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ellie_mellie 's review for:
Fleabag: Scriptures
by Phoebe Waller-Bridge
(I just cried uncontrollably for half an hour over the acknowledgements at the end. Phoebe, I love you dearly.)
I loved the show, so I wanted to read the script, as well, for research and inspiration on screenwriting. Needless to say, I love its unique and playful tempo, all the cuts, flashbacks and funny, satirical little remarks. This show captures like none else the ironies of our modern society, the awkward tension and chaos of an unhealthy family, the quality of good banter, the weight of being (and, especially, of being seen and wanting to be seen, but avoiding your own "sight") and just what it means to be a woman in this day and age and how much rage and guilt and want and grief a single person can hold.
It is the story of a ghost, a woman whose name we don't ever learn because she doesn't perceive herself as her own person. It is about her navigating a grief so deep she cannot even think about, so she buries it down deep, hiding behind her mask of humour, of superficiality, of vulgarity, of irony. It is about her coping in her own way, about her being an observer, analysing each character (SUCH good characters, so well-rounded, so real and diverse and truly funny because we can all name similar people in our own lives) and admitting her own faults with pure, raw honesty.
It is terribly harsh and raw most of the time, until it is not. Until we get a sweet moment between Fleabag and Claire, or until we get to season 2 and the hopeless romantic in each one of us comes out of hibernation. It is a love story of a ghost-woman who falls in love (although she thought it impossible) with a kind man who should only adore another ghost and who chooses the latter, but not until the ghost-woman learns how to not be a ghost anymore.
Some things still haunt me. I still think about why the Priest chose God instead, or about the fox, or about the characters who are not named, or about how the Banker is doing, or about the conversation with Belinda, or about Fleabag's quiet relationship with her father but mostly about how much she resembles her mother, or about the symbolism of the statue, or about Claire kneeling, or about the Priest being able to see us, or how S1 is cold but S2 is warm, or how Andrew Scott insisted on the Priest saying ily back, or how I desperately want to work in the film industry or just tell stories. <3
I loved the show, so I wanted to read the script, as well, for research and inspiration on screenwriting. Needless to say, I love its unique and playful tempo, all the cuts, flashbacks and funny, satirical little remarks. This show captures like none else the ironies of our modern society, the awkward tension and chaos of an unhealthy family, the quality of good banter, the weight of being (and, especially, of being seen and wanting to be seen, but avoiding your own "sight") and just what it means to be a woman in this day and age and how much rage and guilt and want and grief a single person can hold.
It is the story of a ghost, a woman whose name we don't ever learn because she doesn't perceive herself as her own person. It is about her navigating a grief so deep she cannot even think about, so she buries it down deep, hiding behind her mask of humour, of superficiality, of vulgarity, of irony. It is about her coping in her own way, about her being an observer, analysing each character (SUCH good characters, so well-rounded, so real and diverse and truly funny because we can all name similar people in our own lives) and admitting her own faults with pure, raw honesty.
It is terribly harsh and raw most of the time, until it is not. Until we get a sweet moment between Fleabag and Claire, or until we get to season 2 and the hopeless romantic in each one of us comes out of hibernation. It is a love story of a ghost-woman who falls in love (although she thought it impossible) with a kind man who should only adore another ghost and who chooses the latter, but not until the ghost-woman learns how to not be a ghost anymore.
Some things still haunt me. I still think about why the Priest chose God instead, or about the fox, or about the characters who are not named, or about how the Banker is doing, or about the conversation with Belinda, or about Fleabag's quiet relationship with her father but mostly about how much she resembles her mother, or about the symbolism of the statue, or about Claire kneeling, or about the Priest being able to see us, or how S1 is cold but S2 is warm, or how Andrew Scott insisted on the Priest saying ily back, or how I desperately want to work in the film industry or just tell stories. <3