I like to mix up my viewing between various types of films. Sometimes I get on a kick and check out a few documentaries at a time, as I did recently.
When I covered most film festivals, there were times I'd get frustrated because several films would be playing at the same time that I wanted to check out -- while other times I was scrambling to find something -- anything -- to see. Such was the case when I covered Tribeca a couple of years ago and the documentary Toots was playing. I had an interest in this film for a couple of reasons. I'm fascinated by the nightlife of the 1940s and 50s and had enjoyed reading books about that period (including James Gavin's INTIMATE NIGHTS) and I recall stories of Shor and his legendary nightspot from my youth. His was a "saloon" that attracted celebrities ranging from comedian Jackie Gleason to actor John Wayne to newsman Mike Wallace. This film, a portrait crafted from interviews with the man (conducted a couple of years before his death in 1977) intercut with stock footage and fresh reminiscences by Wallace, author Pete Hamill, baseball player turned sportscaster Joe Garagiola, and others, was directed by Shor's granddaughter Kristi Jacobson.
Unlike some family projects, Jacobson takes a warts-and-all approach to the man. With the benefit of those tapes, we hear Shor tell parts of his life story in his own voice. The interviewees provide additional color and Jacobson doesn't whitewash her grandfather's faults and failings. What emerges is a wonderful portrait of a lost era, when the common man could mingle with the celebrity. Although it took me a couple of years to finally see the movie, I was very glad I had and would highly recommend it.
Rating: A -
Having grown up in Rhode Island, I spent some of my time at the amusement parks in the state. When I was a kid, there were two main ones: Crescent Park and Rocky Point. Unfortunately, both have gone the way of the dinosaur. As far as I know, no one has made a film about Crescent Park, but David Bettencourt, in his feature directorial debut, has documented the story of its rival in You Must Be This Tall: The Story of Rocky Point. Now, honestly, I'm not sure just how widespread an interest there might be for this film, beyond Rhode Islanders (or former Rhode Islanders) and aficianados of theme parks, but I can say that I was immediately transported back to my childhood. Watching this well-made film awakened long dormant memories. The movie also taught me about the history of the place. And I actually knew one of the interviewees, a former employee of Rocky Point, who had been a couple of years ahead of me in high school. This is a specialized movie but one that was close to my heart. If you enjoy amusement parks or New England history, it's worth a look.
Rating: B
The last of the documentaries I recently watched was Chris & Don. A Love Story. A couple of years ago, I was working with a regarded writer who had some correspondence from Don Bachardy. The name sounded vaguely familiar but I could not place it. I was told he was Christopher Isherwood's lover and that he was also an artist of some repute. So when I learned that someone had documented the couple's relationship, I figured I might check it out and hopefully learn something. Of course, I knew of Isherwood; he was the author of the THE BERLIN STORIES which were the basis for the play I Am a Camera and later the musical Cabaret (both of which were filmed). Watching this documentary, directed by Tina Mascara and Guido Santi, I had some mixed feelings.
Isherwood was an established writer who had settled in the United States in 1939 (becoming a citizen in 1946). In the early 1950s, while living in Southern California, he made the acquaintance of young Don Bachardy. With almost a 30-year gap between them, the pair embarked on a love affair that lasted -- not without its bumps -- until Isherwood's death in January 1986. A cynic might claim that Bachardy has wrapped himself in the mantle of the "Widow Isherwood". While he is a portaitist of some regard, he main claim to fame is that he was Isherwood's lover. It's clear that the writer wielded a lot of influence over the painter -- as some have pointed out, Bachardy adopted the clipped intonations of Isherwood and despite being raised in Southern California, he sounds like he hails from Great Britain. But there are some red flags about this relationship.
First of all, there's the age gap. Yes, from photographs and home movies of the period, Bachardy was clearly a handsome youth. But the fact that Isherwood enjoyed a liaison with Bachardy's older brother Ted, who later suffered a breakdown, underwent shock therapy and has battled mental illness is presented in an offhand manner. It raises some questions that are not answered or addressed: Did Isherwood romance the older boy to get to the youth? Or did he transfer his regard for the older boy to the younger after the older became ill? Or was it just happenstance?
Due to Ted Bachardy's illness, we may never know.
In the 1950s, the relationship raised eyebrows, as much for the age difference as for the transparency of it. Neither man felt the need to "pass" as heterosexual and they went everywhere together as a couple. It was Isherwood who encouraged the youth to pursue art, resulting in Bachardy's career as a portrait painter.
We hear snippets of Isherwood's thoughts read from his diaries by actor Michael York (who played the Isherwood character in the film Cabaret) and Bachardy speaks of the times when the couple pursued other lovers -- including a time when it appeared they might leave one another. Clearly, this is an unconventional love story, but one that I felt wasn't completely explored. We get a mostly one-sided view and I was left wanting something more.
Rating: B-
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
December 4: The Living End
Back in the heady days of the early 1990s when New Queer Cinema was at its nascent best, Gregg Araki broke through at Sundance with his anarchic road movie The Living End. I managed to catch the original showings back in 1992 in New York and came away somewhat impressed by the director's freewheeling style. He went on to craft similarly loosely plotted films including his "Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy" (Totally Fucked Up, 1993; The Doom Generation, 1995; and Nowhere, 1997) before turning to slightly more mature themes in the romantic comedy Splendor. He displayed a newfound maturity with the poignant Mysterious Skin (2005). I haven't yet seen Smiley Face (2007), his last released film to date.
Since I upgraded my cable system, I'm now able to stream films over the Internet and so I took advantage of my Netflix subscription to watch The Living End. I can't say exactly why I chose this one to watch except that it had a shorter running time than most of the films in my queue, it was World AIDS Day and perhaps I was just in the mood for a rollicking road movie about two HIV-positive gay men acting like Thelma and Louise.
Araki's plots are loose and leave a lot of open-ended issues. Some of his characterizations are broad, like the lesbians who give a ride to Luke (Mike Dytri), the studly hitchhiking drfter who turns out to be one of the film's heroes. Our other hero is movie critic Jon (Craig Gillmore) who, as the film opens, is told he is HIV-positive. Now remember, this was in the early 1990s when there were fewer drugs available and a diagnosis more or less meant a death sentence. Jon doesn't quite know how to react and while driving around, he crosses paths with Luke -- who has just fended off some over-the-top gay bashers, possibly having killed one or all of them.
Jon is a bit of a naif, so he takes Luke in, and the sexual tension gives way to real sex. The more they hang out together, the more Jon comes to realize that Luke is a loose cannon, releasing his anger at the world through violence. Jon breaks it off, but Luke worms his way back in one night when he confesses he may have killed a policemen. The pair go on the run up the California coast from Los Angeles to San Francisco. For the first time in his life, Jon is liberated while Luke begins to develop actual feelings.
And then ... well, the film sort of peters out. The denouement is meant to signify something grander than it conjures. The two leads are pleasant to look at and share a comfortable chemistry. Araki takes the cliche of the good girl falling for the bad boy and adds a same-sex spin to it. The film's ending leaves the viewer pondering about this couple's fate -- and whether they deserve each other or not.
While watching the movie, I had a vague recollection of scenes and characters, yet there were some surprises as well. I recall being mildly impressed with the film when it was released in 1992. I felt about the same way this time. It's not something I'd want to see again -- at least not for another decade, but it is a curiosity in Araki's career.
Rating: C+
Since I upgraded my cable system, I'm now able to stream films over the Internet and so I took advantage of my Netflix subscription to watch The Living End. I can't say exactly why I chose this one to watch except that it had a shorter running time than most of the films in my queue, it was World AIDS Day and perhaps I was just in the mood for a rollicking road movie about two HIV-positive gay men acting like Thelma and Louise.
Araki's plots are loose and leave a lot of open-ended issues. Some of his characterizations are broad, like the lesbians who give a ride to Luke (Mike Dytri), the studly hitchhiking drfter who turns out to be one of the film's heroes. Our other hero is movie critic Jon (Craig Gillmore) who, as the film opens, is told he is HIV-positive. Now remember, this was in the early 1990s when there were fewer drugs available and a diagnosis more or less meant a death sentence. Jon doesn't quite know how to react and while driving around, he crosses paths with Luke -- who has just fended off some over-the-top gay bashers, possibly having killed one or all of them.
Jon is a bit of a naif, so he takes Luke in, and the sexual tension gives way to real sex. The more they hang out together, the more Jon comes to realize that Luke is a loose cannon, releasing his anger at the world through violence. Jon breaks it off, but Luke worms his way back in one night when he confesses he may have killed a policemen. The pair go on the run up the California coast from Los Angeles to San Francisco. For the first time in his life, Jon is liberated while Luke begins to develop actual feelings.
And then ... well, the film sort of peters out. The denouement is meant to signify something grander than it conjures. The two leads are pleasant to look at and share a comfortable chemistry. Araki takes the cliche of the good girl falling for the bad boy and adds a same-sex spin to it. The film's ending leaves the viewer pondering about this couple's fate -- and whether they deserve each other or not.
While watching the movie, I had a vague recollection of scenes and characters, yet there were some surprises as well. I recall being mildly impressed with the film when it was released in 1992. I felt about the same way this time. It's not something I'd want to see again -- at least not for another decade, but it is a curiosity in Araki's career.
Rating: C+
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Dec. 3 "Approaching Union Square"
Recently, I upgraded my cable to include High Definition, so I now have a DVR -- which for me can be a dangerous thing. I've already loaded up on the occasional TV show (Hello! "Glee" and "FlashForward"), and have recorded several films that were scheduled during the hours I need to sleep. Over the last two years -- since I started with cable again -- I have been frustrated because occasionally a film I would like to watch appears on the channel's schedule ONCE -- one time -- and usually at the strange hour of 2am or so. (What that says about the films I want to watch is another story.)
So, recently I set the DVR for a small film that was playing on the Sundance Channel called Approaching Union Square. I selected this little indie for a couple of reasons. I used to live near and work in the Union Square area and I've been very nostalgic for Manhattan recently. And then there was the small matter that I was acquainted with one of the actors. So with a running time of 80 minutes, I figured what did I have to lose?
Without knowing much about the film, I settled in to watch and almost immediately I had the feeling that it was based on a play. There was something very theatrical in the set-up and the first scene is a woman (Katie Kreisler) talking to her therapist which culminates in the revelation that she thinks she's psychic. She soon boards a bus on which there are 9 other passengers and as the camera pans, it settles on one and there's a flashback to a recent event in their lives. Each rider has a moment but overall the only thing the characters have in common is that they are all on the same bus.
As it turns out, the film, which marked the feature directing and writing debut of Marc Meyers, was based on Meyers' stage play Love & Sex: Tales From the Trenches, which consisted of 11 monologues.
So once I "got" the film's set-up, I settled back and tried to appreciate the film. Overall, the acting was adequate with a couple of stand outs. The best known actor in the film would be Christine Elise (McCarthy), who played the recurring role of Jason Priestley's girlfriend on the old "Beverly Hills, 90210" series. Here she's cast as a woman seeking love and engaging in a long-distance flirtation. She does a nice job with an underwritten role. Others who stood out were Kreisler (perhaps because hers was the first and eventually the one that does ties the others together); Darren Pettie as a smug sex addict; Brent Crawford discussing an ex-girlfriend who is now ill; Victoria Haas as a cheating spouse breaking things off with her lover; and Patricia Randell as a woman afraid of many things.
Meyers is a better director than he is a writer -- personally I found several of the vignettes underdeveloped and undramatic. What may work on stage in a theater doesn't always translate well to the big screen -- and that is the case with several of the monologues. Meyers' staging and use of the camera, though, were assured and did not betray his status as a novice.
I got to see the actor with whom I was acquainted (and for several reasons I choose not to identify him/her) but there was hardly any shots of the streets of New York. The bus riders could have been approaching the Upper East Side or Central Park or anywhere in Manhattan (or even somewhere in one of the boroughs). For that, I was disappointed. Overall, the movie itself was intriguing and several of the scenes were enough to whet the appetite, unfortunately, as a whole, they weren't a filling meal.
Rating: C
So, recently I set the DVR for a small film that was playing on the Sundance Channel called Approaching Union Square. I selected this little indie for a couple of reasons. I used to live near and work in the Union Square area and I've been very nostalgic for Manhattan recently. And then there was the small matter that I was acquainted with one of the actors. So with a running time of 80 minutes, I figured what did I have to lose?
Without knowing much about the film, I settled in to watch and almost immediately I had the feeling that it was based on a play. There was something very theatrical in the set-up and the first scene is a woman (Katie Kreisler) talking to her therapist which culminates in the revelation that she thinks she's psychic. She soon boards a bus on which there are 9 other passengers and as the camera pans, it settles on one and there's a flashback to a recent event in their lives. Each rider has a moment but overall the only thing the characters have in common is that they are all on the same bus.
As it turns out, the film, which marked the feature directing and writing debut of Marc Meyers, was based on Meyers' stage play Love & Sex: Tales From the Trenches, which consisted of 11 monologues.
So once I "got" the film's set-up, I settled back and tried to appreciate the film. Overall, the acting was adequate with a couple of stand outs. The best known actor in the film would be Christine Elise (McCarthy), who played the recurring role of Jason Priestley's girlfriend on the old "Beverly Hills, 90210" series. Here she's cast as a woman seeking love and engaging in a long-distance flirtation. She does a nice job with an underwritten role. Others who stood out were Kreisler (perhaps because hers was the first and eventually the one that does ties the others together); Darren Pettie as a smug sex addict; Brent Crawford discussing an ex-girlfriend who is now ill; Victoria Haas as a cheating spouse breaking things off with her lover; and Patricia Randell as a woman afraid of many things.
Meyers is a better director than he is a writer -- personally I found several of the vignettes underdeveloped and undramatic. What may work on stage in a theater doesn't always translate well to the big screen -- and that is the case with several of the monologues. Meyers' staging and use of the camera, though, were assured and did not betray his status as a novice.
I got to see the actor with whom I was acquainted (and for several reasons I choose not to identify him/her) but there was hardly any shots of the streets of New York. The bus riders could have been approaching the Upper East Side or Central Park or anywhere in Manhattan (or even somewhere in one of the boroughs). For that, I was disappointed. Overall, the movie itself was intriguing and several of the scenes were enough to whet the appetite, unfortunately, as a whole, they weren't a filling meal.
Rating: C
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
December 2: "Les amours d'Astrée et de Céladon"
I was a weird kid, no question about it, but one thing for which I'm grateful is that I started learning French almost from the time I could speak. My mom had learned it in high school, my older sister had studied the language (as well as Spanish) and my aunt was a schoolteacher who sometimes taught French to her students. I went to Catholic schools and French was part of the curriculum, so I had eight years of French, followed by four more in high school. Since there was a language requirement in college, I first chose to take French (hey, it was an easy A), but then I got ambitious and decided to study German.
One of the benefits of studying the language was that we got to see several films in French. Indeed, I have indelible memories of my very first French-language film: Truffaut's Jules et Jim. Is it any wonder why I got hooked? I managed to see as many Truffaut films as I could (this was in the days before VHS and DVD) so I was dependent on revival houses. When I got to college in Boston -- the city was bursting with cineastes and one could head to the Orson Wells in Cambridge, or the Nickelodeon in Boston or the Coolidge Corner in Brookline. Plus BU had a pretty great cinema club going -- every weekend there were wonderful double features. Those were heady times which I know are just memories for some of us older folks.
So eventually I got introduced to Eric Rohmer's films. He's a fascinating filmmaker, mostly because he treats the audience with respect and intelligence. Rohmer's films deal more with human relationships. Some find his work very "talky" -- me, I find them irresistible.
His most recent effort (and what he has claimed will be his final movie) was 2007's Les amours d'Astrée et de Céladon (The Romance of Astrea and Celadon). This is a rare venture into period filmmaking for the director. He had previously suffered commercial failure with 1978's Perceval le Gallois, which was adapted from Arthurian legend. More than 20 years later, Rohmer tackled another "period" drama L'Aglaise et le duc (The Lady and the Duke) which played at the New York Film Festival. The director employed digital technology to create the backdrops and the result was quite fascinating. I rather enjoyed the movie although I know it was something of a minority view.
The Romance of Astrea and Celadon was adapted from a pastoral romance that itself was set in the fifth century. It's basically a tried and true tale of love -- in this case between a comely shepherdess (Astrea) and her lover, an aristocrat who works as a shepherd (Celadon). His family doesn't approve of her and so he must pretend to woo another. She spies him getting a bit too friendly with the "pretend" girlfriend and misconstrues the events. Her jealousy leads her to denounce her lover, who broken-heartedly threatens to kill himself. In fact, he jumps into a nearby river and his body is never found.
Well, at least not by his beloved or by his family. When he does wash up on shore, he's found by a nymph named Galatea and her minions, one of whom is the daughter of a druid priest. They nurse him back to health, but Galatea is certain he's to be her lover. One of her servants, Sylvia, frees Celadon and with the aid of her father, a druid priest, plot to reunite him with his beloved.
As in any Rohmer film, there's a lot of talk -- in this case about the nature of love and its many forms. There's also a wonderful sequence between the druid priest and Celadon in which the men discuss religion. The performances are somewhat formal as dictated by the plot, but otherwise enjoyable. It may not rank as the best of Rohmer's oeuvre but fans of the director's work should find The Romance of Astrea and Celadon satisfying.
Rating: B+
One of the benefits of studying the language was that we got to see several films in French. Indeed, I have indelible memories of my very first French-language film: Truffaut's Jules et Jim. Is it any wonder why I got hooked? I managed to see as many Truffaut films as I could (this was in the days before VHS and DVD) so I was dependent on revival houses. When I got to college in Boston -- the city was bursting with cineastes and one could head to the Orson Wells in Cambridge, or the Nickelodeon in Boston or the Coolidge Corner in Brookline. Plus BU had a pretty great cinema club going -- every weekend there were wonderful double features. Those were heady times which I know are just memories for some of us older folks.
So eventually I got introduced to Eric Rohmer's films. He's a fascinating filmmaker, mostly because he treats the audience with respect and intelligence. Rohmer's films deal more with human relationships. Some find his work very "talky" -- me, I find them irresistible.
His most recent effort (and what he has claimed will be his final movie) was 2007's Les amours d'Astrée et de Céladon (The Romance of Astrea and Celadon). This is a rare venture into period filmmaking for the director. He had previously suffered commercial failure with 1978's Perceval le Gallois, which was adapted from Arthurian legend. More than 20 years later, Rohmer tackled another "period" drama L'Aglaise et le duc (The Lady and the Duke) which played at the New York Film Festival. The director employed digital technology to create the backdrops and the result was quite fascinating. I rather enjoyed the movie although I know it was something of a minority view.
The Romance of Astrea and Celadon was adapted from a pastoral romance that itself was set in the fifth century. It's basically a tried and true tale of love -- in this case between a comely shepherdess (Astrea) and her lover, an aristocrat who works as a shepherd (Celadon). His family doesn't approve of her and so he must pretend to woo another. She spies him getting a bit too friendly with the "pretend" girlfriend and misconstrues the events. Her jealousy leads her to denounce her lover, who broken-heartedly threatens to kill himself. In fact, he jumps into a nearby river and his body is never found.
Well, at least not by his beloved or by his family. When he does wash up on shore, he's found by a nymph named Galatea and her minions, one of whom is the daughter of a druid priest. They nurse him back to health, but Galatea is certain he's to be her lover. One of her servants, Sylvia, frees Celadon and with the aid of her father, a druid priest, plot to reunite him with his beloved.
As in any Rohmer film, there's a lot of talk -- in this case about the nature of love and its many forms. There's also a wonderful sequence between the druid priest and Celadon in which the men discuss religion. The performances are somewhat formal as dictated by the plot, but otherwise enjoyable. It may not rank as the best of Rohmer's oeuvre but fans of the director's work should find The Romance of Astrea and Celadon satisfying.
Rating: B+
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
December 1: Brideshead Re-Revisted
Last month there was some sort of move afoot for people to blog on a daily basis. I never did find out why November was chosen, but true to form, I couldn't muster more than a few tweets on Twitter. And churning out those 140 characters took a lot of effort. I can't promise I'll fulfill a daily blog in December, but I will try to put up some posts. The project I undertook just over 2 years ago is in the end stage. Things are winding down so I now find myself with some time to play catch up and can watch DVDs, movies and shows on the DVR, etc.
Today at work I overheard a couple of people discussing a film from the early 1970's and one person made the observation that the story line reminded him of Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. I'll have to check out said movie and see if that's true. What caught my attention was that I recently re-watched the 2008 film version.
First off, let me say that I was a young lad when the television miniseries aired over several weeks in early 1982, but on the heels of Chariots of Fire, it appealed to the nascent Anglophile in me. I dutifully read the Waugh novel and watched each episode, savoring the production design, the costumes and, with a couple of exceptions, the superlative acting. To be honest, I could not warm up to Jeremy Irons' performance as Charles Ryder, nor did Diana Quick do much for me as Julia. But there was so much more to embrace: Anthony Andrews as the tragic Sebastian; Phoebe Nicholls as the stalwart Cordelia; Simon Jones as the snobbish Bridey; Charles Keating as the slightly roguish Rex Mottram; John Grillo as the unctuous Mr. Samgrass; Laurence Olivier as the dying patriarch; John Gielgud as the eccentric Mr. Ryder; and the superb Claire Bloom as the domineering Lady Marchmain.
When the show was finally released on DVD, I asked for it as a Christmas present and my sibling complied. And I was disappointed that those who released the discs did nothing to spruce it up. The visuals are muddy in places; the pictures faded. The quality of the transfer to disc was disappointing -- but I still could (and can) savor those wonderful performances. The direction, shared by Charles Sturridge and Michael Lindsay-Hogg was seamless and while there is some debate over the credit for the teleplay -- with John Mortimer receiving due -- it remains a fairly faithful adaptation.
When I first heard of a planned movie version, I was taken aback. I realize that it had been more than a generation since the TV series, but why tamper with something that was pretty close to perfection. The project germinated over a few years with various names thrown into the mix: at one time Jude Law was to play Sebastian with Paul Bettany and his wife Jennifer Connelly as Charles and Julia. That casting fell apart due to scheduling conflicts (and truthfully I heaved a sigh of relief -- to me, Jude Law is the kiss of death for any movie. He's a good enough actor, don't misunderstand, but almost none of the movies in which he appears have made a lot of money -- and the exceptions are when he was playing a supporting role.)
Eventually, the film was made with Matthew Goode, Ben Whishaw and Hayley Atwell in the key roles. Adding a touch of class and star power, Emma Thompson was cast as Lady Marchmain.
Dear God! I suddenly felt old. Emma Thompson as the mother? But then I remembered she was in her late 40's. Where did the time go?
Anyway, I saw the movie in the theaters and was decidedly unimpressed. One of my friends challenged me saying that perhaps I went in to the showing with my impressions already formed, but I countered that I am open to new takes on material. I'll see various productions of stage shows -- why wouldn't I be open to different filmic interpretations? Andrew Davies who did the adaptation has made a career of crafting terrific adaptations of literary fare -- everything from To Serve Them All My Days, Pride and Prejudice and The Line of Beauty for the small screen to Circle of Friends, Bridget Jones' Diary and The Tailor of Panama for the cinema.
One of the biggest problems I had watching the film on both occasions was that it felt rushed. Knowing the book, there were certain scenes and characters who came alive on the page and whose presence I missed in the film. And I do feel that director Julian Jarrold made one fatal error: using the same home to stand in for Brideshead that appeared in the television version. I mean, in all of the United Kingdom, he couldn't find another stately house that could pass for the home of the Marchmains? Every time I saw a shot of Castle Howard, I was immediately reminded of the miniseries, which called up memories of that leisurely adaptation.
This version is adequate and provides a sort of Cliff Notes version of the tale for a new generation. Whishaw put a slightly different spin on Sebastian, downplaying some of the character's tragic impulses. Goode was slightly better than Irons in the difficult role of Charles Ryder, who is the narrator and through whose eyes the audience views the other characters. Hayley Atwell is also an improvement over Diana Quick; her sensuality doesn't seem as forced as Quick's. But as in the original story, when the colorful Sebastian leaves the scene, the plot begins to falter somewhat.
I did enjoy the peerless Emma Thompson as Lady Marchmain. She was at least the equal of Claire Bloom's interpretation and Thompson leant the film a much-needed boost of star quality. To my mind, Thompson's take was akin to what Maggie Smith might have done with the part if she were somewhat younger -- and that's meant as a compliment. Michael Gambon, however, was somewhat disappointing as the estranged patriarch.
Overall, the movie is lovely to look at, with stylish costumes, handsome interiors and an attractive cast. Purists may prefer the flawed miniseries while those unfamiliar with the TV version will undoubtedly find the movie acceptable.
BRIDESHEAD REVISITED (1981 miniseries) B+
BRIDESHEAD REVISITED (2008 film) B-
On a totally unrelated note -- December 1 marks the 21st anniversary of World AIDS Day. Take a minute to contemplate what that means, please.
Today at work I overheard a couple of people discussing a film from the early 1970's and one person made the observation that the story line reminded him of Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. I'll have to check out said movie and see if that's true. What caught my attention was that I recently re-watched the 2008 film version.
First off, let me say that I was a young lad when the television miniseries aired over several weeks in early 1982, but on the heels of Chariots of Fire, it appealed to the nascent Anglophile in me. I dutifully read the Waugh novel and watched each episode, savoring the production design, the costumes and, with a couple of exceptions, the superlative acting. To be honest, I could not warm up to Jeremy Irons' performance as Charles Ryder, nor did Diana Quick do much for me as Julia. But there was so much more to embrace: Anthony Andrews as the tragic Sebastian; Phoebe Nicholls as the stalwart Cordelia; Simon Jones as the snobbish Bridey; Charles Keating as the slightly roguish Rex Mottram; John Grillo as the unctuous Mr. Samgrass; Laurence Olivier as the dying patriarch; John Gielgud as the eccentric Mr. Ryder; and the superb Claire Bloom as the domineering Lady Marchmain.
When the show was finally released on DVD, I asked for it as a Christmas present and my sibling complied. And I was disappointed that those who released the discs did nothing to spruce it up. The visuals are muddy in places; the pictures faded. The quality of the transfer to disc was disappointing -- but I still could (and can) savor those wonderful performances. The direction, shared by Charles Sturridge and Michael Lindsay-Hogg was seamless and while there is some debate over the credit for the teleplay -- with John Mortimer receiving due -- it remains a fairly faithful adaptation.
When I first heard of a planned movie version, I was taken aback. I realize that it had been more than a generation since the TV series, but why tamper with something that was pretty close to perfection. The project germinated over a few years with various names thrown into the mix: at one time Jude Law was to play Sebastian with Paul Bettany and his wife Jennifer Connelly as Charles and Julia. That casting fell apart due to scheduling conflicts (and truthfully I heaved a sigh of relief -- to me, Jude Law is the kiss of death for any movie. He's a good enough actor, don't misunderstand, but almost none of the movies in which he appears have made a lot of money -- and the exceptions are when he was playing a supporting role.)
Eventually, the film was made with Matthew Goode, Ben Whishaw and Hayley Atwell in the key roles. Adding a touch of class and star power, Emma Thompson was cast as Lady Marchmain.
Dear God! I suddenly felt old. Emma Thompson as the mother? But then I remembered she was in her late 40's. Where did the time go?
Anyway, I saw the movie in the theaters and was decidedly unimpressed. One of my friends challenged me saying that perhaps I went in to the showing with my impressions already formed, but I countered that I am open to new takes on material. I'll see various productions of stage shows -- why wouldn't I be open to different filmic interpretations? Andrew Davies who did the adaptation has made a career of crafting terrific adaptations of literary fare -- everything from To Serve Them All My Days, Pride and Prejudice and The Line of Beauty for the small screen to Circle of Friends, Bridget Jones' Diary and The Tailor of Panama for the cinema.
One of the biggest problems I had watching the film on both occasions was that it felt rushed. Knowing the book, there were certain scenes and characters who came alive on the page and whose presence I missed in the film. And I do feel that director Julian Jarrold made one fatal error: using the same home to stand in for Brideshead that appeared in the television version. I mean, in all of the United Kingdom, he couldn't find another stately house that could pass for the home of the Marchmains? Every time I saw a shot of Castle Howard, I was immediately reminded of the miniseries, which called up memories of that leisurely adaptation.
This version is adequate and provides a sort of Cliff Notes version of the tale for a new generation. Whishaw put a slightly different spin on Sebastian, downplaying some of the character's tragic impulses. Goode was slightly better than Irons in the difficult role of Charles Ryder, who is the narrator and through whose eyes the audience views the other characters. Hayley Atwell is also an improvement over Diana Quick; her sensuality doesn't seem as forced as Quick's. But as in the original story, when the colorful Sebastian leaves the scene, the plot begins to falter somewhat.
I did enjoy the peerless Emma Thompson as Lady Marchmain. She was at least the equal of Claire Bloom's interpretation and Thompson leant the film a much-needed boost of star quality. To my mind, Thompson's take was akin to what Maggie Smith might have done with the part if she were somewhat younger -- and that's meant as a compliment. Michael Gambon, however, was somewhat disappointing as the estranged patriarch.
Overall, the movie is lovely to look at, with stylish costumes, handsome interiors and an attractive cast. Purists may prefer the flawed miniseries while those unfamiliar with the TV version will undoubtedly find the movie acceptable.
BRIDESHEAD REVISITED (1981 miniseries) B+
BRIDESHEAD REVISITED (2008 film) B-
On a totally unrelated note -- December 1 marks the 21st anniversary of World AIDS Day. Take a minute to contemplate what that means, please.
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