our love and our leisure For them hangs in heaven, high out of their reach; The wide hills o’er the sea-plain for them have no pleasure, The grey homes of their fathers no story to teach.
The singers have sung and the builders have builded, The painters have fashioned their tales of delight; For what and for whom hath the world’s book been gilded, When all is for these but the blackness of night?
How long, and for what is their patience abiding? How oft and how oft shall their story be told, While the hope that none seeketh in darkness is hiding, And in grief and in sorrow the world groweth old?
Come back to the inn, love, and the lights and the fire, And the fiddler’s old tune and the shuffling of feet; For there in a while shall be rest and desire, And there shall the morrow’s uprising be sweet.
Yet, love, as we wend, the wind bloweth behind us, And beareth the last tale it telleth to-night, How here in the spring-tide the message shall find us; For the hope that none seeketh is coming to light.
Like the seed of midwinter, unheeded, unperished, Like the autumn-sown wheat ’neath the snow lying green, Like the love that o’ertook us, unawares and uncherished, Like the babe ’neath thy girdle that groweth unseen;
So the hope of the people now buddeth and groweth, Rest fadeth before it, and blindness and fear; It biddeth us learn all the wisdom it knoweth; It hath found us and held us, and biddeth us hear:
For it beareth the message: “Rise up on the morrow And go on your ways toward the doubt and the strife; Join hope to our hope and blend sorrow with sorrow, And seek for men’s love in the short days of life.”
But lo, the old inn, and the lights, and the fire, And the fiddler’s old tune and the shuffling of feet; Soon for us shall be quiet and rest and desire, And to-morrow’s uprising to deeds shall be sweet."
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