Mary Helen Wood

I’ve tried to recall when I first saw this show, but I can’t pin it down, because I saw it in black and white. What I do remember is that it haunted me -if ‘haunt’ is the right word. As I watch it again I’m sure that it didn’t haunt me, it imprinted itself upon me. I was going to describe it as a meditation, a walking meditation on the nature of flesh and the flesh of our nature. But I would be wrong, because it seems to be about -well everything. One thing it makes clear is that when it’s time to go, you might as well get on with it. Another thing it makes clear is that Old Ned wants to take everyone right along with him — but no one wants to go. (...and the score is perfectly awful...so misconceived it’s actually comical...Everything else, however, is almost perfect. I’m going to keep THE SWIMMER, but I’ll watch it sparingly; I don’t want to assimilate it. What I really mean is that I don’t want to appropriate it.