WE know it when we see it: an exquisitely timed cover drive sending the cricket ball hurtling towards the boundary; Michael Jordan, airborne, spinning with the basketball; Roger Federer, on or off the tennis court. We know it equally on the big screen. ‘One of the chief qualities that made Sean [Connery] such a big star in those early James Bonds was his movement,’ said TV director Philip Saville. ‘His hand movement, his agility; he was an altogether organic man. It’s a very important quality if you’re making action movies. Steve McQueen had it, he had the natural sense of forward movement and all his body co-ordinated. Sean had it in spades.’
Beautiful movement is easier to admire than to achieve. As we mature, the rigours of professional life tend to favour our intellects. Although many of us may claim to incorporate physical exploits into our weekly routines, the realities of a political work environment, not to mention wider social mores, mean that much of our physical expression is suppressed. Indeed, in most corporate settings, we’re more likely to be rewarded for a ‘poker face’. All of which is a shame, because expressive movement can be a blessing at any age.
Sir Sean was an unlikely initial match for Bond. He auditioned wearing a lumber jacket, yet he was observed leaving the producers’ Mayfair office, crossing South Audley Street, ‘like a big jungle cat,’ remarked one of them, Harry Saltzman. The actor was light on his feet, given his 6ft 2in frame. ‘The difference with this guy is the difference between a still photo and film,’ said co-producer Cubby Broccoli. ‘When he starts to move, he comes alive.’
Denne historien er fra November 04, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra November 04, 2020-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.