But the thing is--she does know something. And it's not her "sweetness" that gives equal
ontological weight to the opposing point of view--it's her resolve...
I wish I could post actual footage of this scene:
I don't want you here, Uncle Charlie. I don't want you to touch my mother. So go away, I'm warning you. Go away or I'll kill you myself. See, that's the way I feel about you.
She delivers the lines with such understated force...as if she's actually
conserving the hysterical energy that any of us would feel welling up
within us if we ever found ourselves in such a situation--saving it up
it for the lethal blow.
Even more memorable are the two words--"Go away"--that escape through
her clenched teeth as she is revived by the author of her "accidental"
near-asphyxiation, surrounded by the good-natured chorus of benevolent
dupes whose innocence she strives so hard to protect throughout the
film... I once put those two words on my answering machine--during an
extended siege laid by collection agents... I don't think it really
worked (those fuckers don't hear anything--certainly not the voice of
conscience!)--but it sure made me feel better!
And for that, Teresa, (not to mention a wide range of performances in films as diffrent from each other as The Little Foxes, The Pride of The Yankees and Pursued) I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
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