![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'd never even heard of this film when ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glitzfrau texted me late yesteday afternoon to say that she and biascut were going to see it that evening at the Cottage Road cinema, and did I want to come along? But I'm glad I went, because it was great fun.
Set on the eve of the Second World War, it's a bit like a female version of Jeeves and Wooster, right down to the slashy sub-text. The only difference is that the Jeeves-figure (Miss Pettigrew) is merely pretending to be an accomplished social secretary - but still does a great job of getting the Bertie-figure (Delysia Lafosse) out of all sorts of terrible scrapes all the same. Oh, and they both end up forging meaningful heterosexual relationships at the end - which very carefully never happens in Jeeves and Wooster!
There's all the humour and costume rompery of J&W, too, including some extremely beautiful bias-cut gowns, and an apartment which reminded me so strongly of some of the designer boudoirs featured in this book that it felt like stepping inside its lavishly-illustrated pages. Also, Shirley Henderson (Ursula in Who's 'Love and Monsters' and Moaning Myrtle in the HP films) and Ciarán Hinds (Julius Caesar, yo!). And the Bechdel test is an easy pass, since most of the film revolves around a female-female relationship - and although they certainly talk about men plenty, they do talk about frocks and parties and their own career paths, too. All in all, much to be recommended.
Afterwards, we headed back to my place and invented our own cocktail - vodka, Cointreau, pomegranate and blueberry juice and a dash of lime - which we named the Miss Pettigrew in honour of the film, and then stayed up late chatting and giggling. Then, under the influence of said cocktail, it seemed like a good idea to clamber up dangerous steps and across rotting wooden platforms in the pitch dark, to get huge wardrobe boxes out of the shed and send them home with Glitzy and La Bias in a taxi.
How'm I supposed to manage when they both move over to Manchester, eh?
glitzfrau texted me late yesteday afternoon to say that she and biascut were going to see it that evening at the Cottage Road cinema, and did I want to come along? But I'm glad I went, because it was great fun.Set on the eve of the Second World War, it's a bit like a female version of Jeeves and Wooster, right down to the slashy sub-text. The only difference is that the Jeeves-figure (Miss Pettigrew) is merely pretending to be an accomplished social secretary - but still does a great job of getting the Bertie-figure (Delysia Lafosse) out of all sorts of terrible scrapes all the same. Oh, and they both end up forging meaningful heterosexual relationships at the end - which very carefully never happens in Jeeves and Wooster!
There's all the humour and costume rompery of J&W, too, including some extremely beautiful bias-cut gowns, and an apartment which reminded me so strongly of some of the designer boudoirs featured in this book that it felt like stepping inside its lavishly-illustrated pages. Also, Shirley Henderson (Ursula in Who's 'Love and Monsters' and Moaning Myrtle in the HP films) and Ciarán Hinds (Julius Caesar, yo!). And the Bechdel test is an easy pass, since most of the film revolves around a female-female relationship - and although they certainly talk about men plenty, they do talk about frocks and parties and their own career paths, too. All in all, much to be recommended.
Afterwards, we headed back to my place and invented our own cocktail - vodka, Cointreau, pomegranate and blueberry juice and a dash of lime - which we named the Miss Pettigrew in honour of the film, and then stayed up late chatting and giggling. Then, under the influence of said cocktail, it seemed like a good idea to clamber up dangerous steps and across rotting wooden platforms in the pitch dark, to get huge wardrobe boxes out of the shed and send them home with Glitzy and La Bias in a taxi.
How'm I supposed to manage when they both move over to Manchester, eh?
