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Pop Culture

Emma Thompson's witty, heartfelt tribute to Alan Rickman is one for the ages

May we all have a friend who shares our quirks this lovingly and articulately.

Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman starred in seven films together.

Actor Alan Rickman gave us so many memorable characters, from the terrorist Hans Gruber in "Die Hard" to the evil hero Severus Snape in "Harry Potter" to the unfaithful husband who broke Emma Thompson's heart in "Love Actually."

Though he was often cast as a villain, Rickman's distinctive voice and irresistable screen presence made audiences love him. He brought a unique human touch even to his most odious bad guy characters, a quality that makes perfect sense when you hear Thompson, his friend and co-star in seven films, talk about his character in real life.

In a moving tribute upon the release of his diaries, Thompson shared insights into the virtues and quirks that made Rickman "blissfully contradictory."

Thompson is at the top of her award-winning writer game here, and her words about Alan Rickman are filled with heart, wit, respect, admiration and love. It's truly a eulogy for the ages.

Watch (or read the full transcript below):

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

People love Thompson's tribute to her friend and some have even shared their own stories of their encounters with Alan Rickman:

"A close friend of mine bumped into him in a theatre in London many years ago. My friend instantly recognised Mr Rickman and from nowhere, instantly found the courage to ask him for his autograph. Having neither pen nor paper for this, he asked Mr Rickman if he would mind waiting a moment whilst he collected the items from somewhere, anywhere! The moment became at least 10 minutes or so, and when my friend ran back to a now empty theatre foyer, he noticed one solitary figure. Mr Rickman had waited patiently for my friend to give him what he asked for."

"I was lucky enough to work with him on a film. At lunchtime I joined the line for a meal and as I payed and went to turn to look for a table, someone knocked into me from behind and my drink went flying. I turned and it was Alan, he apologized put his hand on my shoulder and said let me get you another. He came back with a cup of tea and I was so overwhelmed. I was shocked how he was so down to earth and a real gentleman."

"I meet him once in Boots and said hello, he realised it was a reflex to recognising a known face. He picked up an item we both were looking at, smiled and said “well hello there are we going to arm wrestle for this?” That deep tone rendered me mute, I realised it was Mr Rickman and instantly denied needing this forgotten thing, apologised for well nothing really, smiled and backed away. He was a giant of a fellow on and off the stage and will be missed."

"Everything she said is true. I was fortunate to have dinner with him and his wife and his drama teacher. He was charming and friendly and shared some great ideas about directing, which I use today in my theater group. He is missed by many."

Indeed he is.

Here's the full transcript of Thompson's tribute:

"The most remarkable thing about the first days after Alan died was the number of actors, poets, musicians, playwrights and directors who wanted to express their gratitude for all the help he'd given them. I don't think I know anyone in this business who has championed more aspiring artists nor unerringly perceived so many great ones before they became great. Quite a number said, latterly, that they'd been too shy to thank him personally. They had found it hard to approach him. And of all the contradictions in my blissfully contradictory friend (hold on, Thompson), this is perhaps the greatest this combination of profoundly nurturing and imperturbably distant.

He was not, of course, distant. He was alarmingly present at all times the inscrutability was partly a protective shield. If anyone did approach him with anything like gratitude or even just a question, they would be greeted with a depth of sweetness that no one who didn't know him could even guess at. And he was not, of course, unflappable. I could flap him like nobody's business and when I did he was fierce with me and it did me no end of good.

He was generous and challenging, dangerous and comical, sexy and androgynous, virile and peculiar, temperamental and languid, fastidious and casual, the list could go on. I'm sure you can add to it. There was something of the sage about him, and had he had more confidence and been at all corruptible, he could probably have started his own religion.

His taste in all things from sausages to furnishings appeared to me anyway to be impeccable. His generosity of spirit was unsurpassed and he had so much time for people I used to wonder if he ever slept or ever got time for himself. A word not traditionally associated with Alan is gleeful, but when he was genuinely amused he was absolutely the essence of glee. There would be a holding back as the moment built, and then a sudden leaning forward and a swinging around of the torso as a vast, impish grin flowered, sometimes accompanied by an inarticulate shout of laughter. It was almost as if he was surprised by himself. It was my life's mission to provide those moments. I remember Imelda Staunton nearly killing him by telling him a story about my mother and an unfortunate incident with some hashish—it's a really good story, I won't tell it now—I've never seen him laugh more before or since. It was a bit like watching someone tickling the Sphinx.

One Christmas Eve party I had a sprig of mistletoe hanging up at home, and I was loitering under it and turned to find Alan bearing down on me. I lifted up my chin hopefully. He smiled and approached. I puckered. He leaned in under the mistletoe and a sudden change came over his face. His eyes started to glitter and his nostrils to quiver. He lifted up a hand, reached in, and pulled a longish hair out of my chin. 'Ow!' I said. 'That's an incipient beard,' he said, handing me the hair and walking off.

That was the thing about Alan—you never knew if you were going to be kissed or unsettled, but you couldn't wait to see what would come next. And the trouble with death is that there is no next. There's only what was, and for that, I am profoundly and heartbrokenly grateful. So the last thing we did together was change a plug on a standard lamp in his hospital room. The task went the same way as everything we have ever done together. I had a go. He told me to try something else. I tried. It didn't work, so he had a go. I got impatient. I took it from him. I tried it again. It still wasn't right. We both got slightly irritable, then he patiently took it all apart again and got the right lead into the right hole. I screwed it in with a screwdriver. We complained about how fiddly it was, and then we had a cup of tea. Took us at least half an hour, this thing, and he said after, 'Well it's a good thing I decided not to become an electrician.'

I'm still heartbroken that Alan's gone, but these diaries bring back so much of what I remember of him. There is that sweetness I mentioned, his generosity, his champion of others, his fierce, critical eye, his intelligence, his humor. He was the ultimate ally in life, art, and politics. I trusted him absolutely. He was, above all things, a rare and unique human being and we shall not see his like again."

Joy

There are over 30 years between these amazing before-and-after photos.

"It's important for me for my photography to make people smile."

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

Before and after photos separated by 30 years.


Chris Porsz was tired of studying sociology.

As a university student in the 1970s, he found the talk of economics and statistics completely mind-numbing. So instead, he says, he roamed the streets of his hometown of Peterborough, England, with a camera in hand, snapping pictures of the people he met and listening to their stories. To him, it was a far better way to understand the world.

He always looked for the most eccentric people he could find, anyone who stood out from the crowd. Sometimes he'd snap a single picture of that person and walk away. Other times he'd have lengthy conversations with these strangers.


But eventually, life moved on and so did he. He fell out of love with photography. "Those pictures collected dust for 25 years," he says.

Then, a few years ago, Porsz found those 30- to 40-year-old photos and sent them to be printed in his local newspaper.

Peterborough, reunions, Chris Porsz

Chris Porsz and his camera.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

And remarkably, people started recognizing much younger versions of themselves in his shots. "There was this lightbulb moment," he says of the first time someone wrote to him about one of his photos.

Eventually, he became curious about the people he'd photographed all those years ago, and he decided he'd try to find some of them. It wouldn't be easy — the photos were taken a long time ago, and Porsz didn't have names or contact information for many of the people in them.

But he did find some of them, sometimes in extraordinary ways. "Some were absolute million-to-one coincidences," he says.

Like the time he went out on a call (he's a parademic these days) at 3 a.m., and the man he was there to treat recognized him as the photographer who'd snapped his picture all those years ago. On another call, he asked a local shopkeeper if he recognized any of the subjects in the photos. He did.

Once Porsz began posting about the project online — he calls it "Reunions" — it became easier and easier to reconnect with his former subjects.

Many were eager to recreate the old shots as best they could, like Layla Gordon, who Porsz originally photographed drinking milk in 1983.

time, memories, photos

The child version drinking milk.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

milk, history, project

The adult enjoys milk too.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

Others groups, like these schoolgirls, had fallen out of touch. "Reunions," fittingly enough, brought them back together.

schoolgirls, pose, soul mate

Schoolgirls pose for a photo.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

best friends, intimate, confidant

The adult versions find time for a group photo.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

Porsz says that his subjects, like this wild-haired couple, were strangers to him 30 years ago. Now he considers many of them friends.

punk rock, narrative, archive

Pink colored hair and mohawks.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

record, story, account

The color has moved to the sleeves.

All photos by Chris Porsz/REX/Shutterstock.

In all, Porsz has collected over 130 before-and-afters in his new book.

The response to Porsz's work has been more than he ever imagined.

He's personally heard from people all over the world who've been inspired by his project and want to try to recreate it themselves. But beyond that, he just hopes it brings a little warmth and happiness to the people who see it.

"It's important for me for my photography to make people smile," he says. "Because there is so much sadness in the world."

And while the project is finished for now, don't count out the possibility of "Reunions Part 2" somewhere down the line.

"I'd love to meet these guys in 2046 when I'm 94 years old," Porsz says.


This article originally appeared on 11.30.16

@labor_junkie_rn/TikTok

The bathroom is always a safe space for the chaos of womanhood.

Nights out with girlfriends become precious after becoming a mom. But certain aspects of motherhood—like lactation—don’t always get the “off-duty” memo.

Just ask this group of friends, who just so happen to be labor and delivery nurses, what happened when they tried to hit the town and realized two moms in their group forgot their breast pumps.

Besides a doctor-prescribed pain medication, the only way to really deal with the painful, throbbing sensation of breast engorgement is to express, or release the milk. Though that milk ideally goes into a baby’s mouth or breast pump…sometimes you gotta improvise.


And that’s exactly what we see in a viral video posted in March by @Labor_Junkie_RN, which is basically an educational video and hilarious glimpse of motherhood all rolled into one.

In the clip, the onscreen text reads: “POV: you forgot your breast pump on moms’ night out…but you’re all labor and delivery nurses.” The camera quickly cuts to two women dressed in gorgeous night out attire…all while hysterically giggling and hovering over the sink to express their milk down the drain.

In case anyone is wondering, the woman filming the whole thing assures viewers that “Yes, we rinsed the sink. Yes, I’m an overproducer. Yes, I (normally) donate,” in the caption.

@labor_junkie_rn yes we rinsed the sink😘 yes i’m an overpoducer. yes, i (normally) donate 😘 #ftm #pregnant #baby ♬ Funny Song - Funny Song Studio & Sounds Reel & Thomas Hewitt Jones

But rather than any finger wagging, the video actually got a ton of positive responses.

“I’m loving how this is a group activity,” one viewer wrote.

Another said, “I can feel the relief of those sprays.”

Many reminisced about their own breast pump emergency that forced them to get creative.

“I did that in Vegas on my first kid-free vacation. We got there at 11pm and the Target didn’t open until 8am. I hand expressed in the bathroom stall into toilet paper.”

“Forgot my pump for a wedding and had to hand express into the toilet during dinner time.”

“I once DoorDashed a manual pump to the venue I was at.”

Plus it became a teaching moment for some. One person wrote “OK, but still super educational! Because I didn’t realize it went in all different directions.” While another echoed, “not me, pregnant, thinking there was just one milk hole………”

There’s that funny meme that comes to mind with this story—one you’ve undoubtedly seen once or twice—that says “girlhood is a spectrum.” In our 20s, the women’s bathroom is a place where girlfriends congregate to gas each other up, fix each other’s makeup, maybe even help hold back the hair of the friend who drank too much. While certain elements might change, like swapping out the expelling alcohol for expressing breast milk, the important stuff remains the same.

In essence: the women’s bathroom will forever remain a place where girlfriends look out for one another and share a laugh as they navigate womanhood together.

Parenting

Parents now know exactly how to talk to their childless friends thanks to one woman's advice

Rule #1: "I know that most of you think you are not talking about your kids. Cut that back 80%."

@circulargurl/TikTok

she makes some good points

While people who choose to be child-free are completely happy for their friends who do have kids, the difference in lifestyles and priorities can start to cause riffs in many otherwise strong friendships.

A lot of the dissonance can come from the fact that, understandably, being a parent is a major part of someone’s identity. It’s not just about being bombarded with baby pictures, but the way 99% of conversations and activities steer towards things kid-related that is alienating and aggravating.

Thai is what prompted a gal who goes by @circulargurl on TikTok to create a video sharing her list of things parents should not be doing around their child-free friends. And while the video did ruffle some feathers, it brought up some interesting things to consider.


First off in her “rules of decorum”: not hijacking the conversation to talk about the kids, which she assured happens way more often than parents think it does.

I know that most of you think you are not talking about your kids. Cut that back 80%,” she said. “I can guarantee you you're talking about your children most of the conversation. And while we want to hear about your kids ... we don't have children so, we really can't relate so it's a very one-sided conversation.”

Similarly for rule #2: no “logistics.”

For this she gave an example, saying “This summer, when talking with my friends with kids, the amount of conversations I heard which are especially one-sided are about your logistics of getting your kids to activities, summer camps, all of that.”

Why is this a no no? A) It’s “boring.” And B) again, it’s “one-sided.”



Next, she asked parents (or people in a partnered relationship, for that matter) to refrain from asking their kid-free or unpartnered friends about their dating life. For one thing, she says that “the dating landscape has changed greatly, and it's a bloodbath,” since COVID, and might be a touchy subject. But even still, romance might not might not be the “center” of their ambitions at the moment. Instead, try to “explore other topics.”

This woman also has a rule that if a child-free friend is visiting from out of town, please do not take them to a kid’s birthday party as an activity. And she seemed to feel strongly about this, saying “it's rude, frankly ... you then put us into a situation where we're with a bunch of other parents and other kids, and we don't identify with that at all. And it's not a place where adult conversation can be had. It's not interesting.”

“We're generally trapped because if we're visiting you from out of town, we're then trapped at the location you brought us to with a bunch of kids and parents we don't know, you know, all talking about our topic, we don't necessarily have an interest in.”

As far as bowing out of plans, the OP added a rule prohibiting using the excuse of “‘My husband won't let me” to cancel, something that a “staggering amount” of her friends have done, apparently.

While she understands that things come up, her use is the “off-putting” phrasing, since “there's something in it that makes it seem like spending time with you is something that they have to somehow come to an agreement on because it's not important.”

But to that point, she begged for parents to “please, please, please” to do their best to come to their kid free friends events.

“Please, please, please, come to our events — our birthdays, our career milestone celebrations. Those are our events. We didn't have a wedding. We didn't have an engagement party. We didn't have a bridal shower. We didn't have a baby shower. We didn't have any of that. If we have an event, it's just as important as those, and if you don't make it, that is an insult.”

And for those who truly can’t come, an actual “check-in” from time to tiem works wonders.

“If you have a friend who lives alone and you go months without checking in with them, it's just not, it's not okay. People who are unpartnered and don't have kids are often sent an inordinate amount of time alone. I don't know what you think they're doing, but they're alone a lot of the time. It can be very isolating. So, please, please, please make a habit of checking in with them, and don't expect them to always check in with you.”

Last, but certainly not least, the OP encourages parents to not make offhanded comments expressing jealousy.

“Don't be envious of the time you think we have…don't be envious of our career advances…we all make our choices. The best way to lose adult friends is to be envious of them. And I see that happening with so much tension happening between ... very successful single child-free women and their mother friends who take a few years to slow down in their careers…it's something we don't talk about enough and we all need to get a little bit more comfortable with it. Not to say mothers cannot be very, very successful, very, very successful, but they're there. You can't have everything all at the same time.”

And that’s that. Eight rules for parents who want to keep their child-free friends in mind.

The video certainly resonated with other child-fre folks who often felt isolated during interactions with their mom friends. One viewer stated “this is such an important topic to talk about + conversation to have. Couples have been prioritized, celebrated + centered for so long. Adults who tackle life alone need validation, respect + support.”

Still, though it goes without saying, so much of this boils down to what makes any friendship work—respecting boundaries, being aware of personal interests, making an effort to stay in touch, etc. As one person put it, “these are all great as long as it’s a two way street and the single/childless friends are also asking how the parents and kids are doing and show interest in their children. It should be reciprocal IMO.”

Maintaining adult friendships is hard. Period. But they are oh so important. So while this set of rules might not be the end-all-be-all for everyone, it’s certainly a conversation worth having…and could end up proving helpful for parents looking to hold onto a bit of themselves that has nothing to do with being a parent (also very important).