One of the problems of portraying someone who is crippled through illness and slowly but inevitably dying from it is that a direct portrayal triggers a sentimental reaction: 'poor chap'. A second, related problem is that it builds a distance to the viewer, since the character is suffering and we (most of us) are not.
But this film ingeniously avoids both problems. How? John Diamond is not _shown_ to the viewer as terminally ill. Despite suffering from throat cancer, we hear his voice clearly, we see him (well, Neil Pearson) move around fit as a fiddle. The viewer simply observes the world around John through John's mind and John's mind is as sharp as ever. As a result, the viewers do not pity John, he is too clever and arrogant to invite pity.
It's the little things that makes one realise John's situation and which are so touching. He's witty but this wit is just as crippled as his voice when he has to repeat a joke several times, because his companions fail to understand him acoustically. His marriage rows with Nigella are suddenly hampered by logistic problems - moving out of the bedroom requires the accompanying transport of life-saving equipment.
But this film ingeniously avoids both problems. How? John Diamond is not _shown_ to the viewer as terminally ill. Despite suffering from throat cancer, we hear his voice clearly, we see him (well, Neil Pearson) move around fit as a fiddle. The viewer simply observes the world around John through John's mind and John's mind is as sharp as ever. As a result, the viewers do not pity John, he is too clever and arrogant to invite pity.
It's the little things that makes one realise John's situation and which are so touching. He's witty but this wit is just as crippled as his voice when he has to repeat a joke several times, because his companions fail to understand him acoustically. His marriage rows with Nigella are suddenly hampered by logistic problems - moving out of the bedroom requires the accompanying transport of life-saving equipment.
