In praise of Paul Brodrick and Toby Laurence

I happened to hear Freddy’s scene this evening and I thought it was really rather good - well-written, well-delivered, an excellent portrait of a young man who’s slipped the apron-strings and got properly out into the Great Big World for the first time… and found that he rather liked it.

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It did sound like someone who has finally got a chance to get away from under his mother’s … well, what is the word? Elizabeth is the worst possible mother for someone of seventeen, and her “no” when he asked whether he had any say in it was a classic of her style: domineering autocratic pain.

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She used to the character I most disliked - “me, me, me”. It’s not that I like her any better now - just that others have caught up.

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Ohh, I do like that way of putting it, ftc

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