Thoughts can be revealed ostensibly through facial expressions. Throughout the play Routledge’s face is plastered with a look of severe indifference to the world. A pithy note would be that Irene never raises so much as a smile in her house. Her only differential mood is pride. This is marked by her raised eyebrows and pursed lips which show us she’s happy with herself. This makes her seem arrogant, but Irene manages to transform the situation by the contrast of her facial expressions (from indifferent to proud and back again) to accentuate that her pride comes from her own warped perception. Irene suffers from delusion; she sees reality differently from what it really is. In this case she deems the junk mail from the opticians to be ‘nice’ and ‘considerate’, when it is clearly a routine letter. This makes us empathise with her one starts to realise that she may be lonely and also suffering from acute psychological issues.
From where Irene resides, one can observe the conditions in which she lives in. This house would at first seem ‘simply furnished’, plain and boring. But when one views it on video one can see the void her house has become. It seems desolate, which relates to her social life. One has compassion for Irene sitting alone at the window sill or next to her window ledge as it highlights how profoundly alone she is.
Clad in formal, frumpy clothing Irene appears older than she is which we cannot see through the text and therefore cannot be portrayed to the reader, just the viewer. Routledge portrays this woman who has aged before her time, segregated from society and its fashion since her ‘mother died’. This allows our progressing understanding of Irene’s character to develop and feel for her all the more.
Tranquillity is not gained from Patricia’s inanimate body. Her lack of gestures and movements gives one a sense of utmost discipline on her part. She does not ever seem to relax as one might expect from someone with her plentiful amount of time.
One is filled with compassion for someone who does not allow herself to relax nor enjoy herself. Her standards of discipline are so high that she views prison as a ‘holiday camp’. Another reference to her unsound mind is underlined by her constant intertwining of her fingers and the nervous wringing of her hands. Although this may not seem to be poignant at first, in context one would feel pity towards her unsettled state. At first this could have been viewed as an impatient habit from someone so fixated in routine to the point she always has nothing to do Wednesday afternoons and ‘dangles her feet a bit.’
Fundamentally, the lighting helps establish the mood in Ruddock’s house. Mostly a dull light is shown – enough to portray the day time and her bare house, but not bright enough to lighten the mood. It compliments Routledge’s acting of melancholy wonderfully. This spectacular achievement cannot be conveyed through the text. The atmosphere can only be influenced by the dialogue and tone throughout the monologue; however, one viewing the monologue would have their pity emphasised by the sombre lighting.
Close-ups also help one to establish the way in which Ruddock talks to us. Routledge, for the most part, looks down on us instead of speaking directly to us as equals. In striking contrast, Routledge looks straight at us, whilst she’s in prison, at the end of the monologue. One is filled with understanding that she only treated people without respect before because she was misunderstood and lonely, which makes one pity her life beforehand. The close-up shots also highlight Routledge’s every expression and show the way she feels intimately and so one relates to her sadness as it is more personal. Routledge’s eyes well up at the thought of her mother, creating pity because of her profound loss. This is something the reader cannot experience whilst reading the text and so leaves one feeling unsympathetic towards Irene Ruddock.
The contrast between Ruddock’s life outside and inside prison is a crucial way Routledge evokes sympathy. We can see that she is profoundly happier locked away, but the vital difference is her contact with people whereas before writing letters were her only form of communication. This is shown by Routledge by her smiling face, which we had never so much as glimpsed in her house. Movements and gestures are bigger and louder as if even her limbs have more freedom. Even her once consistent voice has quickened; her excitement spurred on the following words. One realises how much she has changed and thus are heartened by the new joy she has found. However, it is tragic for the viewer to hear that she has not felt this way before imprisonment, and in ways the reader never considers imagining.
Importantly, the reader experiences a cold and insensitive reaction when Irene finds out the ‘kiddie’ has leukaemia. One is aghast towards how bluntly brutal she is when regarding the subject. In contrast, Routledge portrays a quiet sorrow upon the discovery of the kiddie’s illness, which cannot be conveyed through the text alone. Thus, we are no longer unsympathetic towards Irene as she no longer appears the stereotypical, cold-hearted spinster.
However, despite the happiness in this scene we see how evocative it really is. For it took for such a terrible thing to unleash happiness in her life. One pities her and foremost feels guilty for once perceiving her as such an unsympathetic individual. Only at the end can one realise how much empathy we really feel for her thanks to the combination of Routledge’s abilities.