At the same time, it was unimaginable for a Mexican actress to aspire to a place in Hollywood. In the 14 years that I stumbled from schoolgirl to Mexican soap star to an extra in a few American films to catching a couple of lucky breaks in “Desperado” and “Fools Rush In,” Harvey Weinstein had become the wizard of a new wave of cinema that took original content into the mainstream. I am inspired by those who had the courage to speak out, especially in a society that elected a president who has been accused of sexual harassment and assault by more than a dozen women and whom we have all heard make a statement about how a man in power can do anything he wants to women. We are finally becoming conscious of a vice that has been socially accepted and has insulted and humiliated millions of girls like me, for in every woman there is a girl. I felt that by now nobody would care about my pain - maybe this was an effect of the many times I was told, especially by Harvey, that I was nobody.
When so many women came forward to describe what Harvey had done to them, I had to confront my cowardice and humbly accept that my story, as important as it was to me, was nothing but a drop in an ocean of sorrow and confusion. I had been proud of my capacity for forgiveness, but the mere fact that I was ashamed to describe the details of what I had forgiven made me wonder if that chapter of my life had really been resolved. And why, for so many years, we have been cordial to a man who hurt me so deeply. In reality, I was trying to save myself the challenge of explaining several things to my loved ones: Why, when I had casually mentioned that I had been bullied like many others by Harvey, I had excluded a couple of details. I didn’t consider my voice important, nor did I think it would make a difference. I had brainwashed myself into thinking that it was over and that I had survived I hid from the responsibility to speak out with the excuse that enough people were already involved in shining a light on my monster. No one in the play feels known to us, and you end up wishing for more substance to match the production’s ample style.This fall, I was approached by reporters, through different sources, including my dear friend Ashley Judd, to speak about an episode in my life that, although painful, I thought I had made peace with. Some of the performances are halting or wooden, so we do not believe in the connections between these characters. We are let into Ed’s mind during matches – he describes how he feels while playing a game, and there are tiny, tantalising emotional insights in these moments, such as the fact that he wished to be injured as a child in order to get more attention. Ed’s father (also Mackay) occasionally appears, but is shadowy. A physiotherapist (Mackay, doubling up) gives Ed a mental health assessment but this part of the story goes nowhere. He says he fell down the stairs but Charlie suspects he is lying and tells the team, which seems clunky and unconvincing given they are best friends. The main plotline involves Ed’s apparently broken leg. Characters are flimsy, and the choreography brings pace and visual effects but gets in the way of the story’s development. This conveys the brute energy of the sport, with scrum formations and men charging into each other.īut as important as its subject matter is, especially given high male suicide rates in recent years, Lewis Aaron Wood’s script doesn’t quite fly. Staged just short of a rugby match at 70 minutes, there are artful scenes in which characters run across AstroTurf while Eliza Willmott’s excellent sound design sets their movement against drum’n’bass and electronica.
Under Daniel Blake’s direction, the production effectively dramatises the adrenaline charge of the sport and its physical dangers.
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