Ben and I went to the cinema the other day for the first time in 18 months or so. The film we chose for this adventurous expedition – and it did feel adventurous – was a glossy new print of Now, Voyager, the Bette Davis picture from 1942, on the big screen at the BFI Southbank.
It was a suitable film in many ways, as it tells the story of a woman emerging from a kind of imprisonment and taking her place in the outside world. Davis plays middle-aged spinster Charlotte Vale, the unwanted daughter of a cruelly oppressive mother. The family is rich and aristocratic, but when we first glimpse Charlotte we see only her feet coming down a staircase – thick stockings, sensible black lace-up shoes, a skirt that falls sensibly to mid-calf.
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