They loved Bela Lugosi’s eyes… they kept drawing in close to his face and putting a ridiculous light on them just in case we might have missed their hypnotic power.
But for me, it’s all about his hands… his fingers… long and elegant, they are always under his precise control and they move with a measured and unwavering purpose... but simultaneously, you can feel a strange energy moving through them, like a tree’s limbs that are being thrashed by howling storms.
It is like the violence hidden in his understated and seemingly innocent response when being asked to share a drink with a guest:
“I never drink… … wine.”
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment