Having just attracted almost 1300 new readers to my novel, The Memory of Roses, through a Goodreads giveaway, I thought it might be fun to re-post my vision of the perfect cast for my fantasy movie version of the book. I have added some possibilities since the last post. Have fun, and let me know if you have some ideas of your own!
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A friend of mine is a film editor. She has worked on a number of major films, including one of my all-time favorites, Under the Tuscan Sun. She kindly offered to read my manuscript and make suggestions on The Memory of Roses at the point where I was readying it for submission to publishers. She was helpful in a number of ways, principally in helping me to thinking visually, rather than only in words.
What I enjoyed most in the exercise I did for her was “casting” my book. If it were to be made into a movie, who would I want to play the various parts in in?
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| Claire Forlani as our heroine, Brit |
My heroine, Brit, would be a beautiful young actress I’ve only seen once—Claire Forlani who was the lead in Shadows in the Sun. She’d be quite perfect.
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| Sean Connery as Ian McQuaid |
Ian McQuaid, Brit’s father, would be Sean Connery as he was twenty years ago.
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| Jennifer Lopez possibly as Maria |
Maria, Ian’s lover, Maybe Jennifer Lopez, but not quite. She needs to be younger, more innocent, more vulnerable.
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| Hector Elizondo as John Meyers |
John Meyers, Brit’s attorney, would be Hector Elizondo (the hotel manager in Pretty Woman). That’s perfect casting.
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| Vincent Riotta as Emmanuel |
Emmanuel would be Vincent Riotta (the estate agent in Under the Tuscan Sun) Again I can’t imagine anyone better.
Daphne—I’ve never found just the right mixture of charm and wisdom needed for this young woman who comes to the villa to work for Brit. Any suggestions?
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| Rufus Sewell as Paulo |
Paulo di Stefano—Rufus Sewell—of The Master Builder, and the Zen series. Dark and handsome with sexy eyes.
Andreas—my hero. Now that one was fun to cast. No one was really good looking enough, but Jude Law came close. In my mind I see the statue of the Greek messenger of the Gods, Hermes, in a sculpture I love in the Museum of Archaeology in Athens. That’s the face, the form, the sexy body of my hero, Andreas. However Andreas’ brains, patience and temperament--they were all my husband’s.
Brit and Andreas lock
horns more than once in my story. That’s only natural. Brit’s in her early
thirties. She’s financially independent, has taught at the university level,
and is used to making her own decisions. Add to that the fact that, after one
disastrous love affair, she doesn’t trust men.
Then throw her daily into
contact with a man who looks like a Greek god, who is five years younger than
she is, and who is pursuing her relentlessly.
Add to the mix the difference in their
cultures. He’s a Greek Male. They’ve been used to running things ever since
Alexander the Great.
She’s an independent
professional American woman. Nobody is going to tell her what to do.
That’s a recipe for
fireworks.
In the following scene,
Andreas arrives back from Santorini after a week’s absence to discover that
Brit has undertaken a major building project on the property without consulting
him.
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Brit
was standing in the middle of this chaos in the late afternoon when Andreas
appeared in the doorway.
“Daphne
said you were down here.” He looked around briefly, taking in everything.
“Andreas.
I wasn’t expecting you until the evening flight.”
“Clearly.”
He spun on his heel and walked swiftly away.
“Andreas,
wait!” Brit ran after his retreating form. She caught up with him halfway to
the house. “Andreas, stop, please. Listen to me.”
“When
were you going to tell me about this?” He kept striding toward the house. Once
inside, he went swiftly up to their bedroom and out on the balcony, Brit
followed more slowly.
He
turned abruptly toward her. “I asked you a question, Brit. When were you
planning to tell me about this? Didn’t you think it mattered enough to mention
it to me? I know we’re not married. But we are living together. Don’t you think
a decision like this is something we should at least have talked about?”
“I
knew you’d say we shouldn’t do it.”
“I
see. So rather than discussing it, instead of hashing it out between us, you
just went ahead with it on your own. Is that your idea of the way two people
who care for each other make decisions?”
Brit
hesitated. “No. Of course not. I suppose I should have talked with you about
it.”
“You
suppose? It will be huge job, Brit, and I can’t be here to supervise. Someone
has to oversee all this work. You need a proper contractor, not just an
assortment of local workers.”
Brit
shook her head. “I don’t really think we need a contractor. Emmanuel will
coordinate the work.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “and you
haven’t even considered the money it will take. I’m well off, Brit, but…”
“I’m
doing this with my own money, Andreas.”
His face turned white with anger. “I see. You
think that using your money for it makes it all right. Using your money rather
than mine means it isn’t necessary to discuss it with me. That says a great
deal about how you view our relationship.”
Brit
was speechless. She hadn’t thought for a moment about how it would seem to him.
While she was pondering what to say, how to make it right, he spun around and
walked out of the room and down the stairs. She heard his car start up and then
the spray of gravel as he sped away. What had she done?
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