"Audrey Hepburn couldn’t act. She was also “twee” and she couldn’t sing. How do I know? Because Emma Thompson says so, with the modest implication that she can; which has to be how she knows. Well, acting is a sly activity; if you think you’re doing it brilliantly, you’re probably doing it obviously. Lawrence Olivier always despised movie actors until he tried to become one.Audrey was never an actress in Miss Thompson’s acid-drop class. She was a lot more than that. You came, you saw her and you were conquered. “Tread softly,” W.B. Yeats wrote, “because you tread on my dreams.” Audrey remains one of mine."
I admire Emma Thompson, but she's dead wrong about Audrey Hepburn. (The "twee" charge, complete with a schoolmarmish explanation, especially grated.) I think Mr. Raphael's tone could be a little less snotty, but he knew her personally, having directed "Two for the Road." And, in any event, he's right. That reminds me: this is the second time this week I've heard "Two for the Road" come up, the other time being Maureen Dowd's equally impassioned column. I've always heard good things about the movie, and the lead is a young Albert Finney--one of the greatest British actors still going--so I will add it to my queue.
But the article? A powerful brief for an extraordinary actress, but more, on a real star. And more than either, an avatar from an era we are still reeling from the loss of, where stars walked the earth, full-blooded.
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