Rickman As Lazarus
Alan Rickman once confessed that he repeated the line “By Grabthar’s hammer” dozens of times in his dressing room, searching for a delivery that could be both laughable and heartbreaking. That obsessive rehearsal revealed the seriousness he brought to comedy in “Galaxy Quest” (1999).
Dr. Lazarus of Tev’Meck was more than a spoof of a science fiction alien; he became Rickman’s satire of Shakespearean actors chained to roles they resented. From the moment he accepted the part, Rickman treated it as both parody and performance art, determined to craft a character who could amuse audiences while also moving them.
Rickman’s foundation came from decades of Shakespearean performance, where projection, diction, and posture shaped a character’s entire presence on stage. For Lazarus, he exaggerated those tools deliberately, playing him as a man who clung to every syllable of his alien dialogue as if performing “Hamlet.” He practiced speaking the lines in a booming cadence, rolling consonants and stretching vowels until the dialogue became comically grand. In interviews, Rickman joked that part of the challenge was treating a latex headpiece and green alien makeup as though they were the royal robes of Richard III. That self-parody gave the character an extra layer of humor, because Rickman was sending up his own seriousness as much as anyone else’s.
The most remarkable transformation came with Lazarus’s catchphrase: “By Grabthar’s hammer, by the suns of Worvan, you shall be avenged.” On the page, it read like nonsense. In Rickman’s hands, it became a miniature drama. He tried the line repeatedly, altering tone, speed, and breath control, experimenting with how much mock-heroic grandeur he could squeeze into nine words. The result was a phrase that audiences laughed at early in the film, then unexpectedly found moving when Lazarus finally delivered it with sincerity to honor a fallen comrade. That turn of emotion, rooted in his preparation, was key to elevating the role from a gag to a performance with heart.
His co-stars marveled at the discipline he brought to comedy. Tim Allen recalled that Rickman approached each scene as if they were performing a Royal Shakespeare Company production, even when the set was filled with latex aliens and plastic starship panels. Sigourney Weaver admitted that his dry seriousness often made her break character, because he had the ability to turn absurd dialogue into something that felt majestic. Director Dean Parisot gave him freedom to experiment, knowing that every exaggerated gesture or clipped delivery had been tested and rehearsed.
Rickman also leaned heavily into the physicality of Lazarus. He kept his chin raised and shoulders tight, embodying a performer who felt trapped within both prosthetics and professional resentment. The stiffness was intentional, a way of signaling that Lazarus carried the weight of his own dignity like a crown no one respected anymore. Yet, as the film unfolded, he gradually loosened his movements, mirroring the character’s reluctant camaraderie with his fellow “crew.” That physical arc came directly from Rickman’s preparation, where he mapped out how Lazarus’s body language should evolve across the story.
The response to his work was immediate. Audiences quoted Lazarus’s line with the same reverence once reserved for Shakespeare, finding humor in the exaggeration but also connection in the sincerity. Rickman’s ability to take a fictional sci-fi cliché and treat it with dramatic gravity turned the performance into one of the film’s highlights. He had prepared not only to make people laugh but to make them care about a character wearing rubber prosthetics and reciting absurd vows of vengeance.
Rickman proved that comedy can carry depth when treated with the seriousness of tragedy, leaving audiences with a character who turned nonsense into unforgettable theater.
Protect Our Religious Freedom
I signed an open letter to Prime Minister Albanese and Federal Opposition Leader Dutton, urging them to protect our religious freedom.
And I encourage you to read and sign the letter too!
Here’s the link so you can see why your right to practice your faith and live out your convictions should be protected… and add your name to mine and thousands of others as we speak up to raise the issue before the coming federal election: https://freedomforfaith.org.au/petition/
Quote of the Day
“I am not a product of my circumstances. I am a product of my decisions.” Stephen Covey – Author (1932 -2012)
Schooling vs Education – The Truth Behind The Education System
Joy Of Living
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Harrison Ford strapped on the fedora again in 2008, but this time he did so with a curious twist: during the filming of “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,” he performed many of his own stunts at age 65. Crew members recalled their surprise watching Ford climb onto moving vehicles, crash through glass, and sprint across uneven terrain with the same vigor he had decades earlier. For a franchise built on physical adventure, seeing its leading man embrace the danger so late in his career became one of the film’s most remarkable behind-the-scenes stories.
The movie, released in May 2008, was the fourth installment in the legendary series directed by Steven Spielberg. Set in 1957, it placed Indiana Jones against Soviet adversaries led by Irina Spalko, played by Cate Blanchett. The Cold War setting was chosen deliberately, reflecting both the historical moment and the passing of time since the last adventure in “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” (1989). Shifting from Nazis to Soviets allowed the story to align with the era’s geopolitical climate, while also signaling that Jones’s adventures had entered a new age.
The idea of incorporating extraterrestrial elements became one of the most debated choices. George Lucas championed the concept, believing the 1950s backdrop naturally tied into the sci-fi obsessions of that decade. Spielberg initially resisted the alien theme, preferring the mystical religious artifacts that defined earlier films, yet Lucas convinced him that the crystal skulls could merge archaeology with science fiction. This decision divided fans but also gave the film its distinct identity.
Shia LaBeouf joined the cast as Mutt Williams, a motorcycle-riding greaser who turned out to be Indiana Jones’s son with Marion Ravenwood, reprised by Karen Allen. Their reunion added emotional depth, with audiences seeing Jones not only as a legendary adventurer but also as a father grappling with family responsibilities. Offscreen, LaBeouf described working alongside Ford as intimidating, but Ford reportedly encouraged him to embrace the character’s rebellious energy.
One of the most thrilling sequences, the jungle chase involving sword fights between vehicles, required months of coordination. Blanchett trained extensively in fencing to convincingly duel LaBeouf on speeding jeeps. Spielberg wanted the sequence to feel old-fashioned and practical, so much of it was shot with real vehicles crashing through the Hawaiian jungle, combined later with CGI enhancements for hazards like the infamous swarms of giant ants.
Ford’s costume, especially the fedora, underwent careful updates. Designers slightly adjusted its shape to account for his older face, ensuring it still carried the same iconic silhouette. His whip, another trademark, was used sparingly because Ford had less interest in mastering the lengthy cracking routines, though he insisted on keeping the weapon visible to preserve the character’s authenticity.
Filming spanned multiple locations, from New Mexico deserts doubling as Nevada test sites to soundstages packed with ancient temple sets. The production also recreated the nuclear test town sequence, where Indiana Jones hides inside a lead-lined refrigerator to survive an atomic blast. That moment quickly became infamous, sparking the term “nuking the fridge,” a phrase now used to describe any story that stretches credibility too far. Spielberg defended the scene, noting it was scientifically reviewed and theoretically survivable, though even Ford later admitted its absurdity made it memorable.
Marketing leaned heavily on secrecy. Spielberg and Lucas wanted to preserve the thrill of discovery, so trailers revealed little about the actual plot. The secrecy extended to the cast as well; scripts were printed on red paper to prevent photocopying, and actors were monitored to avoid leaks. When the film finally premiered at Cannes, anticipation reached extraordinary levels, and the cast was met with a mix of ovations and sharp criticism.
Though reactions to the movie varied, the sheer scale of its production, the return of beloved characters, and Ford’s unwavering commitment made it an undeniable cultural event of 2008. For all its controversies, it reaffirmed the enduring magnetism of Indiana Jones, showing that adventure could still find new directions even after decades of storytelling.
The film’s most unforgettable truth remains that at an age when most actors would avoid physically punishing roles, Harrison Ford charged forward, proving that Indiana Jones was never defined by time, only spirit.
Dr. Howard Kelly
Young Howard Kelly was an orphan poor, hungry, and alone.
To survive and pay for school, he walked from house to house selling small goods.
One day, starving and with not a single cent in his pocket, he decided to knock on a door to ask for food.
But when a young woman opened it, her beauty and kindness made him hesitate.
Embarrassed to ask for a meal, he nervously said:
“Could I please have… a glass of water?”
The woman noticed his condition and returned with a large glass of milk.
He drank it slowly, savoring every sip.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked.
She smiled.
“You owe me nothing. My mother taught me never to take payment for kindness.”
Howard thanked her with all his heart.
But her kindness didn’t just fill his stomach it restored his faith in humanity.
Years passed.
The young woman grew up and faced a serious illness that local doctors couldn’t cure.
She was transferred to a major city for treatment. Among the consulting specialists was Dr. Howard Kelly now one of the country’s top physicians and a co-founder of Johns Hopkins Medical School.
When he heard the name of her hometown, his face lit up. He personally visited her hospital room and immediately recognized her.
Yes. It was her the same girl who had once offered him that glass of milk.
The diagnosis was grim. But Dr. Kelly wouldn’t give up.
Driven by memory and gratitude, he dedicated himself to saving her life.
After months of treatment and care, she recovered.
When the hospital sent her the bill, she hesitated. She knew she could never afford it.
But as she unfolded the envelope, something caught her eye at the bottom of the page a handwritten note under the word “Amount due.”
It read:
“Paid in full… with one glass of milk.”
Dr. Howard Kelly
Tears filled her eyes. Her heart overflowed with gratitude.
This is not a fable or a fictional tale.
Dr. Howard Kelly (1858–1943) was a real person a pioneering physician and one of the founding doctors of Johns Hopkins University.
Kindness doesn’t vanish. Sometimes it circles back in the most unexpected, life-saving ways.
To survive and pay for school, he walked from house to house selling small goods.
One day, starving and with not a single cent in his pocket, he decided to knock on a door to ask for food.
But when a young woman opened it, her beauty and kindness made him hesitate.
Embarrassed to ask for a meal, he nervously said:
“Could I please have… a glass of water?”
The woman noticed his condition and returned with a large glass of milk.
He drank it slowly, savoring every sip.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked.
She smiled.
“You owe me nothing. My mother taught me never to take payment for kindness.”
Howard thanked her with all his heart.
But her kindness didn’t just fill his stomach it restored his faith in humanity.
Years passed.
The young woman grew up and faced a serious illness that local doctors couldn’t cure.
She was transferred to a major city for treatment. Among the consulting specialists was Dr. Howard Kelly now one of the country’s top physicians and a co-founder of Johns Hopkins Medical School.
When he heard the name of her hometown, his face lit up. He personally visited her hospital room and immediately recognized her.
Yes. It was her the same girl who had once offered him that glass of milk.
The diagnosis was grim. But Dr. Kelly wouldn’t give up.
Driven by memory and gratitude, he dedicated himself to saving her life.
After months of treatment and care, she recovered.
When the hospital sent her the bill, she hesitated. She knew she could never afford it.
But as she unfolded the envelope, something caught her eye at the bottom of the page a handwritten note under the word “Amount due.”
It read:
“Paid in full… with one glass of milk.”
Dr. Howard Kelly
Tears filled her eyes. Her heart overflowed with gratitude.
This is not a fable or a fictional tale.
Dr. Howard Kelly (1858–1943) was a real person a pioneering physician and one of the founding doctors of Johns Hopkins University.
Kindness doesn’t vanish. Sometimes it circles back in the most unexpected, life-saving ways.
Quote of the Day
“Always try to do something for the other fellow and you will be agreeably surprised how things come your way – how many pleasing things are done for you.” Claude M. Bristol – Writer (1891 – 1951)
The Definition of a Spirit
Andrew John Day posted:
Vested interests have been editing and changing meanings in books for eons to suit their agenda. Check the definition of a “Spirit” in 1886 Webster dictionary.
And Thomas Mitchell commented:
Many have been deluded by the Materialist view of Man. A planned agenda is suppression , not just ignorance or fixed ideas. Our subjugation has been ongoing for a long time.