#hal fine

*CW: suicide mention*

*Spoilers for Requiem - episodes 1-3*

I'm looking again at how Joel Fry uses his physicality in scenes where he has little-to-no dialogue. Previously, I've talked about his reaction shots in a scene from Trollied where other characters have most of the lines/action. Today, we've got a scene from Requiem where he has no screen partners to play off and doesn't speak at all, but he still delivers atmosphere, character/emotion, and plot.

There are numerous creepy elements in Requiem, one of which is an eerie piece of instrumental music that appears to have a strange influence on the people who hear it. In the first episode, two different people die by their own hand after being seemingly haunted by the song, which they start hearing out of nowhere. And in the second, Matilda discovers a hidden room in the manor house that seems to be connected to the main mystery. At this point, she's interested in an old child abduction case that may be connected to the house, unaware of the supernatural elements, and she and Hal investigate the room. Hal starts sifting through the numerous audio recordings kept there, which is where he first hears the song.

Cut to episode 3, and Hal is lying awake at the pub where he spent the night. He can't stop hearing the music--he covers his ears, suggesting the song might physically be coming from somewhere, but it's also possible that it's just stuck in his head and he can't get it out. Either way, it's clear from Joel Fry's nonverbal performance how troubled Hal is by it: his exhausted-yet-wide-awake expression, the restless way he fidgets with his blanket, his aggravated tossing and turning, the way he holds himself as he tries in vain to block out the music.

In light of what's happened to other characters who've heard the song, it's natural to worry about Hal here. Joel's performance only adds to the concern. Hal is agitated, and you don't know how the music might be working its way into his mind. Is he about to become the next victim?

In the second half of the scene--still without dialogue--Hal does what he can to combat the effects of the song. Because he's a classical pianist, he does this by analyzing the music itself, attempting to transcribe it. We can see his weariness and stress at the start of it, sitting with his hands on his head and then drumming on the desk as he gears up to begin. He remains agitated at first, smacking himself in the ear as he tries to get a grip on the song, but once he gets into the rhythm of it, he grows calmer. By the end of the montage, Hal has regained his sense of control and put to paper a clue that will help Matilda's investigation. Not too shabby!

Hal Fine, Requiem

I don't watch a lot of horror, so I'm not sure how well this miniseries stacks up within the genre. Overall, I enjoyed it--I especially like how it combines a very human mystery (a child abduction cold case) with a more supernatural one (unexplained happenings, possible creatures or spirits.) The acting is strong, the character work is interesting, and the creepy atmosphere is on point! Unfortunately, I'm not all that satisfied with the resolution, which does color my opinion of it a little. Still, I'm glad I saw it.

I honestly can't say enough good things about Joel Fry as Hal. He has such a great dynamic with Lydia Wilson's Matilda. She's a famous cellist whose life has just been turned upside down, and he's her accompanist and confidante who bends over backwards for her time and time again. As she investigates the human and supernatural mysteries at the heart of the story, Matilda pulls Hal into all kinds of hell.

This is a character that could've easily tipped too far into Nice Guy territory, but I think they just avoid it. Matilda takes advantage of Hal's devotion to her and he knows it, though he also recognizes that he keeps letting her do it. Joel Fry inhabits him in such a grounded, human way, and as he interacts with the more fantastical elements of the plot, it makes them feel more relatable. He's just so good in this!

Not much in the way of Frenchie parallels, just hints here and there:

Hal wears a few different horizontal-striped shirts, which remind me of Frenchie's season 1 outfit--I imagine that's a common recourse for costume designers when they need to clothe a tall skinny guy!

I really like Joel Fry’s physicality in this role. The way he does it creates a very different effect compared to Frenchie, but to me, it feels like similar techniques deployed in a different way. For Hal, it's how he uses his limbs to sort of protect himself, and how he alternately stretches out his lanky frame and folds himself up to look much smaller than he is. When he's nervous, his fingers fidget the same way Frenchie's do.

Really, though, Hal has way more in common with Jasper:

He's the person closest to the female lead, who's becoming increasingly obsessed with her goal. He wants nothing more than to support her, but he's concerned that she's going too far and tries to pull her back from doing something she'll regret. I think Jasper is a stronger person than Hal, who often reverts back to a bit of a doormat. But the fact that he keeps trying to be a tempering influence on Matilda despite being a bit of a doormat speaks well for him.

On Requiem, Matilda is reeling after witnessing her mom's violent death, and she latches onto a box she finds at her mom's place, full of photos and clippings about a girl who disappeared from a small Welsh village 23 years ago. Her friend/accompanist Hal is the one who suggests driving out to Wales to have a look, saying, “I don’t think these photos mean anything, but sniff around, see what we can see."

Hal is in love with Matilda, and while I think he's mostly just thinking of bringing her solace any way that he can amid her grief, his feelings aren't a total non-factor here. So when they arrive and Matilda quickly attaches herself to Nick--another newcomer in town, the young man who's just inherited the large manor house that seems somehow tied to the mystery--Hal feels some kind of way about it. Maybe he's jealous that their two-person investigation has gained an extra (attractive male) participant, or maybe he's just protective of Matilda while she’s in a vulnerable position and they don’t know this guy. Either way, he's less than thrilled when Nick invites them to stay at the estate while they're in town.

Much of the house has been closed up for a long time, and they're warned that some of the bedrooms are "a bit mildewy." When he's unable to dissuade Matilda from staying, Hal doesn't say anything more about Nick, but you can feel the mounting frustration as he walks from bedroom to bedroom:

He speaks in increasingly clipped tones. His body language is subtly irritated in a kind of repressed way. He begins with a slow-paced wander but starts to stride more briskly down the narrow hall as he gets more aggravated.

In episode 5, though, Hal hits his limit. He's contacted by a family friend who wants to confirm that Matilda got the scan of her birth certificate, sent to her a couple days earlier. Unbeknownst to Hal, this was the moment that seemingly triggered Matilda to have a blackout in episode 3. We the audience know that she woke up the next morning with no memory of it, but to him, it looks like she got proof that she isn’t Carys, didn’t tell him about it, and carried on investigating anyway. He also discovers that she smashed her cello.

This is what prompts Hal to confront Matilda. As he pushes her about the birth certificate, everything he’s held back or previously only said gently/carefully comes spilling out. He’s at the end of his rope here—for a guy who’s been almost inhumanly accommodating and allowed himself to be kind of a well-meaning doormat, this is a major change.

For her part, Matilda feels cornered and super upset, and she lashes out in an extremely hurtful way. “I know what you want," she tells him. "You just want me back on my cello so you can carry on riding on my coattails. Well, I’m not going back, and I’m not performing anymore! So you can just go back and find someone else to carry you!”

Part of what makes Matilda an interesting character is that her myopic focus can make her so callous. She's all in on unraveling a deeply personal mystery that cuts to the very heart of who she is, and she admits to Hal, “I feel like I’m coming apart." The bad actors here are taking advantage of her singleminded desperation, using it to discredit her and make her look unhinged. But at the same time, her crusade leaves devastation in her wake, and she doesn't seem to notice or care. When Hal confronts her with something that's altogether reasonable based on the information he has, Matilda's first response amid her hurt and shock is to try to hurt him back.

But it shows a fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship, which isn't a surprise. At this point in the argument, Hal already laid it out for her:

HAL: "We’ve been nothing short of a disaster to this community.”

MATILDA: “We came here because you wanted to!”

HAL: “For you! I dropped everything and came here for you! Like everything I’ve done since the first time I saw you. Every single thing I’ve done has been to please you."

HAL: "…And you know….”

Gaaaahhhhhh, it’s just so, so good! The long pause before that last line, the subtle way his face crumbles as he says it, how he has to look away for a second afterwards? Joel Fry is incredible in this scene. I'm obsessed with his line delivery here on this not-quite-spoken admission that they both know he’s in love with her.

And okay. I’m not a fan of Nice Guys, in fiction or in real life. At best, they annoy me, at worst, they fill me with rage. But, Joel Fry-bias aside, I don’t quite think that’s what’s going on here. We don’t really get any sense from Hal along the lines of, “I deserve to date you because of all I’ve done for you,” or, “Why am I doing all this for you if you’re never going to date me?” Instead, it’s more like, “You’re never going to date me, and I can make my peace with that, but you know perfectly well that you can get me to do whatever you want because I’m in love with you.”

I also appreciate that, through all this, Hal doesn’t deny that he’s still gone along with all this stuff. In this scene, he acknowledges how Matilda has come to rely on his devotion to her and can take advantage of it, but even if she talked him into things he didn’t want to do, Hal doesn’t absolve himself for having done them. Much like the way he doesn't express any entitlement to Matilda's love and affection, this shows a clear-headedness on his part. His feelings aren't Matilda's fault, and he's not some blameless uwu who was forced into any of this by the big bad meanie. As such, he can argue with her without making himself into the victim.