Cumberhats: redux

Parade's End: it's a big, periody, costumey thing, and by thunder it gives old Benylin Cummerbund of this parish the chance to do what he does best: wear a hat.

When watching Parade's End the other day, I remembered that its announcement had prompted me to investigate Benedict Cumberbatch's fondness for headgear and note that his name could be sung to the Thundercats theme last year.

I had, of course, no earthly clue that the programme itself would catapult its star into the stratosphere of hat-wearing, cementing his status as one of the 21st century's foremost hatters. Quite apart from the regular sight of Rebecca Hall standing around naked and shouting at servants, which I obviously endorse, Parade's End deserves huge praise for its commitment to millinery.

Here is a section I'd call 'Cumberhattitude', if it didn't introduce a third idea into a portmanteau that already creaks under the weight of two. WITNESS: Cumberbatch ...
In a homburg by some cliffs



In a sort of old-guy golfer's hat in a field



In an army hat with Rupert Everett in another hat



In a massive big top hat



In a tin hat in a war



In admittedly one of the same hats as before but with a child also in a hat


And now, BEHOLD:

Bonus, non-Parade's End-related Cumberhats collage (yes, this is basically just a Tumblr now)

I like to imagine that, when Cumberbatch pointed out what a crock of shit Downton Abbey is, he was wearing a bearskin and smoking a pipe.