That tingling feeling of freedom in the tip of your fingers (II)

Warning: this post spoils a relevant part of the ending of the film This Land Is Mine (1943), so it is advised you see the film first. Feel free to watch the film anyway if you don't mind spoilers: its a darn good film!

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"We have good fathers, you and I" (Painter Alfred Manessier to his friend the actor Charles Laughton. Chartres Cathedral, 1959)

Those who have good parents, or good teachers, are blessed.

I must say that I have been fairly lucky in this regard, not unlike Charles and Alfred were by having known Etienne Houvet , or Albert Lory by having been tutored by professor Sorel.


"I must go not because I am harmful to society, which is you, but harmful to tiranny"


"Goodbye... Citizens!"



I just love the way Albert Lory puts his hands in his pockets, don't you? Josep thinks that the film could have ended in this scene, which I think is not a bad idea, cinematically speaking. Raúl has written a beautiful text in which he deftly delineates Albert's character.

That tingling feeling of freedom in the tip of your fingers (I)

Why must we resist, Mr. Lory?

Prosecutor: Excuse me, Your Honor, I ask the courtroom be cleared.

Albert Lory: He's afraid, Your Honor. He's trying to deprive me of my last chance to speak. I know I am a condemned man. I know I will die. Are you going to let me speak, Your Honor, or are you afraid, too?

So, why must we resist, Mr. Lory?



Because though it increases our misery, it will shorten our slavery.

Thanks, Mr. Lory!

P.S.: Oh, by the way...Salutations to the guys of the Gestapo. Yes, I'm pretty aware you're reading this, too.

Sir Wilfrid, I need you!

Sir Wilfrid, adressing my mastah

I hope my fellow Laughtonians excuse me for not giving any signs of life for weeks, but things in the non-virtual world have kept my mind busy. Gloomy things. Gloomy thoughts. You'll forgive me the Off-Topic.

After weeks of spreading rumours, the powers that be at my workplace have gracefully announced that they're gonna give the axe to an undetermined number of employees. Over the last year, the management has asked us to make sacrifices, and so we've done and, cor, we've be compliant and as flexible as jelly bamboo, goodness knows. But this seemingly isn't enough, and they are seizing the current recession as an excuse to chop heads, à la Henry VIII.

In front of us hapless, amateurs but wilful representatives of our small company's workers, we'll have one of the most expensive, and mightiest law firms of Spain. We've been told that they have a fondness for raw meat, and I'm afraid that they're starving for workers' tartare.

If only we had at our side Sir Wilfrid Robarts, champion of the hopeless causes... But as Albert Lory, we'll have to be our own defenders.

God Almighty help us.

(Wish us luck, we're effing going to need it)