The odd woman

Abstract

Although Margaret Rutherford's (1892-1972) presence became familiar to an enormous public, she remained in her performances the odd woman out: at times 'difficult', yet irrepressible; peculiar in dress, mannerism, speech, yet invariably to the fore. With their predilection for physical detail, at best careless, at worst cruel, all too commonplace at the time, critics liked to make fun of her features: her trembling chins, pursed lips, popping eyes, her mobile eyebrows. She was certainly physically memorable. Her whole body seemed to invite comment, especially when on the move: clasped hands, large strides interspersed with sudden darts, a bustling and, at the same time, purposive gait. Over the years her costumes and props became standardised: umbrella, beads, spectacles (alternating with lorgnette, monocle, even binoculars), a capacious shawl (or shapeless cape) and, always to top it off, floral hats that seemed to lead a horticultural life of their own. Throughout her career reviewers turned to animal epithets to describe her, but they were strangely mixed: porpoise, dragon, moth. It's as if the journalists were competing not only among themselves but with the actress herself in their attempts to capture her presence in a single stroke. Rutherford's origins were unusual. A significant number of the actresses who achieved prominence in the early twentieth century came from a theatrical background-a vocational advantage that had often led to early starts as a child performer.