Screen Stories

Third Outing for Tess takes a tumble

2008-09-30T17:48:00.003+01:00

What a shame. I was really getting to grips with Tess of the D'Urbervilles, the BBC's latest period drama offering. Episode One was a bit bland and iffy. Episode Two was a comparative cracker. Episode Three stalled. Badly.

I'm trying to work out whether I found this particular quarter of Hardy's novel similarly dull and inspiring. But no. I always remember being gripped by Tess and Angel's brief 'honeymoon' at the creepy old D'Urberville mansion. And overwhelmed with fury at Angel's callous priggishness.

In this production, I found these scenes oddly lifeless. It's not for want of trying on the part of Gemma Arterton's Tess. She really does pucker up her bottom lip nicely, and her large, soulful eyes glow with fearful sorrow. Having thought Eddie Redmayne made for a decent enough Angel Clare in Episode Two, I was now forced into second thoughts. His entire demeanour was wooden, his voice flat and unemotional. To my surprise, I found myself hankering for Oliver Milburn's performance in ITV's 1998 version of Hardy's epic.

Tess's gruelling farm-work was also well-portrayed in the 1998 ITV version; genuinely resonant of hardship and suffering. You could see why Alex's offer to take Tess away from the grime and misery of peasant life was so inviting?

Which perhaps points to the main difficulty I am having with this piece right now. The BBC prides itself on authentic period drama, but has shied away from any semblance of the grit and grime which would have besmirched daily rural life at this time.

We need a real sense of Tess's sufferings here. And I'm just not getting it.

Hopefully things will pick up in next week's final episode. I'll post a fuller review then.

Last Lost In Austen lacking

2008-09-28T21:34:00.005+01:00

How very, very sad. Having enjoyed, for the most part, Lost In Austen, ITV's 'fan fiction' take on Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice, the final episode was all too rushed and really, a little bit rubbish.

Unlike numerous comments I have encountered on other blogs, I was not disappointed by Darcy winding up with the eternally irritating Amanda Price (she never grew on me ... I tried. Honest). In fact, I thought it was the logical conclusion to what turned out to be a Mary Sue-Supreme, in Fan Fiction parlance. Amanda managed to ensnare the interest of just about every chap in Austen-land she came across, and Darcy was no exception.

I couldn't help but notice, during my perusal of other review sites, that rascally Wickham has become a firm fan favourite, ousting Darcy himself as Totty Numero Uno. While considering him pleasant enough , I was glad he didn't become the 'hero'. There was definitely something a little odd about him though - almost too knowing, too wily. Perhaps if there is a sequel (which I rather doubt; viewing figures weren't that great), I imagine Wickham might be unveiled as a fellow time-traveller, which would be VERY interesting - and I only wish it had been the case in this series.

In the final episode, Amanda returned to the hurly-burly of modern London, pursued by a perplexed Mr Darcy, convinced he was suffering some kind of psychotic, delusional episode. More could have been made out of this.

We also met Lizzy Bennet again - now a fully-fledged 21st century girl, complete with mobile phone and a passion for the Internet. I must say, I rather wish that Gemma Arterton would actually play Elizabeth in a more traditional transposition of Austen's novel. She'd be smashing in the role - a darn sight better than her Tess in Tess of the D'Urbervilles, currently showing on BBC1, in which she is fine enough, but her Elizabeth Bennet really is a missed opportunity.

The same in fact could be said of all the cast in Lost In Austen. There really wasn't a single false note among them, which is a rare occurence. Hugh Bonneville's Mr Bennet was fabulous. Alex Kingston made for an interesting, youthful take on Mrs Bennet. Morvern Christie was a sweet and endearing Jane, and the remaining Bennet sisters were nicely cast too. Guy Henry was a delightfully unctuous, wheedling Mr Collins, while Tom Mison made for a winning Bingley and Tom Riley was fine as Wickham. Elliot Cowan has his fair share of detractors as Mr Darcy, but actually, he did well ... nothing scintillating, but certainly pleasing enough (most especially in his wet shirt ... OK, that was hideously shallow).

It is a shame that ITV can't remake Pride & Prejudice with this same cast and nicely honed production values, (better than the actual Austen adaptations they screened last year). Then again, I mainly enjoyed Lost In Austen, even if it did get very, very silly, and the script creaked horribly in parts, during Episode Four. Amanda's desperation to steer the cast and plot in the same direction as Austen's novel eventually became a little too wearing, but some truly hilarious moments were had along the way.

Tess perks up for Episode Two

2008-09-22T23:30:00.003+01:00

The second episode of the BBC's Tess of the D'Urbervilles was a marked improvement on the first. Good, solid performances all-round - especially from Gemma Arterton as Tess - and lush production values, basking in the luxuriant glow of Sunday-friendly BBC period drama in full throttle.

There was a sweeping range of emotions on offer in this single hour; from heart-felt tragedy when Tess's baby dies, (as a mother of a baby myself, I found the scene where Tess, dry-eyed with grief, holds her baby's corpse, especially hard to bear), through to the radiant sappiness of young love, when Tess and Angel Clare fall head over heels for one another.

Particularly enjoyable was Angel Clare's visit home, to his God-fearing family; bastions of middle-class Victorian respectability, the lot of them. Angel's feistiness in the face of avuncular adversity, was pleasantly evinced by Eddie Redmayne.

As her happiness grew, Arterton's Tess also became increasingly fearful that her soiled past would rise up and derail her current happiness. Her tension was well-played, skilfully infecting the tenor of the piece. Even for those who have not read the novel, the moment Tess allows her letter to Clare, announcing the truth about her 'impure' past, to flutter from her hands, into an open fire, we are left with a sense of forboding - which augurs well for Episode Three.

This is not vintage BBC adaptation. It fails to scale the heights of former glories such as Cranford, Bleak House or Pride & Prejudice. But it is solid fare; competent, presentable, heritage drama, offering little new or challenging in its reading of Hardy's novel. I suspect it will be pretty forgettable, but it is pleasant enough viewing for now.

Surprises all round in third episode of Lost In Austen

2008-09-18T13:47:00.004+01:00

ITV's third episode of Lost In Austen was the funniest yet. Amanda Price (Jemima Rooper) has captured the devoted attentions of Mr Darcy - unintentionally of course - and she has found that she loves him in return. But, alas, the poisonous Caroline Bingley has derailed any potential marital happiness by insinuating that Amanda has a nefarious past, and to top it off, Darcy finds Amanda's copy of 'Pride & Prejudice' and accuses her of writing a Roman a Clef, rudely failing to disguise the identities of himself and the Bennets.

This series has prospered by taking a well-loved plot and characters, altering the course of their lives beyond recognition, with the surprising result, that the new plot has become rather gripping, and the characters themselves more and more intriguing.

Surprises reigned in Episode Three. Georgiana Darcy was a sly little snake who had tricked her brother into hating Wickham, who has proved to be an honourable little sod, and a handy friend for Amanda. Caroline Bingley turns out to be a lesbian, despite her vaunted ambitions to wed Darcy and his mountain of money. Mrs Bennet is overcome with remorse for wedding sweet Jane to the abominable (albeit hilarious) Mr Collins. And Bingley is a drunk.

Hugh Bonneville continued to be marvellous as Mr Bennet - now sleeping in his beloved library to escape the hysterics of his family.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was a formidable characterisation from Lindsey Duncan; snobbish, disdainful and astute.

Meanwhile, Elliot Cowan's Darcy really had a moment to shine - his very own wet shirt scene a la Colin Firth. His Darcy has become a formidable beast (another surprise, frankly); much more multi-layered and disarmingly 'emotional' than, certainly Austen conceived.

I still have lingering doubts about Hooper's Amanda Price; a little too forced and chipper for my liking. But this series has myriad compensations - all of them surprising. And often in a good way.

BBC's Tess proves a turgid tale

2008-09-15T13:26:00.004+01:00

As is increasingly the case in the field of text-to-screen adaptation, former adapted works often come to dominate and haunt their successors.

In the case of Thomas Hardy's many works (frequently adapted for film and TV), there have been two definitive Hardy adaptations which overshadow any subsequent attempts to capture the essence of Hardy's rustic melodramas. Both are films: Roman Polanski's 1979 version of Tess, starring a luminous Nastassja Kinski, and John Schlesinger's 1967 Far From the Madding Crowd, offering stellar performances from Julie Christie (Bathsheba Everdene), Alan Bates (Gabriel Oak), Terence Stamp (Sgt. Troy) and Peter Finch (Farmer Boldwood).

Both novels have also been adapted for TV - most recently, Tess in 1998 for ITV, starring Justine Waddell as the tragic heroine, and Far From the Madding Crowd, also in 1998, and again for ITV, with Paloma Baeza in the starring role, supported by Nathaniel Hawthorne as Oak and Jonathan Firth as Sgt. Troy.

The BBC has not been a notable Hardy-adaptor, hence last night's Tess of the D'Urbervilles, written by David Nichols and directed by David Blair, was a fairly unusual venture. The mini-series has been much-heralded, in part because of the latest Brit-IT girl of the silver screen and new Bond Girl, Gemma Arterton, taking on the central role.

In the circumstances, Gemma does fine - although her West country accent grates a little. She makes for a very pretty Tess with a delightful pout - one which even Keira Knightley would be proud of.

And the production is determinedly pretty too, with some lovely landscapes serving as a pleasant backdrop to the increasingly tragic events unfolding before us.

But I still can't shake off the nagging thought that this is BBC Adaptation-by-Numbers: albeit slick, smart, and well-presented.

There are a few pleasant touches. The episode opens and closes with country girls dancing in a circle, symbolising ancient fertility rites, celebrating youthful innocence. Tess is one of the dancers at the opening of the episode, but is excluded by its close, as she is now an unwed mother.

There is also a strong showing from Ian Puleston-Davies as Tess's father John, whose delusions regarding their heritage as descendants of the ancient landed family of the D'Urbervilles, prove to be the catalyst, launching Tess into her own personal tragedy.

We catch an early glimpse of Angel Clare (Eddie Redmayne), Tess's later love, and have prolonged exposure to the amoral cad Alec d'Urberville, played here with weary insouciance by Hans Matheson. Alec entices Tess to his country pile, ostensibly to help out his 'relation', but he has nefarious plans in store for her. He eventually rapes Tess, thus destroying her future.

In truth, however, what should be compelling, atmospheric and prescient, winds up a little perfunctory and disinterested.

Undoubtedly, the BBC is the driving force behind classic screen adaptation for TV. But in this instance, the ITV production of Tess, first broadcast in 1998, is the superior version. Of course, only one episode of the BBC's Tess has been aired, and there are three more episodes to persuade me otherwise.

Even so, I cannot imagine how the BBC's Tess will ever live up to Polanski's Tess, which is deserving of the accolades and fond remembrances lavished on it.

A few false notes but entertaining froth from Lost In Austen's second outing

2008-09-11T13:02:00.004+01:00

Just a quick opinion on the second episode of ITV's Lost In Austen, aired on the 10th September. After last week's bright start, we are now fully immersed with Amanda Price in Austenland. Elizabeth Bennet has been banished in perpetuity it seems, to 21st century Hammersmith - until, no doubt, the end of the series.

Lost In Austen remains sparkling, often witty with some nice acting along the way. This week Mr Collins, played by Guy Henry, was the star performer. He was suitably spiderish and unctuous, to an almost queasy degree. His little self-handling habit was aptly stomach-churning.

I'm still not sure about Jemima Rooper's Amanda Price. Her chattering internal voice irritated me, and her constant Thoroughly Modern Miss-iness began to grate on my nerves.

Amanda's constant and desperate drive to steer the Pride & Prejudice plot in the right direction also began to pall. I hardly know how Mr Darcy (Elliot Cowan) tolerated her constant pratings about 'Elizabeth' and there were further jarring moments too, when Amanda bluntly told characters what they were like, based on her reading of Austen's novel. Occasionally this worked well, particularly when she complained that she never really got Miss Bingley's character!

In sum, Lost In Austen's second outing was less impressive than the series' opener - too many false notes and excessive exposition, and an over-flustered heroine sporting a pained grimace as her plans to put the plot right, encountered one dramatic failure after another. But overall, I am enjoying this series more than I thought I would (or should).

Lost In Austen not such a loss at all

2008-09-04T11:54:00.007+01:00

I had abysmally low expectations for last night's ITV premiere of Lost In Austen, a four-part serial from writer Guy Andrews. Lost In Austen offers us a rather far-fetched and decidedly kooky tale - 21st century Austen-obsessive Amanda Price (Jemima Rooper), encounters Jane Austen's favourite heroine Elizabeth Bennet in her bathroom, and then enters the world of Pride & Prejudice via a mysterious portal in her shower.

I was sure that this conceit would collapse under the weight of its own silliness within the first fifteen minutes. More fool me!

Lost In Austen proved to be a delightfully frothy and highly amusing wee jaunt, with some neat acting performances and moments of exquisitely-honed dialogue. Sure, the original concept reads like something from Fan Fiction, and I rather fear for the show's success as a result. After all, there can't be that vast an audience who have as intimate a knowledge of Austen's most beloved novel as this series appears to presume. In truth, though, Lost In Austen is mainly targeting viewers who have eagerly consumed the multiple filmic and TV adaptations of Austen's texts. Indeed, the show almost seems to parody, even subvert these adaptations, often to hilarious effect.

There are numerous echoes of the BBC's hugely successful and iconic 1995 production of Pride and Prejudice, which launched Colin Firth's Darcy as a major heart-throb, ranging from similar musical undertones to Amanda Price's quip, on considering her first meeting with Mr Darcy (Elliot Cowan), that he he's no Colin Firth, adding that even Colin Firth's no Colin Firth! Our first shot of Cowan's Darcy is surely another visual joke, as he is seen from behind, broodily staring out of a window at Netherfield Hall. Firth's Darcy was often shot in the same manner, signifying his desire to escape from the narrow-minded confines of the polite drawing-room into the sensual wilds of nature beyond the window-frame - clearly more representative of Andrew Davies, the screenwriter who penned the BBC adaptation, than Jane Austen herself.

The 2002 Working Title film, Pride and Prejudice, is also subtly parodied in Lost In Austen. Again, theme music often bears a distinct resemblance to Dario Marianelli's award-winning score which accompanied the film, and there are strong visual reminiscences.

Lost In Austen wallows unashamedly, with glorious gusto, in its status as Austen rip-off hypertext. Clearly influenced in terms of tone and sensibility by earlier adaptations, there is also a joyous, witting irreverence at play, which is carried off with considerable verve and brio by an excellent cast. Hugh Bonneville as a suitably droll Mr 'Claude' Bennet is exceptional, and he nabs the best lines. Alex Kingston plays his shrill wife, with her notoriously nervous temperament. This Mrs Bennet has a tough-as-nails interior, and gives short shrift to Amanda Price's interloping presence. The Bennet girls are nicely cast, especially Mary, who is almost comically plain. The skittish Lydia (Perdita Weekes) actually resembles her mother, which is a neat bit of casting, as, arguably, Lydia and Mrs Bennet are closest in personality. Charlotte Lucas is brilliantly played here as smarmy and sceptical by Michelle Duncan. Meanwhile, Christina Cole takes on the snidey, 'villainess' role of Caroline Bingley, although I wonder if she might have made a better Jane, here played by Morvern Christie.

Elliot Cowan's Darcy is ridiculously smouldering and aristocratic, to almost comic degree, and Mr Bingley (Tom Mison) is charming and sweet with modern good looks. Unsurprisingly, our thoroughly postmodern heroine Amanda attracts Mr Bingley, thus complicating Austen's plot, where Bingley falls for Jane Bennet - and to make matters worse, a tipsy Amanda also snogs Bingley outside the assembly halls! It's all very, very silly, and hugely entertaining to boot. Another laugh-out-loud moment is when Amanda Price, convinced she is stumbled into a reality TV show (and who can blame her in the circumstances!) 'flashes' Lydia, who is more than a little taken aback.

Gemma Arterton, famously known in the media as the next Bond Girl, plays Elizabeth Bennet - so far little more than 'glimpsed' in Amanda Price's Hammersmith bathroom. We can expect much more, presumably, from her character, in later episodes, as we get to see the adventures of Elizabeth Bennet in the modern world.

Jemima Rooper's Amanda Price is fine enough, although for such a strong showing in most other departments (barring occasional jars in the scripting), Rooper is a slightly weak link. She has the unmistakeable looks and bearing of a 21st century girl - her face is wholly modern. But her acting occasionally borders on 'mugging.'

Even so, this is a fun piece of work, and I look forward to Amanda Price's further adventures in Austen-land.

A Tribute to the Joys of BBC Radio

2008-05-08T18:36:00.004+01:00

Back again.

It feels like a long time since I last posted here. And it is, though for good reasons I think. First, I have been looking after my lovely little baby girl, which has been wonderful. Second, and rather more sadly, my Mum fell ill, very ill, and passed away. So, caught between the two extremes - birth and death - blogging hasn't been a main priority.

Anyway. Like I said, I'm back now, and thinking to expand what I cover on this blog from TV and film through to novels and non-fiction. However, my primary mode of media 'consumption' has been Radio 4 podcasts and BBC Radio's 'Listen Again' function.

I have long been a podcast fan - especially Radio Five's film reviews with the Good Doctor, Mark Kermode - but am now addicted to Radio 4's 'Start The Week' with Andrew Marr, which I always used to miss! Never again ... . I also listen to 'Thinking Allowed', which covers a diverse and eclectic range of topics, 'Front Row's weekly catch-up, Mayo's Book Review panel from Radio Five, 'Composer of the Week' and 'Music Matters' from Radio 3 and the archives of Radio 4's 'In Our Time' (I'll confess I was already addicted to this), and 'Open Book', with 'Book Club' once a month, thrown in for good measure.

Of course, if it wasn't for the long time spent sitting around when feeding a baby, and the joys of broadband connectivity, I doubt I'd be so hooked. Maybe it's a feature of getting older too? When I was younger, I was music-oriented only in my radio listening habits, apart from sport on Five Live. But now I find the 'talkie' stuff most compelling of all. There's something very intimate about radio, and of course, with a laptop or radio to hand, there's the bonus of portability too. I also prefer juicy debate in this format, certainly compared to TV where less information seems to be imparted to us, because of the pressures of 'presentation.' Everything is bite-sized, easily digestible, and has to look good. Radio is much more immersive and there seems to be more 'time' to truly get to grips with a topic.

Anyway. I'm going to update this blog with three separate posts covering TV, Film and Books I've enjoyed or hated in 2008. It's not a particularly high calibre list in terms of intellectual prowess - mainly comfort viewing/reading.

The BBC's Cranford proves a triumph

2007-12-17T12:16:00.000Z

Well, having wept my way through the final episode of BBC1's Cranford last night, (I was deeply saddened at the death of Carter, one of my favourite characters), I felt I should write a few paragraphs of heartfelt praise for what has been one of the BBC's most successful and brilliant TV series.

I wasn't over-hopeful about the televising of Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford when it was first announced, even when supplemented by two of Gaskell's novellas, to ensure a little romance (Dr Harrison's troubled courtship of Sophie Hutton) and the moving redemptive arc presented by the story of arch-conservative Lady Ludlow and her relationship with her estate manager.

How wrong I was! First, the screenwriter who adapted Gaskell's works, should have inspired me with sufficient confidence. Heidi Thomas has proven to be one of our foremost writing talents with an increasingly illustrious CV, and Cranford was a highly worthy addition. Thomas's script here was delightfully fluid, cohesive and wonderfully witty. It was also replete with its fair share of moving moments, which often reduced me to a blubbering mess, at least twice per episode.

The second key factor in ensuring Cranford was one of the BBC's most brilliant outings was its extraordinary cast. Judi Dench made for a winsomely endearing Matty Jenkyns, but Cranford was typified by a strong supporting ensemble - hearteningly female-centric and often middle-aged or older. Special mention must go to Eileen Atkins, who was majestic in the role of Deborah Jenkyns - kindly, conservative and thoroughly uptight, a real bastion of Cranford's 'Amazonian' society - and Imelda Staunton was simply fabulous in the comic role of Miss Pole. Her hilarious 'double-take' when catching sight of Mr Holbrook's sewing table in Dr Harrison's drawing room in Episode Four was one of my favourite TV moments of all time. Julia McKenzie was also a welcome supporting comic character as Mrs Forester, and her speech in Episode Five, explaining her fondness for Miss Matty, was one of the most affecting moments in the entire series. Philip Glenister also put in a flawless performance as Carter, Lady Ludlow's estate manager, who is devoted to educating young Harry Gregson.

But it seems almost churlish to pick out any particular standout performances from such a wonderful cast. I cared about each and every character. Each and every storyline. Which is why, amidst the laughs and smiles prompted by so much of the narrative action, there was also so much potential for genuine poignancy and humanity. For example, Deborah Jenkyn's unexpected joining Jessie Brown behind her sister's coffin in Episode One, was such a moment, establishing this series, very quickly, as a classic in the making.

Cranford was equally adept at portraying charming, whimsical fun (for example, the hysterical sequence depicting Mrs Forest's cat eating her prized lace), with darker, heavyweight satire exploring a broad swathe of hot potato topics which dominated mid-Victorian society, including the education of the lower classes, rural poverty and lawlessness, gender roles, and the inexorable advent of modernity, as represented by the railway coming to Cranford and the utilisation of modern medicinal methods by young Dr Harrison.

These themes were all resonant of George Eliot's Middlemarch, which was set some twenty years earlier, and were strongly representative of Gaskell's own writing, which never shied away from the issues dogging her day. Mary Barton, for example, spotlights the trials and tribulations of the Chartist petitioners, while North and South offers a study of industrial unrest in Northern mill towns (notably via a fictionalised version of Manchester). In contrast, and at first glance, Cranford seems to provide a more benign view of society, focusing on the demure, regimented lives of the lady inhabitants of small town England. But this is deceptive. Gaskell is cleverly covering a whole range of topics, albeit with a soft, deft, ultimately feminine and arguably proto-feminist touch - a charge which would have likely horrified Gaskell herself. Still, Heidi Thomas's script has ensured that these issues are elicited, fleshed out, and given full rein in this production.

After the dismal period adaptations broadcast by ITV this year, it was enormously refreshing to finally relax and unwind in the company of a BBC masterclass, reveling in what has proven to be a highly satisfying and successful TV experience, judging by the ratings. Hopefully Heidi Thomas will be gainfully employed in adapting more literary works to screen, as she has taken what might have been viewed as tricky source material, most particularly in view of Cranford's notable lack of 'sexy romance', which is the preferred mainstay of most period drama on TV these days, and penned a classy, engaging narrative, which will endure as an example of one of the BBC's finest for many years to come.

More Downs than Ups with BBC's Fanny Hill

2007-11-17T20:06:00.000Z

I was genuinely pleased to see that the BBC were producing an adaptation of John Cleland’s bawdy 18th century novel, Fanny Hill. It made for a refreshing change from the typical cycle of Austen, Dickens and Bronte, which dominates the ‘classic’ text-to-screen adaptation genre on British TV.

This two-parter, commissioned specially for BBC 4, was scripted by the illustrious Andrew Davies – probably the best candidate to handle the risqué subject matter in view of his instinctual sensualisation of classic works – and was directed by James Hawes. Newcomer Rebecca Night was taking on the main role of Fanny Hill, a simple country girl forced through financial destitution to become a courtesan in 18th century London. But she was to be ably supported by a strong cast, including Alison Steadman as Mrs Brown, the owner of a house of ‘ill-repute’ while Samantha Bond played Mrs Coles, her classier rival. Hugo Speers played Mr H, one of Fanny’s lovers.

Unfortunately, this production didn’t quite match my high expectations. My primary difficulty with the piece was the lead actress. I found Rebecca Night’s performance as Fanny to be wooden and smug in equal measure. Some minor roles were similarly frustrating. However, Samantha Bond as Mrs Coles was very well-done and Hugo Speers’s Mr H was sufficiently compelling.

Some reviewers have focused on the sensual content of the mini-series, seeing it as unnecessarily sensationalist – ‘porn for Daily Mail readers’ was one rather amusing description I read. I hasten to disagree on this point actually. I think the series might have worked better if it was a little more sensual in its depiction of sexual activity rather than dourly mechanical. Even with much of the action taking place in brothels, the show lacked the lush, decadent vibe it really needed.

Scripting was fine, although I rarely welcome the Brechtian approach in TV drama, where the protagonist addresses us directly, in this instance as Fanny has recorded her past in her memoirs. Of course this approach was a direct take on the novel’s own structure, but it remains a narrative form I find uncomfortable viewing.

Clearly budgetary demands ensured a relatively narrow scope in terms of location choices and set design, but the show could have benefited from a wider geographical range rather than the few interior sets and extremely limited array of exteriors we were presented with. There was zero sense of Fanny having switched from the country to the hustle and bustle of London.

All in all, I’m glad to see the BBC attempting different ‘product’ to the usual fare. But this Fanny Hill lacked sparkle and verve and could have benefited from a stronger, central acting performance.

ITV's A Room With A View lacks sparkle

2007-11-05T09:04:00.000Z

It was a piece of inspired programming from FilmFour surely, to broadcast the 1985 Merchant Ivory version of EM Forster's A Room With A View, just hours before ITV unveiled its own, new adaptation of the much-loved tale, featuring the sensual awakening of young Edwardian Lucy Honeychurch amidst the lush glories of Italy. However, FilmFour's scheduling decision was a poor one for ITV, serving only to highlight the stark difference between the two films. The Merchant Ivory version, which virtually epitomises 1980s Heritage Cinema as a nostalgic, sunkissed fest of chocolate-box prettiness, is rendered an exquisite jewel beside this latest ITV offering, which sadly comes across as bland and depressing, despite some strenuous efforts to inject fresh relevancy and context.

First and foremost, this latest adaptation has been shot in a darker palette compared to the brilliant hues of its Merchant Ivory predecessor. This clearly ensures a more sombre, even melancholy tone, which pervades this production, further encapsulated by an invented framing device, offering us a flash-forwards to 1922 when Lucy Honeychurch returns, solo, to the pensione where she first met her future husband George Emerson. This device moves full-circle, bar a few intrusions into the main narrative, closing the film with Lucy revisiting the cornfield where she and George first kissed, accompanied by - of all people - the Italian coach-driver who first steered the young Lucy towards her lover.

Oddly, Lucy and driver picnic together, hand in hand, reminiscing, although there is an unexpected, even unwelcome romantic frisson between the two, rendered all the more peculiar by the scenes preceding this moment, fading Lucy and George's frenetic honeymoon lovemaking into a ghastly still of George, lifeless on the battlefields of WWI.

In this sense, screenwriter Andrew Davies has certainly wrought a clearcut change between the frothy but warm Merchant Ivory picture and this new version. It has been hailed in the press previews as closer to Forster's intent, but is in itself a deviation from the source. Forster made it clear in an afterword to his novel, that George was a conscientious objector in the war - itself a clear political message if one was genuinely being sought here by the ITV producers. As it stands, George's death seems strangely tacked-on and unnecessarily gloomy, even though, it is obvious that Davies and Nicholas Renton (the tele-film's director) are making a clear statement about the transient nature of the Edwardian fin-de-siecle period - the bucolic calm before the ghastly storm which was soon to embroil Europe, destroying life after life, cruelly ending a multiplicity of love affairs.

This ITV production also chose to make Reverend Mr Beebe's homosexuality a little more explicit by way of a snippet of a scene where Lucy spies Mr Beebe talking to a couple of Italian guys in a shady Florence alleyway - inferring that he is trying to pick them up. Although this scene is subtly rendered and certainly adds to Mr Beebe's characterisation, the moment is slightly ruined by Lucy's clear, though unspoken recognition of the significance of Mr Beebe's actions, as she then appears a lot more worldly wise than would have been the case.

In one other crucial way, the ITV production also differs from the Merchant Ivory film, in that the Emersons - George especially - are shown to be thoroughly lower in class and standing than the Honeychurchs and their ilk. This is an important distinction to make, because Lucy is concerned by her attraction to George, in large part because, in comparison to herself and her class, he is 'common' and works as a clerk for the railways. In the Merchant Ivory production, Julian Sands, while determinedly wooden in his acting abilities, certainly glowed with physical prowess and gilded good looks - appearing every inch the patrician, a far cry from Rafe Spall's cockney characterisation in the ITV production.

But yet again, despite ITV's best attempts to offer us some kind of veracity, a real insight into Lucy's fear of George, Spall's George is uninspiring and altogether charmless. This is a very real shame. In BBC 4's Wide Sargasso Sea, Rafe Spall made for a hugely charismatic young Rochester, but his appeal falters badly here. And as A Room With A View is, foremost, a love story, this failing is particularly affecting.

It doesn't seem fair to draw too many comparisons with the 1985 film in terms of actor choice per role - after all, each new adaptation should be taken as a fresh reading, a novel interpretation of the source material. But the Merchant Ivory film is so powerful a picture, comparisons are inevitable. On just about every level, the ITV tele-film falls short.

Sophie Thompson, for example, is a fine actress, but here, her take on Charlotte Bartlett, when compared to the inimitable Maggie Smith in 1985, is woeful. She stammers and giggles, a cross between her own version of Miss Bates in the 1996 Miramax adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma, and her comedic (and hugely successful) Mary Musgrove in the BBC's 1995 Persuasion (also Austen). As a consequence, her Charlotte Bartlett feels ill-defined and ineffectual.

Timothy Spall is another marvelous actor, but his Mr Emerson feels workmanlike and laboured when compared to Denholm Elliott. Judy Dench in 1985 also made for a better Miss Lavish, the breathlessly excited romantic novelist, compared to Sinead Cusack in 2007. And what was Elizabeth McGovern doing? She might as well have faxed in her performance in the role of Mrs Honeychurch.

For me, the greatest absence was Daniel Day-Lewis as Cecil Vyse - one of my favourite comic acting performances of all time. Sure, he was a parodic figure of fun, and Laurence Fox's latest version offers, arguably, more of a genuine romantic choice for Lucy. But, boy, was Day-Lewis missed! I could hardly bear to watch Fox. Rather than an effete, book-loving smarm, Fox came across as someone desperate to play a 'lad', and bore the air of someone who was injured, and therefore unable to play tennis with Freddie, rather than someone who would rather immerse himself in a book.

As for Lucy herself. Elaine Cassidy was absolutely fine in the role. She lacked the arch sweetness of Helena Bonham-Carter, but she acted rather than pouted, which could only be a good thing. Except ... I have actually grown a lot fonder of Bonham-Carter's stilted performance over the years - and now respect her acting talents too - but Cassidy certainly brought more innate drama to Miss Honeychurch. And yet I still missed the 1985 Lucy - buttoned-up and wide-eyed with surprise at the unexpected emotions roiling through her. In the ITV production, Cassidy was a little too shrewish, too sharp and far too knowing - especially sexually, as made evident by the blatant ogling between Lucy and George.

Nicholas Renton tried to demonstrate Lucy's rejection of overt sensuality in alternative ways. There is a prolonged sequence where she gawps at the naked forms of the classical statues thronging Florence's piazzas. The scene, which seems to be a direct smash and grab from Joe Wright's 2005 Pride and Prejudice, where Elizabeth Bennet finally confronts her erotic nature and her attraction to Darcy while gazing at naked statues, is intended to signify Lucy's own sensual awakening, which she then markedly rejects when she refuses to buy a postcard depicting the familiar naked form of Michelangelo's 'David'.

Overall, direction was perfectly serviceable, and there were a couple of noteworthy performances, in addition to Cassidy herself. Timothy West's pompous Reverend Eager was spot-on and Mark Williams was fine as Reverend Mr Beebe - a less hearty and rather more serious portrayal compared to Simon Callow's brash buffoonery in 1985, although there was a gently wrought sensitivity hovering just beneath the surface of Callow's Beebe which was enormously endearing.

Italy made for a lovely location of course, although this was a shadowy Florence and Santa Croce was remarkably devoid of crowds. Summer Street was a pleasantly pastoral English locale, and we lost London altogether, meaning we lost the delightful irony of Cecil smugly enticing the Emersons to Summer Street himself, after encountering them in the Italian art section of the National Gallery. We gained Rome, however, when Lucy and Charlotte visit the Vyses.

The 1985 film placed greater emphasis, it seemed, on the aesthetic qualities of Forster's work - both in a filmic, visual sense and also through its interpretation of the novel, stressing the difference between those characters that languished indoors - by extension more inward-looking, bookish and repressed - and those who ventured more outdoors, indicating a more forward, progressive nature, thrusting towards modernity rather than the past and tradition. The Emersons, Freddy and Lucy are shown to revel in the outdoors, and Lucy is peeved that propriety has cooped her inside more than she would like.

The 2007 version seemed to place less emphasis on this particular binary, focusing, laudably it should be said, on the class differences between the Emersons and the remaining cast (except the Italian coach-driver, although his inflated role only serves to enhance the theme of inter-class reconciliation). There is one particular scene where Miss Lavish and Charlotte Bartlett hoot with disdainful laughter at George Emerson's professional association with the railways. Their snobbery is unseemly, and Lucy herself is disgusted.

It is a shame that with so much wanting to be 'said' in this production, the sum of its parts is a letdown; a bland, slightly miserable potage. There is a melancholy mood throughout, which does little to engage the viewer, most especially as this sobriety isn't even juxtaposed with sunny, sensual warmth, which would have served to enhance the narrative's poignancy. The musical scoring from Gabriel Yared has been much-praised in reviews, but the plaintive piano pieces only added to the uneasy sense of melancholia in a way that depressed rather than enlightened.

It is unnerving that the sparkling technicolour Merchant Ivory production, glorying in its sentimentality and featuring the thrilling, resonating strains of Puccini's 'Chi Bel Sogno' from La Rondine as the lovers first kiss, is ultimately more poignant for me than ITV's darker, one-note production, which strives far too hard to emphasise that the much-fabled halycon pre-war days of Edwardian England were soon to draw to a horrific and shocking close with WWI. The glowing lustre of the Merchant Ivory production expressed this in less stark terms and without the unnecessary addition of George's staring corpse, abandoned in no-man's land, because the beauty that film captures is unreal, removed and wistful. Forever lost, because we know the 20th century was a brutal place, a cruel time, and that the sharp pangs of nostalgia we experience are ultimately for something that was never really there.

Please sir, must we REALLY have some more?

2007-10-30T14:30:00.002Z

So we have yet another Oliver Twist coming to our screens this Winter. The BBC is set to broadcast a new version of Charles Dickens's well-loved tale starring newcomer William Millar as Oliver, Timothy Spall as Fagin and Tom Hardy as the pyschopathic Sykes with Sophie Okonedo as poor Nancy. The five-part series has been penned by Sarah Phelps, who is best-known for her work on Eastenders, while Coky Giedroyc, who directed Elizabeth: The Virgin Queen, takes the helm.

But do we really need more Oliver Twist? There are plentiful other 'classic' novels to adapt to screen ... so why the paltry lack of imagination?

Clearly this is seen as wholesome, on-message family viewing with a heart of gold; a re-working of a familiar, well-loved tale. However, a truly searing, realistic version of Oliver Twist , which offered an unflinching portrayal of the despicable cruelties and craven hypocrisies of the Victorian era, would probably prove to be wholly unpalatable to the family audiences TV broadcasters hope to entice. Dickens certainly intended Oliver Twist to expose the crass indecencies and misfortunes inflicted on children at the heart of his society. Sure, he over-sentimentalised his subject (as was his wont), but this was nothing compared to the sanitised saccharine-sweetness which has sugar-coated almost every televisual/filmic outing of the novel ever since. Let's hope the BBC's promises (as stipulatd in the corporation's press release) for a 'darkly thrilling' production with a 'modern edge', lives up to its hype.

Confession ...

2007-10-30T13:44:00.000Z

... I am absolutely loving The Tudors, the Showtime import currently airing on BBC2. OK, I know it's high-blown, ridiculous nonsense, riddled with historical inaccuracies and dogged by some egregious acting, most particularly from the otherwise insanely delectable Jonathan Rhys Meyers playing King Henry VIII. But what a hoot!

I can't help loving it, even though in Episode Four, we have just had the nonsensical re-casting of Henry's sister 'Mary Rose' as 'Margaret' (ensuring an amalgamation of both Henry's sisters, including the historically vital Princess Margaret who wed James IV of Scotland) who is dispatched to marry the decrepit and infirm King of Portugal, when in reality, she married the King of France. And then, at the close of the episode, Princess 'Margaret' proceeds to suffocate the ailing king with a pillow! In truth, 'Mary Rose' was reputed to have danced her old king to death, wearing him out with her youth and vitality ... but a murderer?? It's an absurdly crazy notion, but completely in keeping with the high-blown silliness we have come to expect from this TV series.

Of course, I am unabashedly tuning in for the eye candy. Jonathan Rhys Meyers is extremely easy on the eye, and luckily the producers have managed to get him 'out' of his shirt as much as possible. Similarly eye-catching is young Henry Cavill as Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, who steals Princess 'Margaret's' heart, while escorting her to her political marriage in Portugal. Brandon did indeed fall for Princess 'Mary Rose', and they (eventually) made for a happily handsome married couple, once her first husband had been danced to his grave.

I'm not sure of Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn. She's a little too chocolate-box and less arch and witty than how I envisage the real Anne. But I love Maria Doyle Kennedy as poor, downtrodden Katherine of Aragon. Sam Neill is good value as always as Cardinal Wolsey, and it was good to see James Frain, a terrific actor, entering the fray in Episode Four as Thomas Cromwell.

I'm rather hoping The Tudors can continue for a fair few series to come. There's an awful lot of mileage in that particular dynasty ... the reign of Henry VIII alone is enormously eventful.

Michael Hirst is the creator/writer of this series. He is well-known for penning Shekhar Kapur's exotically sumptuous Elizabeth, with Cate Blanchett resplendent in the title role and Geoffrey Rush excellent as her conniving adviser Walsingham. Elizabeth was recently aired on Channel Four and was definitely worth a (re)-watch, if only for the extremely moving final 20 minutes, when the young queen realises her fate - the political need to forgo her personal desires and humanity in favour of becoming a hallowed virginal icon instead; effectively a PR hologram, to be marketed as the divine, omniscient and quick-witted ruler, almost a self-parody, rather than a real-life flesh and blood woman.

Sure enough, the scripting and the direction in Elizabeth are clearly targeting a fun-seeking postmodern audience, hoping to accrue maximum cultural capital at minimum cost to the old grey matter and/or personal comfort, and history has been reshaped accordingly. But as with The Tudors, Elizabeth is not trying to push itself as a historically accurate tele-document - farcical as such a notion could ever be. The aim is to entertain foremost, and this is definitely achieved.

The success of The Tudors has led me to believe that a cracking TV series could be formed out of yet another formidably exciting period of England's history - The War of the Roses, which encompasses numerous personal rivalries, wars, battles and love affairs stemming from Edward III's reign through to Henry VIII's own father and the final de facto 'victor', Henry VII. Indeed, I'm of a mind to plot out a script myself!

A Room With A View to air on ITV on Nov 4th

2007-10-30T13:09:00.000Z

ITV's adaptation of EM Forster's A Room With A View is set to air November 4th, on ITV1 at 9.00pm. The trailer looks promising enough - lots of high drama and high octane kissing action, but definitely darker than the famous 1985 Merchant Ivory version, which launched Helena Bonham-Carter's acting career. I loved the earlier film, despite its being a piece of frothy, nostalgic whimsy, set in sun-soaked Edwardian England and a gloriously luminous Italy, and even with an abysmal Julian Sands as Lucy Honeychurch's young love interest, George Emerson - the eponymous Merchant Ivory 'heritage' film. Almost defining a genre unto itself.

I'm looking forward to Elaine Cassidy in the main role. She is a very fine actress, if a little older than I would have hoped for the youthful Lucy. I especially loved her work in the BBC adaptation of Sarah Walter's Fingersmith. Rafe Spall should make for an interesting George Emerson, and I look forward to seeing his real-life father Timothy Spall playing his fictional father too. I particularly welcome Sophie Thompson, a splendid actress, in the role of Aunt Charlotte. (Although she has a lot to do to face off the wonderful Maggie Smith).

In truth, this version really needs to give it some welly to face off the 1985 version, which never fails to delight.

The ITV production has Andrew Davies as the screenwriter (no surprises there) and Nicholas Renton directing.

Hello again ...

2007-10-16T14:58:00.000+01:00

Long, long time no write - but I do have a valid excuse, as I have had a baby and been a little preoccupied, to say the least!

Anyway, I now have lots of little news items to catch up on, as it looks like a heavyweight viewing season is coming our way this Autumn.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: REVIEW

2007-08-29T00:09:00.000+01:00

Finally … a long overdue review of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (‘Phoenix’), directed by David Yates, which was released mid-July.

This was yet another resounding commercial success for Warner Brothers, although there didn’t seem to be the same ‘buzz’ for this movie as others in the series – partly perhaps because publishers were poised to release the final long-awaited installment of JK Rowling’s septology, and partly I think because Phoenix was one in a long line of what has felt like chronic sequelitis this Summer.

I enjoyed this particular outing of the Harry Potter franchise more than any other movie in the series bar one – Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, directed by Alfonso Cuaron, which remains the high point of the series and is an outstanding movie in its own right.

Phoenix’s director David Yates has a hugely respectable career in TV. Indeed, State of Play (2003) and the Trollope adaptation, The Way We Live Now (2001), are, to my mind, two of the best televisual experiences of the decade. Warner Brothers gambled, to some extent, on Yates. Phoenix is his first major Hollywood movie – and boy, what a baptism of fire, taking on one of the world’s best-known and best-loved heroes (Harry), orchestrating the cream of Britain’s acting talent, and handling a blockbuster budget.

Yates copes admirably well, truly rising to the challenge. Phoenix is a superbly crafted film, darkly atmospheric, successfully relaying the often convoluted narrative of Rowling’s rather bloated source with concision and style.

Indeed, Michael Goldenberg, the screenwriter in this instance, deserves kudos for tackling Rowling’s rather over-stuffed novel, adapting it into a manageable 138 minutes, without us losing any of the substance or flavour of the original.

In many respects, this novel out of all of Rowling’s Potter instalments, was probably the most suited to Yates’s talents. There are strong political overtones resonant throughout, as the Ministry of Magic exerts quasi-fascistic controls over the wizarding world, most especially at Hogwarts, the school of magic attended by Harry Potter and his cohorts.

The primary focal point for this statist repression is Dolores Umbridge – to my mind Rowling’s most fearsome villain barring none. She is the classic everyday baddie who dogs everyone’s day to day lives, using the rulebook as an excuse for exercising excessive power. Indeed, she revels in wielding power for its own sake.

In Phoenix, Umbridge is portrayed with supreme nastiness by Imelda Staunton – one of Britain’s finest actresses. She sports cuddly pink cardigans and her office wall is festooned with meowing decorative plates featuring cuddly little kittens. But she is a vile, inhumane creature, prepared to torture Harry – who is notably still a minor – with a punishing quill, which etches whatever is written into the writer’s skin. Harry is subjected to an eye-watering detention where he must write one hundred lines using this same pen. It is a chilling scene, well portrayed in this movie, representing what is in fact a more prolonged period of torture in Rowling’s novel.

However, in Phoenix it is Voldemort, played here by Ralph Fiennes, who emerges as the scariest villain of all. This was an interesting reversal on the novel. Indeed, Voldemort, in my opinion, is one of the weakest links in Rowling’s series. But in Yates’s film he takes on a new and frightening dimension, most especially in one invented scene, where Harry is convinced he sees him, in ‘Muggle’ clothing, watching him at Kings Cross Station.

Credit must surely go to Fiennes too. He often plays smooth gentlemanly types, and it is all too easy to forget his star turn as the psychopathic Nazi Amon Goeth in Schindler’s List, where he emanated real, stomach-churning evil. He carries this same sinister sense into Voldemort – although notably not in the Mike Newell-directed Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which was a real mess of a film.

Similarly impressive in the baddie department was Jason Isaacs, playing the wondrously unctuous and pernicious Lucius Malfoy. Sadly we only get a brief outing of Isaacs’s considerable talents during a climactic Ministry of Magic sequence, when Harry and his loyal troupe of teenie friends (known here as Dumbledore’s Army) are forced into a terrifying confrontation with Voldemort’s ‘Deatheaters’ – masked enforcers of his dark magic and strong proponents of his racist drive for ‘pureblood’ supremacy in the wizarding world.

Meanwhile Helena Bonham-Carter makes for a delightfully insane Bellatrix Lestrange. Her wild Gothicism is such a far cry from the demure English miss of 1980s heritage cinema. She truly has become one of Britain’s cinematic treasures.

As for the remaining cast. Much has been made of Daniel Radcliffe’s improved acting skills in the role of Harry Potter (most particularly since his famous debut on the London stage in Peter Schaffer’s Equus), and there is much to be said here for how Radcliffe carries Potter’s intense psychological journey in Phoenix with considerable aplomb.

His supporting star and best mate in the narrative, Ron Weasley, is played again by Rupert Grint. I have harboured doubts over Grint’s acting abilities. I positively loathed his constant mugging and jaw-dropped gawps in the earlier films, but he has matured splendidly.

The same cannot be said, however, for Emma Watson, who plays Hermione Granger, who seems to closely adhere to the Keira Knightley ‘Wooden’ school of acting; forced, shrill, over-emotional, ridiculously posh, emitting this strange little panting sob whenever she is required to emote, or indeed, act – it was most disturbing. This is such a pity, because to my mind, in Cuaron’s Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Watson was the finest of the trio, by some distance. I genuinely thought she had the acting chops to outshine her co-stars. But both here, and in the immediately preceeding Potter film, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Newell, 2005), she has faltered badly.

The remaining cast turn in solid performances, however fleeting, which is so often the case with these action-packed films, seemingly over-stuffed with characters. However, mention must be made of Evanna Lynch, the young Irish actress who has taken on the role of loopy Luna Lovegood. Her scenes with Harry are intensely touching, the emotional highlights of the film, excepting a moving collage of flashbacks experienced by Harry, when he fights off Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic, and all seems lost.

The film itself boasts strong cinematography, retaining the darker palette now commonly associated with the Potter franchise. The opening sequences are particularly impressive, depicting a Dementor attack on Harry and his obnoxious cousin Dudley. I always relish the times in Potter movies when the magic world intrudes upon the ‘muggle’ world, and this is no exception. Yates excels at this spot of grim social realism – in this case a gloomy, graffitied underpass – and this, as a consequence, is the strongest section of the entire film.

I also enjoyed the scenes set in the Ministry of Magic, although the final duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore was a little too focused on close-ups, and could have fared well with wider visual exposition. Also, the emphatic moment when Sirius falls through the ‘veil’ was a little underwhelming.

Similarly, the CGi inclusion of Hagrid’s giant brother Grawp in the Forbidden Forest, adds little to proceedings.

We also see 12, Grimmaud Place, Sirius’s home and the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It is a grimy, miserable old house, and the inclusion of Sirius’s mean-spirited house elf Kreacher, adds a little bit of black humour to proceedings. However, the film omits the shrieking, abusive portrait of Mrs Black, Sirius’s long-dead mother, which was something of a loss I felt in terms of her potential comic value.

Despite these failings, this is the second best film in the Potter franchise to date, offering a strong, coherent plot and Yates notably deploys some neat little cinematic touches: a flashback montage and the use of the Daily Prophet as a transition device.

Even so, it lacks the soul and magic, the cinematic artistry, of Cuaron’s earlier film, but it is a strong calling card for Yates’s obvious directorial talents.

Having said that, I am a little disappointed that Yates is taking on the sixth novel in the series, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This is partly because I rather like the idea of each film being directed by someone different, bringing their own ideas and personality to the mix. However, I am also unconvinced that the plot material will suit Yates’s more politicised sensibilities.

To my mind, the sixth novel is the weakest in the series, (I also dislike Book Four). Sure, it has a dark underpinning – Dumbledore’s death and Voldemort/Riddle’s back-story – but it is the frothiest, most hormonal of all the novels, and this, I think, will not fare well in Yates’s hands. The romantic histrionics will also lead to even more egregious acting from Emma Watson I fear. And I am also concerned that the strong focus on Draco Malfoy, will mean an abundance of Tom Felton, who is not the strongest actor in the series, in my opinion.

Perhaps Yates will coax career-best performances from his bright, young stars – I certainly hope so, especially in Felton’s case, as Draco’s subplot was to my mind the most gripping and emotional aspect of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Draco was rendered a truly intriguing character, with plentiful room for further development, and I was hugely disappointed that Draco’s role was not substantially enhanced in the final book in the series.

In sum, Yates’s directorial handling here is slick and competent, ensuring an enjoyable if slightly uninspiring film. For certain Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix has not lodged in my mind as particularly memorable, unlike the glorious third movie in the franchise from Alfonso Cuaron. But this was definitely one of the highlights of the Summer blockbuster season, although bested with effortless ease by Paul Greengrass’s high octane thriller The Bourne Ultimatum.

Preview available for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix soundrack

2007-06-17T11:52:00.001+01:00

www.soundtrack.net has released its preview of Nicholas Hooper's score for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, due for release July 13th, although the score will be for sale from July 10th.

Listening to the mini-clips at www.soundtrack.net, this sounds like a highly accomplished score, which seems to mesh well with the mood of the original novel I feel. I especially liked the clips for the tracks: Professor Umbridge, Possession and The Ministry of Magic.

There's the usual reference to Hedwig's Theme by John Williams, without which no Harry Potter score would be complete of course.

Hooper is well-known for collaborating with director David Yates.

Davies set to adapt erotic thriller for ITV

2007-05-30T15:53:00.000+01:00

Andrew Davies must be the busiest writer in Britain. ITV has commissioned him to pen an adaptation of the modern, erotic thriller Sleep with Me by Joanna Briscoe, according to MediaGuardian. The two-part mini-series will be produced by Independent Clerkenwell Films. Davies is also working on a tele-film adaptation of EM Forster's A Room with a View for ITV, due to air in 2008.

Davies has also been busy scripting productions for the BBC. These include Sense and Sensibility, yet another Austen adaptation, set to air this Autumn, plus Fanny Hill, John Cleland's racy 18th century novel, which is to be broadcast on BBC4. Davies is also reported to be working on a new BBC series of Dicken's Little Dorrit, emulating the soap opera style of the highly successful Bleak House, and is also to pen a single 90-minute drama of James Hawes's Speak for England, to air on BBC2.

Coppola's Marie Antoinette proves to be a feast for the senses

2007-05-30T14:54:00.000+01:00

Here's a little something I've been meaning to write for some time now. I wanted to record my huge appreciation of Sofia Coppola's mesmerising Marie Antoinette.

I simply adored this film. Most unexpectedly.

I fervently wish I'd caught it at the cinema - such a lustrous, richly visual spectacle probably deserved nothing less. But I had to make do with a DVD and my widescreen television, fed through speakers to do some justice at least to the wonderful soundtrack.

I also loved Coppola's Lost in Translation and her earlier work, The Virgin Suicides. Which must mean, I guess, that Coppola's aesthetic style appeals to me. There is a stillness, a silence almost, at the heart of her films - even when your screen is a riot of colour and activity - which I find intensely moving. I also love her focus on strong female protagonists, and by strong, that doesn't mean kickass 'Xena' warrior princess-types - but complex, multi-layered women, whose feelings you can't help but engage with.

Scarlet Johansson was a splendid Coppola heroine in Lost in Translation, capturing that slightly aloof yet densely textured Coppolaesque 'essence' for want of a better phrase. I harboured doubts about Kirsten Dunst in the title role as Marie Antoinette. I'm not a great fan of Dunst, even though I enjoyed her in Coppola's The Virgin Suicides.

In fact, for much of Marie Antoinette, I even wondered if Dunst had bitten off more than she could chew. She seemed so ill at ease, so lost in it all, overwhelmed ... and then it struck me that she was absolutely perfect for the role, capturing Marie Antoinette's own lost, lonely sense of alienation, her necessity to seal herself away in a lush, consumerist dreamworld - a fantasia which was to cost her dearly.

Indeed, Marie Antoinette's excessive purchasing habits, her debauched lifestyle, were splendidly portrayed here. As was the opulent grandeur and sumptuous ritual of life at Versailles.

Other performances worth mentioning include Jason Schwartzman as Marie's sexually awkward husband Louis XVI, Steve Coogan as Marie's Austrian compatriot Ambassador Mercy (their final parting was particularly poignant), Shirley Henderson as Aunt Sophie and Rose Byrne as the scandalous, vivacious Duchesse de Polignac.

I had no qualms with the plethora of American accents, with the liberties taken with historical veracity, with the tumbling juxtaposition of historicities with brash 80s pop music. Indeed, the music was a highlight. I especially loved the usage of Siouxsie and the Banshee's Hong Kong Gardens, complete with violin intro, and I loved how the disconsolate melancholy of The Cure was used in the closing credits, capturing the sense of tragedy which pervades the closing stages of the film - indeed, there is a haunting melancholic undertow throughout. We all know how it ends, even though Coppola chooses to close the action with the King and Queen quitting Versailles for the very last time.

Music is such a powerful sensory weapon in the director's arsenal and Sofia Coppola proves she has an expert ear.

All in all, this was one of my favourite filmic experiences for some time. I am disappointed that Marie Antoinette didn't receive particularly positive critical feedback. Nor was it a box office sensation. Far from it. But this is an assured and moving piece of work from a hugely talented director.

Becoming a Fan of Fan Fiction: Exploring Red Eye fandom

2007-05-22T00:51:00.000+01:00

Apologies for not updating in a while. Life has been a hectic whirl.

I have also been exploring the wonderful world of 'fan fiction', with a view to writing a research paper on the subject, which is proving to be more fascinating than I could possibly have imagined! I'll jot down a few ideas on the subject for this blog in the next few days.

I'll also admit I have been inspired to write a 'fanfic' myself! It started out as an 'exercise' - almost as research - but I have become increasingly embroiled in my 'work', which is likely to take on novel-size dimensions if I'm not too careful. If you fancy a laugh, my 'fanfic' is called The Real Deal and can be found at www.fanfiction.net, under the Movies category, sub-category 'Red Eye.'

Oh yes. I did say 'Red Eye'!! Not the most taxing, subversive piece of cinema to emerge in the last decade, granted. But a fabulous little genre-flick in my opinion - sheer unadulterated (guilty?) entertainment. What I have found fascinating about the Red Eye fandom is the overwhelming number of female fans. Of course fan fiction does seem to be dominated by women - this is quite noticeable actually, and is a topic worth exploring further in its own right - but what makes these fans so interesting, is their adherence to the idea of a passionate romantic pairing between the two leads in Red Eye, Lisa Reisert and the cold-blooded assassin Jackson Rippner, who tries to kill Lisa but winds up almost dead himself by the end of the film. This is NOT a romantic film. But it has spawned a plethora of romantic, and often pretty darn sexy fan fiction! There is, of course, undeniable sexual chemistry between the two leads, which is obviously unexplored by the film's core narrative, which focuses on its key generic functions as a thriller.

And it is because there is a 'gap' in the narrative, based on this unresolved chemistry - despite, and almost because of the dark S&M overtones that are expressed in the movie itself - we now have a small but fervent fan culture, which is devoted to further exploring the dynamics of this relationship. It is the stuff of fantasy of course - a guilty pleasure too in some respects, as the nature of the pairing is based to some extent on power, control and violence.

Of course the sexual tension between the two stars is ramped up considerably by the fact that both actors are no small beer in the looks department. Rachel McAdams is edibly luscious, while Cillian Murphy is blessed with unique good looks and chilling blue eyes. If Lisa and Jackson had been lumpy and drab, there would be no Red Eye fan fiction, I can guarantee it. (And likely no movie in the first place, all considered).

What makes Red Eye interesting too is the characterisation of Lisa, the heroine, who proves to be tenacious, kickass and indomitable - and completely underestimated by the smooth-talking psycho Jackson. Many fanfics have further evolved Lisa's hardball attitude, while others have reveled more in portraying her as passive to Jackson's tough guy dominance. Jackson himself is almost always 'redeemed' in some form or other, because, yup, you guessed it, because of the power of love and his idolising of Lisa, his perfect match.

My ongoing fanfic is focusing on Lisa's POV. Yes there will be romance (there IS that chemistry thing going on, it can't be denied), but rather than Jackson taking the initiative throughout, I have decided to cast Lisa as a 'detective', determined to uncover the truth about Jackson, his past, his persona, his work, his true identity &c. And I'll admit I'm enjoying every minute of it, although I've got a lot of plot still to get through (I've mapped out a large and convoluted story!). I'm a little scared actually how easy and enjoyable it is to write brute violence, and have been forced to edit my own work before publishing it online! I'm sure (or at least I'm hoping) that it must be a cathartic experience!

Gatiss to play Edwardian dandy spy in adaptation of own thriller

2007-04-27T12:20:00.000+01:00

Mediaguardian reports that Mark Gatiss's The Vesuvius Club, published 2004, is set to be adapted by Gatiss for the BBC, and will star comedy actor Gatiss in the lead role as Lucifer Box, an Edwardian portrait painter with a taste for espionage. If successful, a followup would be likely, adapting The Devil in Amber, and subsequently the third novel in the Lucifer Box trilogy, which Gatiss is currently writing.

Dickens fest at the BBC in 2008

2007-04-27T12:10:00.000+01:00

Apparently the BBC is set to bring yet ANOTHER adaptation of Oliver Twist to our TV screens, according to The Stage. The new Oliver Twist is due to start filming this Summer and air next year. Coky Giedroyc (The Virgin Queen) will direct. It seems likely the adaptors will take a traditional approach to this ever-popular tale, according to comments from costume designer Amy Roberts, who told The Stage that the producer has warned 'that we have to be aware of the fact people love the story and will want an old friend.'

I can't say I'm jumping for joy at this news. How many Oliver Twists do we actually need? We had the Roman Polanski film in 2005, and two TV versions in 1997 and 1999. Plus, plenty more before then!

More exciting I feel is the upcoming Andrew Davies's adaptation of Little Dorrit (also Dickens of course) which is set to air next Autumn, and is due to be televised as a soap opera, in the same manner as the BBC's hugely successful Bleak House.

What went wrong with Austen adaptations?

2007-04-18T11:32:00.000+01:00

Briefly reflecting on the debacle that was the ITV Jane Austen season - excusing to a slight extent their version of Northanger Abbey - I am bewildered at what seems to be a dramatic decline in quality text-to-screen adaptations of works by Jane Austen. For sure, the ITV adaptations were very much a step backwards, after what can only be described as an illustrious era for Austen adaptation in the 1990s.

I recently re-watched the 1995 Sense and Sensibility and was shocked at the difference in class between this twelve year old film and the recent ITV adaptations. OK, I realise that Sense and Sensibility was a cinematic film with a much larger production budget, and a a more impressive slate of acting talent on board to boot, but the differences went deeper. There was a genuine attempt to 'interpret' Austen's text, to offer a fresh reading of her work. This was apparent in both Emma Thompson's script, which utilised, for example, an embellished characterisation of young Margaret Dashwood to express rebellious feminine sentiment, and also in Ang Lee's extraordinarily beautiful and strongly-crafted direction, as throughout the production he strives to recreate scenes from 'Vermeer'. Everything about this film is pitch-perfect - something I have only come to realise in recent years, most noticeably in contrast to other Austen adaptations.

In that same year of course, we also had the BBC's famous Pride and Prejudice, which rejuvenated the period drama genre and is still a top-selling BBC product worldwide. And we also had, from BBC Films, a filmic version of Persuasion, which is superior in every department to ITV's latest, and lesser, offering. Again, this film actually had something to say. Nick Deare and Roger Michel (an enormously talented director) offered us a grittier, rain-sodden Persuasion, suffused with wistful emotion, never shying from the mental cruelties inflicted on poor Anne. The dialogue, the direction, all were handled deftly, smartly, and the acting performances were top-notch throughout.

The following two years witnessed an Emma-fest: two versions directly transposed from Austen's novel, and another, Clueless from Amy Heckerling, offering us a modern-day translation of the action to 'chichi' Beverley Hills. Clueless was especially impressive, but the two 'Emmas' were both 100% superior to the recent ITV fare - and notably the 1997 Kate Beckinsale version of Emma, with a script from Andrew Davies, was itself an ITV production. Again though, it had something to say. There was a genuine attempt to instill a sense of context to the narrative action, with scenes inserted which showed us the rustic poor of Highbury. Servants too were highlighted, ensuring we could never avoid an awareness of how the gentry of Regency England were able to live their lives of elegant ease. The Hollywood Emma starring Gwyneth Paltrow, was a little more pastiched than parodic, but was an exercise in delightful, aesthetically pleasing filmmaking, all the same.

Unlike many Austen fans, I also enjoyed Patricia Rozema's Mansfield Park in 1999. This adaptation really did have an awful lot to say - too much for some, who felt Rozema's wild deviations from the original text were an 'adaptation' too far. I disagree with this approach (although I can understand the sentiments expressed), because I like to see texts re-interpreted, re-created, in new and exciting ways. This was also a visually pleasing film, well thought-out, nicely acted.

There has been little to cheer in the field of Austen adaptation since then. Working Title's Pride and Prejudice (2005) was easy on the eye and pleasing in many departments, but it lacked substance. As for ITV's lacklustre offerings, these were frankly depressing. These were lazy adaptations, with little to nothing to say. They were adaptation for adaptation's sake - a crude attempt to accrue cultural capital for the ITV channel, better noted for its populist fare. I have higher hopes for the BBC's Sense and Sensibility, airing this Autumn, partly because Andrew Davies is at the helm (screenwriting), and unlike many, I strongly approve of his adaptation skills. Of course there have been some duds along the way (to be expected in a career as long and productive as Davies's), but he has also brought us some of TV's best adaptations, including Bleak House (2005), The Way We Live Now (2001) and Pride and Prejudice (1995).

So what has changed in the field of Austen adaptation? Why is mediocrity the order of the day? Is this a problem with text-to-screen adaptation in general (a more involved and contentious debate of course)? Or is there something awry with TV and Filmmaking? (Even more contentious!).

Certainly there appears to be less attempt, with recent Austen adaptations, to re-interpret the source text, to say something new and different. Is this because we are Austen-ed out? I can't quite see this - there are multiple schools of critical thought alive to her literary texts, why can't this be replicated in the world of TV and Cinema drama? Or, is it the fault of over-commodification of the Austen 'brand'? There is thus no need to 'challenge' audiences who are seeking simple entertainment and easily digestible cultural capital, rather than seeking out fresh and illuminating narrative experiences (or so the TV/Film-makers would presume). Worryingly, the standards of 'aesthetic' filmaking appear to have dropped dramatically (excusing Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice, which is a literal visual feast of a film). Arguably, of course, ITV simply cannot 'do' period drama - it lacks an eye for the genre, although not all BBC adaptations have been as adventurous and slick in their production values as, for example, the corporation's triumphant Bleak House in 2005 - which to my mind remains the benchmark in quality adaptation.

Sense and Sensibility casting update

2007-04-18T11:17:00.000+01:00

IMDB now has details of the full cast list for the BBC's upcoming Sense and Sensibility, due to air this Autumn.

Elinor Dashwood - Hattie Morahan
Marianne Dashwood - Charity Wakefield
Mrs Dashwood - Janet McTeer
Margaret Dashwood - Lucy Boynton
John Dashwood - Mark Gatiss
Fanny Dashwood - Claire Skinner
Mrs Ferrars - Jean Marsh
Edward Ferrars - Dan Stevens
Willoughby - Dominic Cooper
Colonel Brandon - David Morrissey
Sir John Middleton - Mark Williams
Mrs Jennings - Linda Bassett
Miss Steele - Daisy Haggard
Mr Harris (the doctor) - Damien Thomas

I am presuming that 'Miss Steele' is Lucy, and not her sister, and notably there is no casting mentioned yet for the Palmers, Lady Middleton or Robert Ferrars.

Overall this looks a relatively strong cast. I don't know of either actress taking on Elinor and Marianne. I am most interested in seeing Dan Stevens as Edward Ferrars - excellent casting there I think - and although David Morrissey does not stand out for me as an ideal Colonel Brandon, he is an actor I have huge respect for, and can imagine him making any role his own. I also enjoy Mark Williams, and think he'll bring a pleasantly comedic edge to John Middleton.

In other details, we learn this series will be a three-parter (180 mins) and is being directed by John Alexander whose trade has been plied almost exclusively in TV, including two Series One episodes of the BBC's hit series Life on Mars. Andrew Davies is penning the screenplay, amidst claims that this will be the 'sexed-up' version of Sense and Sensibility. Of course we always get this familiar little dance before any Davies adaptation, which almost always ends up being very chaste and sweet, a far cry from the frenzied sex-fest we are always being promised (unfortunately).

Cranford casting news

2007-04-02T21:36:00.000+01:00

According to www.tmcnet.com, Eileen Atkins, Michael Gambon, Lesley Manville, Alex Etel and Andrew Buchan (a big favourite on this blog!) have been cast in the BBC's forthcoming adaptation of Gaskell's Cranford Chronicles. (Thanks for the anonymous tip on this one, BTW).

Only half-persuaded by ITV's Persuasion

2007-04-02T13:57:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the late posting of this review - I have been plagued by technical gremlins all day!

What a shame …. ITV’s Persuasion started out so promisingly, but in its ‘bold’ attempt to differentiate itself from its (superior) 1995 BBC predecessor, this version was rendered something of a hodge-podge.

What I find most concerning in Adaptation, is where a production is clearly ‘unmotivated’- in the sense that the over-arching directorial vision, is not pertaining to some key new reading of the source text, which might perhaps offer us a fresh, even challenging new perspective. But huge changes are wrought nevertheless – and for no clear, apparent purpose.

This was most definitely the case with ITV’s Persuasion, which did not seem to have any specific interpretative steer in the hands of screenwriter Simon Burke or director Adrian Shergold.

Indeed, the primary focus of this production – and the same can be said perhaps of the ITV’s Billie Piper-starring Mansfield Park which opened the ITV Jane Austen season – appeared to be the casting of the main female protagonist. Producer David Snodin has commented that recruiting Sally Hawkins to play Anne Elliot was the most important first step in this adaptation, and that everything else was then built around her. Securing Hawkins, who is one of our greatest up and coming actresses, was undeniably a coup. As was signing up Spooks star Rupert Penry-Jones as her love interest Captain Frederick Wentworth, the man Anne refused eight years previous, based on faulty advice, but she has loved him ever since, and regrets that fateful decision.

Certainly both actors have rewarded the Persuasion production team with fine, nuanced performances - although Hawkins's Anne, while capturing her maturity and sensitivity, is a little more passive than I expected. However, from an utterly shallow perspective, Penry-Jones makes for a very fetching Austen hero.

But other acting performances were far less assured. Amanda Hale as Anne’s irritating sister Mary Musgrove, was particularly strange, seeming to combine a very third-rate impression of Sophie Thompson, who made for a much better Mary in the BBC’s 1995 Persuasion, mixed with the odd physical quirks and mannerisms of Julie Walters’s Mrs Overall from Acorn Antiques. Meanwhile, Sam Hazeldine who played Mary’s long-suffering husband Charles, tried to play this for laughs, and failed abominably. (It’s wrong of course to keep comparing this adaptation with its BBC predecessor, but Simon Russell Beale, who is one of Britain’s most brilliant actors, made for such a wonderful Charles). The remaining Musgroves were passable. Certainly Louisa and Henrietta, Charles’s giggly, flighty sisters, (Jennifer Higham and Rosamund Stephen) were as giggly and flighty as could possibly be – but I did feel the actresses were each cast as the wrong sister.

The Elliot family were quite splendid in this production. Anthony Head was a perfectly pompous and vain Sir Walter Elliot, obsessed with appearances – especially his own. He was the standout scene-stealer in this Persuasion’s supporting cast. Julia Davis made for a delightfully snidey and arrogant Elizabeth Elliot, whose nose was pushed firmly out of joint by the attentions of her cousin, William Elliot, to ‘plain’ Anne. William Elliot was played here by Tobias Menzies, who is an actor I enjoy immensely. But I had a mixed response to his performance here. He was suitably smug and creepy, but also charismatic – very much so in fact. But at times I found his delivery a little one-paced and flat – although his proposal to Anne was one of the high points of the drama. Unfortunately, the adaptors fail to make much of the first time he encounters Anne, on the wind-swept Cobb at Lyme. This is a turning point in the novel, as Wentworth observes Elliot's admiration of Anne, and perceives for himself, her 'bloom', thus re-igniting his passionate love for her.

As for the remaining cast, performances which warrant mention are Peter Wight as a hearty Admiral Croft, Joseph Mawle as a pleasant Captain Harville and Alice Krige, (the Borg Queen no less), who put in a strong performance as Anne’s kindly but snobbish godmother Lady Russell.

Adrian Shergold’s direction was both one of the production’s strong points, and yet at times, a genuine weakness. I rather liked the fly-on-the-wall intensity of much of the hand-held camera-work. This contemporary ‘docu-drama’ style can be horribly over-used in some productions, but Shergold maintained just the right balance here, ensuring the audience had close proximity to the heroine, charting her feelings, her moods, her observations as someone flung to the margins for most of the action. At one point, we are even aware of Anne’s breathing, as she wanders forlornly through the shadowy corridors of Kellynch in the opening sequence.

However, Shergold also over-played this closeness. At times, the camera was positioned too close to Anne’s face for comfort. The romantic denouement is a classic example, when we wait an age for the lovers to finally kiss, and for a single tear to roll sadly down Anne’s cheek – indeed, we waited so long, that I unthinkingly began inspecting Sally Hawkins’s dentistry, as the camera continued to linger on her face, mouth a-gape.

Another of Shergold’s initially promising directorial tricks sours a little as the production progresses. To ensure the audience is better acquainted with Anne’s thoughts and feelings, Anne is seen to write her journal throughout, accompanied by voice-over, and as a parting shot, she then stares full-faced, straight into the camera. This Brechtian device, aiming to engage the audience, soon began to grate, expanding beyond her journal-writing to little sidelong glances, shared with us throughout the action. Notably, Anne’s voice-over whilst writing her journal suddenly ceased, however, once she was reconciled with Wentworth, signifying perhaps her own sense of closure, her recovery from the grief and confusion at her loss in love, which had dogged her throughout the narrative.

Shergold also includes a slightly cheesy moment. During a visit by the Musgroves and herself to the Crofts at Kellynch Hall, Anne Elliot is playing the piano, illuminated by myriad candles. Captain Wentworth is then shown to be staring at her, alone, in stern, reflective silence – and for some time too. She looks again and he has disappeared. Was this a vision or reality?

Even though Shergold appears to favour close, even claustrophobic camera-work, at other appropriate points in the narrative, Shergold occasionally deploys wider, establishment shots, and enjoys using the camera to peer over banisters, to hover above its characters, and even to encircle them, as when the finally reunited lovers dance together on the lawns of Kellynch Hall – which in this version has been awarded to Anne as a wedding present by Captain Wentworth – although it is quite remarkable that a naval captain had won THAT much ‘Spanish Gold’ in the course of his naval adventures. And what about the estate having been entailed? How come it was ever sold at all? Oh well …

Shergold often utilised a suitably chill, stony-grey palette of colours throughout the production, aided and abetted by the dank British weather which appears to have pervaded Persuasion, but fortunately to good effect. There is an Autumnal feel to Austen’s final novel, and the ambience of this production certainly highlighted this. Some interior shots, however, were a little too well lit, most especially at the Kellynch dinner party, hosted by the Crofts, which eschews the soft-toned candlelit effect most often utilised more faithfully in period dramas.

Locations were very well chosen in this production. It was nice to see Bath in all its splendours – most especially an early Bath scene when Anne speaks with her cousin William at the Pump Room. There is perhaps a little over-reliance on the camera panning the grand, sweeping curve of the Royal Crescent, as a convenient synecdoche for quintessential Bath. But overall, Bath is nicely rendered, and again, is washed through with drizzly British weather to suitably melancholic effect. Kellynch Hall (Neston Hall)and Uppercross (Sheldon Manor) are also nicely represented, but the crowning achievement in terms of location is actually the usage of Lyme and the Cobb, amidst thrashing sea-storms, which must have made for a hair-raising filming experience for the actors and crew, amidst high winds and dramatic crashing waves.

The real problems with this adaptation, as stated earlier, reside in the overall narrative structure, which deviates a little too sharply, but with no true purpose, away from Austen’s original text.

For example, having built up Anne as our primary standpoint character throughout, there is an unexpected and not entirely welcome switch just past the midway point, to a vague attempt at a ‘two-hander’ as we are suddenly made privy to Captain Wentworth’s thoughts and opinions. This is achieved with two scenes set in Lyme, once Anne is in Bath, where Wentworth converses with his friend Captain Harville about how he has inadvertently become ‘attached’ to Louisa Musgrove, in the eyes of others, due to his amicable attentions towards her. Indeed, a marriage is expected by all. A later scene, on the sea-drenched Cobb, has Wentworth bemoan to Harville, how he might have missed his chance with the woman he truly loves, who is ‘perfection’ itself. Harville, recognising his feelings for Anne, assures him that Louisa has now found love elsewhere – with Captain Benwick. He then suggests Wentworth head to Bath, and Anne.

In such a way, Captain Wentworth’s feelings for Anne are made abundantly clear at a much earlier stage than the novel, which only follows Anne’s consciousness, as we only learn of Wentworth’s story once he tells Anne his version of events. Arguably, such certainty reduces the suspense, and slightly cheapens our ‘closeness’ to Anne, which has been meticulously built up throughout, as we are suddenly in the vantage position of holding more information than our heroine. It is a puzzling and surprising position to be in at this juncture, and seemingly at odds with the overall trend of this adaptation, which is to offer us such close communion with our heroine.

Of course, by introducing Wentworth’s feelings about Anne with these invented scenes, the writer is ensuring we are not faced with excess exposition at the close of the film – but part of the ‘joy’ of Persuasion is our journeying throughout this love story with Anne, uncertain, questioning, sometimes hopeful, other times cast down. We are firmly on board her emotional rollercoaster. Like many of Austen’s love stories, there is also an element of ‘detective work’ involved too, as we try to ‘read’ the hero, second-guess his feelings, his intentions towards the heroine.

In 1995, Andrew Davies orchestrated in Pride and Prejudice a classic two-hander, ensuring abundant ‘extra’ Darcy, to ensure the audience warmed towards this seemingly cold, buttoned-up man – but he had the space and the time to integrate these fresh aspects of the narrative. A 90-minute tele-film does not have that luxury, and is more sharply-focused if, as in Austen’s novel, the narrative sticks closely to a single protagonist.

A further major change implemented in this production, is the utilisation of Austen’s original but discarded ending. Here, Captain Wentworth is assigned the onerous task by Admiral Croft, of asking Anne whether she is likely to marry William Elliot, as suggested by popular speculation, as if the newly-weds are to take possession of Kellynch Hall, then the Crofts need to seek out new lodgings. Anne’s answer, negating any attachment to Mr Elliot, leads to Wentworth’s proposal. In Austen’s original, this takes place at the Croft’s rented residence in Bath. Here, to ensure added suspense, the conversation takes place amidst the furore of the Musgroves arriving at the Elliot house on Camden Place. The lovers are thus interrupted before Wentworth can fully react to the news that Anne is free. He hastens off.

We then have a ludicrous, even farcical chain of events. Anne chases after him, but is first stopped by her supposedly invalid school-friend Mrs Smith with a rambling explanation of Mr William Elliot’s evil designs against her family. This revelation is swiftly cast aside, and never revisited, serving only the singular purpose of ‘obstructing’ Anne’s path to Wentworth. She then runs to Harville’s lodgings, has a conversation with Captain Harville, and is given a letter from Wentworth, in which he proposes. It is hard to see when he had the time to write this letter. Was it pre-written? Because surely he could not have belted home, written the letter and shot out again, in just the time it takes for Anne to run after him, even with a glancing distraction from Mrs Smith.

Anne then runs to the Pump Rooms, (by now her chasing about like a wild hare has become quite exhausting for the viewer, if only through mocking laughter), where she encounters the Crofts, then runs back home, where apparently Wentworth has since headed, begging the question why he ever left in the first place. This renders Anne’s exertions completely unnecessary, merely a spurious addition to the plot, and a desperate attempt to inject a level of uncertainty, of delayed gratification, to their romance. Of course Anne and Wentworth are united, as we always knew they would be, particularly since we are aware of his deep feelings for her, as much as we know the heartbreak she has suffered over her love for him.

Austen’s favoured ending was so much better, and it is unfathomable why this set of adaptors chose to ignore it. Perhaps the adaptors wanted a more direct personal confrontation between the lovers? Hence he is cold and suspicious but melted by her revelation that she does not love Mr Elliot. In the original, of course, the romantic climax is ushered in by Anne famously conversing with Captain Harville, about the ‘constancy’ of love, as experienced by men and women. It is a wonderful, intense passage, and plotwise, hugely important too, as Captain Wentworth overhears it all whilst writing a letter, and is deeply moved. He then writes a letter to Anne, which he ensures she reads, while he leaves the room, waiting for her response in the street.

In the ITV Persuasion, Captain Wentworth never gets to hear Anne’s speech, as it is moved backwards through time to a conversation she has instead, at Lyme, with Captain Benwick, whose fiancée had died the year before. It is awkwardly inserted, clearly because the speech itself is so iconic, so suggestive of Persuasion, and omitting it would be akin to cutting ‘To Be or Not To Be’ in Hamlet. Meanwhile Wentworth laughs merrily, completely oblivious to Anne’s heart-felt comments.

A further unproductive change between text and screen includes, (as in the BBC 1995 production), a scene set in Bath, when Anne Elliot is seen to literally chase Captain Wentworth when he quits a concert they are both attending, in disgust, once he has heard the rumour of Anne’s ‘closeness’ to her cousin William. I certainly don’t object to Anne’s pursuit of Wentworth on grounds of propriety – although no well brought-up woman would behave in this manner in Austen’s day – but adaptors miss a trick here, as the concert scene, as written by Austen, is packed full of nuance, suspense and misunderstanding.

And oddly, here is yet another ITV Austen adaptation which closes with the leading pair waltzing together. It’s a slightly silly and trite ending, for what should be one of literature’s greatest love stories. Indeed, to my mind, and I’m probably in a minority here, this is Austen’s most resonant and lovely romance of all.

I am not one for close textual fidelity in adaptation, but I do strongly believe that any wholesale changes or plot distortions must be in service to a wider interpretative concept, while preserving narrative cohesion, dynamism and momentum. This is why I can accept the huge changes wrought in Patricia Rozema’s much-reviled 1999 Mansfield Park, for example, as I can see that there is a directorial vision guiding this production, ensuring a rationale for these drastic alterations, even if, as has been subsequently shown, they have proved unpopular with much of the core Austen fanbase. This is brave direction, in my opinion, and successful or otherwise, is an important ingredient in text-to-screen adaptation, ensuring the genre maintains vitality and verve.

ITV’s Persuasion failed dramatically in this regard. This was an attractive film, but it lacked heart and lacked interpretative direction.

For certain, Hawkins and Penry-Jones cannot be faulted for their rendition of this love story. I enjoyed the subtle chemistry between them. I particularly liked the moment when Louisa suffers her ‘fall’ at the Cobb. Anne and Wentworth both work together in this instance; there is a moment of unspoken, lucid communication between them. Even better was their first unexpected meeting in Bath when they discuss Louisa’s impending marriage to Benwick, and he reveals his inferior opinion of Louisa. There is a delightful and touching closeness of minds between Anne and Wentworth in this scene, a natural intimacy, masked as it is by insecurity, uncertainty. It is acted beautifully and meaningfully.

The key problems with this production are most definitely not then due to the leading actors, but are instead inherent in the unnecessary alterations to the narrative structure, which weaken the adaptation’s dramatic effect. The William Elliot/Mrs Clay conspiracy is underplayed and under-explained, but this is partly because Austen herself seemed a little uncertain in this regard too. Even so, Mrs Smith’s sudden recuperation is mind-boggling, (or perhaps is meant as an astonishing proof of the efficacy of Bath’s waters). The 'villainous' subplot was thus used only as a temporary roadblock – and an extremely ineffective one at that – to Anne’s romantic resolution.

The ITV Jane Austen season has been a decidedly mixed bag. I had hoped that Persuasion would be my pick of the three (Mansfield Park, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion), and even had high hopes of just this, during the first forty minutes or so of transmission. But the narrative felt rushed and uneven, and some of the acting amongst the supporting cast, was decidedly below par. It was stacks better, of course, than ITV’s dreadful Mansfield Park, but I would have to say that Davies’s Northanger Abbey, for all its many faults, was probably the best of a pretty mediocre bunch. ITV’s reputation for period drama has always been seen as middling, in comparison to the BBC’s super-confident, slick output, which has ensured the BBC brand is synonymous with quality in this genre. The BBC’s position as the foremost producer of heritage drama certainly remains undinted, if not heightened, as a result of ITV’s foray into this territory.

First impression of ITV's Persuasion

2007-04-01T23:00:00.000+01:00

I will write a full review later, but will say very briefly: there were some things to admire in this production - most particularly Rupert Penry-Jones as Captain Wentworth, (indeed, two hours simply watching him sit alone in an empty room would have sufficed) - and the first 45 minutes were very nicely-done. But there were some glaring and important changes from Austen's original, which altered the dynamics of the narrative considerably, and some of the acting performances here were highly disappointing, particularly Charles and Mary Musgrove (Sam Hazeldine and Amanda Hale), and I wasn't over-impressed either by the giddy Miss Musgroves, Louisa and Henrietta (Jennifer Higham and Rosamund Stephen). Much better was Sir Walter Elliot (Anthony Head) and Elizabeth Elliot (Julia Davis). As for Anne - my favourite of all Austen heroines - she is played nicely here by Sally Hawkins, who is a very fine actress.

I don't think this was anywhere near as good as the BBC production 1995 - although Rupert Penry-Jones more than compensated here in lieu of Ciaran Hinds. Indeed, there was no comparison.

Anyway, much, much more to come - am now watching the Behind the Scenes documentary, about how these Austen films on ITV were made.

Charming Northanger Abbey enlivens ITV Jane Austen Season

2007-03-25T23:03:00.000+01:00

Northanger Abbey is one of Austen's lesser-read novels, which is a shame, because it really is boundless fun. Perhaps, some could claim, this is because from a romantic point of view, there is less popular excitement engendered by its subsequently less famous central love-match, in comparison say to Darcy and Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice, whose intellectual sparring has rendered them almost iconic in Romantic Fiction. Arguably too, Northanger Abbey is treated (perhaps unfairly) as a 'light-weight' compared to Austen's more mature works, such as Emma, Mansfield Park and the touching emotional resonance of 'mature' love between Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth in Persuasion.

Northanger Abbey can be read as a light-hearted parody of the Gothic Romance literary genre, which was hugely popular in Austen's day, and is lampooned mercilessly and wittily through the muddled adventures of the novel's sweet, naieve young heroine, Catherine Morland's over-attachment to these sensationalist narratives. Catherine's voracious consumption of these overblown adventures, horrors and seductions of her day, leads to unexpected complications and confusions in her own personal life, as fiction merges with reality in her mind, and she almost loses the man she loves, Henry Tilney, as a consequence.

This is foremost a story about a teenager on the cusp of womanhood, and is consequently alive with the foibles and fancies of the young generation of this period. Yet true to Austen there are always serious material concerns pervading the narrative. Marriage prospects, fortune (and lack of it), marital contentment and family dysfunction are key themes. The comedic elements keep this novel from straying too far into the harsh realities of these dark underpinnings; the tone is light and airy. We move through the sometimes seedy world of Bath - full of scoundrels and adventurers - to the austere regime of Northanger Abbey, always in the charming and endearing company of Catherine, who fails to see ill in others, because she herself is so pure-hearted: indeed, this is the quality that the more world-weary and experienced Henry Tilney falls for.

Prior to the new ITV version, there has only been one adaptation of Northanger Abbey - a tele-film aired in 1986 (see Screen Stories review: Firth makes for a 'super-creepy' Austenian hero in Northanger Abbey; the 2nd review), starring Peter Firth as Henry, with a script from Maggie Wadey. This production truly is a horror-show, a failure on every front.

Suffice it to say, ITV's new Northanger Abbey is much, much better - indeed, it is a vast improvement on the dire Mansfield Park (also scripted by Maggie Wadey) we had to suffer last week.

The scriptwriter for this new Northanger Abbey is the hugely capable and experienced 'adaptor laureate' himself, Andrew Davies, and his contribution proves, yet again, that the screenplay in any given TV drama or film is its bedrock, its life-force. With Davies's well-constructed script and surefooted re-casting of Austenian dialogue at its foundations, Northanger Abbey is a production at ease with itself, confident of its pacing, its plotting, its ability to portray credible characterisation.

As one would expect, there are some changes between the source text and adaptation, but in this instance, we never lose a sense of narrative cohesion or find the pace faltering. For example, in the novel, whilst at Northanger Abbey, Catherine visits Henry's parsonage at Woodston, where General Tilney is constantly and pointedly recommending the house as a future marital home. In Davies's screenplay, Woodston is now viewed from afar, whilst Henry and Catherine are riding - it is significant enough that he shows her his home, as by this point the viewer is in no doubt about his feelings for Catherine. Hence it is a convenient edit.

In general, any changes, omissions or deviations are in service here to the plot, ensuring a seamless yet succinct flow. And indeed, Northanger Abbey, of all Austen's novels, does not seem to suffer from being a tele-film, rather than a more drawn-out mini-series, as the plot is never too convoluted - which begs the question why this novel is not a favourite of adaptors.

Davies, of course, has added a fair few of his own distinctive trademark touches too of course, enlivening Catherine's inner life with visual dream-sequences, often of a sexual nature. Catherine's imaginary world is enhanced by her reading works such as The Mysteries of Udolpho, a best-seller of her day, by Ann Radcliffe. But Davies also emphasises The Monk, a Gothic tale of terror, seduction and incest, by Matthew Lewis, which is more strongly sexualised than Radcliffe's more ladylike works.

In this production, Catherine's flighty, flirty friend Isabella Thorpe recommends The Monk to Catherine, recalling the Magic Branch which melts walls presaging erotic experiences, and Catherine is soon seen devouring The Monk by candlelight, gripped by its racy contents. Her dreams become more intense than ever: herself as a Gothic heroine in flight from terrifying forces, and the strongly sexual element of The Monk ensures that there is an erotic charge to her dreams and fantasies. In particular, Catherine is seen to indulge in a fantasy while bathing. The walls, adorned with floral wallpaper, writhe and melt into a sylvan woodland scene where Henry Tilney, notably in full parson's uniform, steps forth, beckoning her from the bath, naked. He admires her naked form, calling her 'God's creation'- but somehow his pious words only serve to highlight the very unholiness of her thoughts.

Of course a nice young girl like Catherine Morland, or even the capricious Isabella Thorpe, would not have been reading The Monk - it was far too saucy. But it is an interesting and fitting addition in this modern adaptation, as it allows Davies to indulge playfully in Catherine's imaginary world, to enliven her erotic awakening, within the spirit of the novel's focus on the perils of the Romantic Gothic genre and its deleterious effects on impressionable young women.

In true Davies' style too, we have an unseen 'romantic' encounter, now brought to life - much as he did with Lydia and Wickham in his 1995 Pride and Prejudice -- as we are allowed to witness Isabella Thorpe, in lonely post-coital discontent in bed, asking Captain Frederick Tilney if they are now engaged. His brusque response is callous, cold. Despite her follies, which are numerous and grating, an iota of sympathy is even elicited here for foolish young Isabella.

A narratorial voice-over is used as a framing-device in this production, swiftly introducing viewers to Catherine from her baptism through to her growing into a rollicking, pretty teenager, ripe for her adventures as a 'heroine'. After all, as the dry, witty voice (in all likelihood supposed to be Austen herself) tells us: 'When a young lady is to be a heroine, something must and will happen to throw adventure in her way.' Catherine is thus launched into the adult world of Bath with her neighbours, Mr and Mrs Allen, as chaperones. The tele-film closes too with this narratorial voice, offering a neat summation of events - Catherine's happy marriage and entrance into motherhood, and the boost in good fortune for Eleanor Tilney and her newly titled and wealthy husband. Normally I dislike a voice-over framing-device, but it works well here.

Aesthetically this production is serviceable if not sparkling. There is something a little muddied and yellow in the cinematography - it lacks pristine sharpness. Certainly these two ITV Austen events have not shared the high quality production values, innovative cinematography and clarity of aesthetic vision enjoyed by recent BBC period dramas such as Bleak House and even Jane Eyre. Perhaps Persuasion will be an improvement on this front next week. Is it a question of budget, of experience and expertise, of the willingness to take risks without compromising the period 'feel' of a production? Similarly, musical scoring in this production is fairly predictable and uninspiring but never actually jarring. In terms of direction too, Jon Jones is competent here, but never exciting. (I felt much the same about his BBC adaptation of Robert Harris's Archangel too).

There has been mild controversy about the locations chosen for this Northanger Abbey. Although much of the action takes place in fashionable Bath, here it is Dublin, with its Georgian architecture, which acts as a stand-in - reportedly because Ireland was a cheaper shooting location. Does Northanger Abbey need Bath to truly bring it to life? Probably not, but it might have been nice. The production notably steers clear of tell-tale wide-lens establishment shots, for those who might recognise the many references to real world locations in the script (and obviously to a greater extent in the novel itself).

As for General Tilney's Northanger Abbey itself, this is not an abbey but a hulking Gothic castle (Dublin Castle no less) complete with Disneyland turrets. It's all a little overblown. And of course, the tele-film - as the novel - indulges in its moments of pathetic phallacy. Timely thunder-storms, flashes of lightening, rain storms all contribute to the brooding, threatening atmosphere of Northanger Abbey. It's all delightfully silly. More fitting are the gentle, sunny scenes at Fullerton, the Morland home, with an ivy-clad parsonage (of very grand proportions it must be said) while Henry's parsonage is a fine, grey-stone house, with a thoroughly respectable air of modest solidity.

Acting performances throughout are steady, if not scintillating. Felicity Jones, who plays Catherine Morland, will be a big star I'm certain. Not because of her immense acting talents, although she is fine in this department, but because she is something of a ‘hottie’ in a sort of nubile, Leslie Carron-as-Gigi kind of way with large, soulful eyes and bee-sting lips pouting prettily in the manner of a perpetually surprised bunny rabbit. At first I felt she was a little too knowing to be a naieve young heroine, unexperienced in the wicked ways of the world. But here, a little strangely, she seems to become increasingly artless and insecure as the action progresses, to the point where our sympathies are truly engaged with her by the time she is evicted cruelly from Northanger Abbey. She firmly believes she is being punished for her own silly fancies, and even deserves such harsh treatment. She never suspects the awful truth, that General Tilney learns she is not a wealthy heiress (as he had been falsely told by Thorpe) and therefore sees her as a fortune-hunting adventuress. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth.

As for Henry Tilney, the man Catherine loves and eventually marries. He is played here by JJ Feild with charm, wit and warm tenderness towards young Catherine, whose innocence he cherishes. I actually like JJ Feild's Henry Tilney more than Austen's - although I do like Austen's hero a great deal too.

In truth I have mixed feelings towards Henry Tilney as a Romantic hero. On the one hand he is witty, urbane, the kind of guy who could be tremendous fun. You could imagine a modern-day Henry as great company, engaging in sexy, stimulating banter, laced with a healthy dose of bitchiness. To my mind, he would make a great match for a 'mature' and witty woman. But in Northanger Abbey he has been paired with an adorable, innocent child-woman, who I occasionally feel has strayed into the wrong love story. For me, the whole affair has a slight whiff of ‘cradle-snatching’ – which doesn’t reflect particularly well on our dear Henry. I fear poor Catherine will become hectored and lectured into sullen silence, rather than mentored into maturity, which is what Austen would rather have us believe here I feel. This does not feel like a union of equals, and in a postfeminist age, equality of mind is surely a pre-requisite for ideal love. (Again, is this why Pride and Prejudice is so popular?)

I can't help but slightly resent Henry's paternalistic upbraiding of Catherine for her (granted) very foolish notions about his father's murdering his mother. He is justified, of course. But it is the momentuous importance given to the incident in the heroine's life which riles me a little. For Catherine, Henry's anger is a turning point when she sees that the realities of experience - as explained to her by Henry earlier - are more frightening and more serious than any novel, and not to be treated as trifles. It is the crux of her maturation plot - much as poor Emma Woodhouse is later reduced to tears by her moral mentor Mr Knightley, after her rudeness to Miss Bates on Box Hill. In both cases the romantic hero is accorded a hugely vital role in shaping the heroine's character (and suitability for marriage). But there is something a little patronising and self-satisfied in these examples of male moral superiority, reining in the feminine excesses of the women they hope to wed. I guess then my quibble here is actually less with Henry Tilney (or even Mr Knightley), but with Austen's deployment of these characters as subtle Pygmalions.

JJ Feild's Henry is always saved by an impish, boyish charm. He is perceptive, intelligent, and of course, as Mrs Allen (Sylvestra Le Touzel in her best ever performance) constantly tells us, he 'understands muslins.' Certainly he has a 'feminine' side, but JJ Feild's Tilney is tough too, judging by his instant dismissal of two young men from their seats at the Assembly dance, to enable Catherine and Mrs Allen to sit down. There is also something very self-aware throughout his performance, perhaps something hurt and vulnerable too. He envies Catherine's happy childhood, her resultant purity of thought and motive. There is a lonely little boy behind his glib, witty persona, although we have sadly lost some of his sparkling wit and cleverness in the transition from text to screen. But not so much as to lose the 'essence' of Henry Tilney, which JJ Feild has captured strongly here.

Here, Henry and Catherine's romance is sweet, endearing. He describes the bovine, pushy John Thorpe, (William Beck), who is chasing Catherine's affections with brazen gusto, as his 'rival' and warns Catherine he is not best-equipped to offer his opinion on Thorpe, thus ensuring his admiration for her is always clear cut. Indeed, their mutual appreciation is always obvious, which made me wonder why he did not propose to her at Northanger Abbey, most especially considering his father is so keen to forge a match between them (whilst he still believes her to be filthy rich). Certainly there is also some sexual attraction between Catherine and Henry, particularly displayed when he wipes her cheek clean after riding. And once he has ditched his irksome father and finally proposed to Catherine at Fullerton, the couple's obligatory kiss (for the satisfaction of a modern TV audience) is definitely ardent, almost raunchy, compared to most period dramas. Perhaps it is the corollary of sweet little Catherine's pent-up fantasy world finally bubbling to the fore, as she literally pushes Henry backwards into a hedge with the force of her passion. It is little surprise that our next shot of the happy couple is post-marriage, of course, and holding a baby ...

Aside from the central couple, there are some strong supporting performances. Carey Mulligan is very good as the flirtatious Isabella. She not only flirts with all the men in Bath, but even, it seems, with the male viewers, as at one point, she is alone with Catherine, both in their under-garments, cleavages busting out of their corsets and long hair wild, undone. 'What would men think if they saw us now?' she giggles knowingly. (Another Davies 'touch'). Mulligan captures beautifully Isabella's shallow, vapid nature, her reliance on her sexuality above all - although we cannot forget this is a girl without fortune, possibly raised to silliness, as perhaps shown by her mother's downcast face, accompanying her daughter's arch, brittle manner, when news comes that James Morland (Catherine's brother) is not the wealthy marriage prospect the Thorpes had hoped for. And yet Isabella is a victim too, as shown by Captain Tilney's caddish 'use' of her. Eleanor Tilney, (Catherine Walker), assures Catherine, in her slow, sage manner, that Isabella is the type to recover from such disappointments - but one wonders about the real vulnerability of Isabella's situation, most particularly as she does not have the wit and intelligence to truly play the game, and survive intact.

Out of the remaining minor characters, the Allens (Desmond Barrit and Sylvestra Le Touzel) make for a fine comedic pairing, and the Morland family are pleasantly characterised. Mark Dymond makes for a suitably sly Captain Frederick Tilney, and his father, the sinister General, is played, a little less successfully perhaps, with sombre froideur by Liam Cunningham.

Overall this was an enjoyable piece, far superior to ITV's Jane Austen Season opener Mansfield Park. This is not a vintage Austen adaptation, in being a little stale aesthetically and slightly unimaginative in terms of direction. Locations, musical scoring, costumes are serviceable, if not astounding. Acting is pretty strong throughout, while never super standout, aided by a fluent, flowing and neatly plotted script. But the tele-film has a quiet, winning charm, and of course, it is hugely refreshing to see a new version of Austen's delightful, yet least-read and least-adapted work.

And another one bites the dust ...

2007-03-22T20:01:00.000Z

... Or at least it feels that way. Party Animals, penned by Ben Richards, concluded last night, amidst minimal fanfare, which has been the way with this under-sung TV drama. I hope it gets a second series, although with only 1.2m viewers last night, I'm not hopeful.

This was yet another top quality BBC drama which I fear will bite the dust. We recently had it confirmed that the marvellous Lilies, written by the acclaimed and talented Heidi Thomas, has been prematurely given the chop - reportedly because it didn't attract the "right sort" of viewer and because the BBC wants to make way for 'New Drama' (go figure). Last year we had the highly entertaining Sally Wainwright drama The Amazing Mrs Pritchard, which the BBC canned because of lacklustre ratings.

In both cases, the series closed with loose ends, and a major cliffhanger in the case of The Amazing Mrs Pritchard - and a lot of fans have thus demanded resolution, most especially in the case of Lilies. The BBC Lilies web site has been literally inundated with hundreds of heartfelt demands for a second series - all ignored. Obviously demands from the wrong sort of audience fall on deaf ears at the BBC which is increasingly (and worryingly) preoccupied with ratings it seems, and facing off ITV - which is not why we pay the BBC vast sums of money via our license fees. I honestly believe the BBC never intended to renew Lilies, based on the shoddy promotion and poor scheduling the show received. Perhaps it wasn't seen as cool and 'yoof' enough to share the same BBC branding as the 'hallowed' likes of Doctor Who, Torchwood and the inexecrable Robin Hood. Perhaps if Lilies had been set in a hospital, and starred yet another bleedin' police detective with slightly maverick tendencies and a drink problem, as seems to dominate British TV output these days, it would have stood a better chance.

Party Animals suffered a similar fate to Lilies in the sense that advertising for the show was minimal. Yes, ratings have been poor, but little has been done to boost them. This was a quality drama with some very strong acting performances - this blogger has already raved Andrew Buchan, and deservedly so. Such a fine actor! And like many admirers of the show no doubt, I'm dying to know if Scott and Ashika are ever going to put aside their 'party' differences and kiss and make up.

If anyone learns of Party Animal's fate in the hands of the BBC commissioners, don't hesitate to tell - I'm eager to know, and hope that the news is good. The BBC simply can't keep dropping it's quality dramas, leaving us with the dross and drivel of so much of the populist formulaic crap currently being foisted onto our TV screens.

ITV's Mansfield Park is stodgy fare, lacking style or substance

2007-03-19T12:30:00.000Z

ITV’s Mansfield Park made for a very dull Sunday evening’s viewing. Maggie Wadey’s script was charmless and uninspiring, displaying zero critical edge, while Iain B Macdonald’s direction lacked finesse or imagination. Despite Macdonald’s penchant for hand-held camera-work and sudden bursts of energy, this filmic experience was lifeless, flat and one-paced. This was a shamefully lazy treatment of one of Austen’s darkest, most menacing and intriguing works. Mansfield Park describes a world fraught with moral and material dangers for poor Fanny Price, both inside and outside of her uncle’s estate.

Here too, Austen establishes a genuine dichotomy between opposing social ideologies. As Claire Tomalin succinctly puts it: ‘Mansfield Park … sets up an opposition between someone with strongly held religious and moral principles, who will not compromise them for any reason, will not consider a marriage that is not based on true feeling rather than opportunism, and is revolted by sexual immorality [Fanny Price]; and a group of worldly, highly cultivated, entertaining and well-to-do young people who pursue pleasure without regard for religious or moral principles.’ [Claire Tomalin’s Jane Austen: A Life, 2000, p. 276]

In this novel, Austen has also invoked the potential for real human cruelty with a powerful cast of characters, amongst whom we have the likes of Mrs Norris, one of the greatest villains of literature. She is characterised by meanness, officiousness and sycophancy towards the powerful, and bullying of anyone she perceives to be in her power. She positively revels in Fanny’s lowly status. Meanwhile Lady Bertram is a supreme example of egoistic indolence and sloth, Sir Thomas Bertram is a morally dubious, authoritarian patriarch who himself must be 're-educated,'Tom Bertram is a selfish wastrel, his sisters Maria and Julia are vain and vapid, while his brother Edmund is a bloodless prig, with a highly developed capacity for romantic self-delusion.

Amidst this happy family we have the external ‘interlopers’ who threaten the stability and order of rule at Mansfield Park. Fanny Price, of course, is the timid yet steely bastion of moral propriety, who is at the heart of the story, but the Crawford siblings, Mary and Henry, pose the most interesting and dynamic challenge, effectively driving the narrative forwards.

The ITV Mansfield Park pays passing lip service to these gloriously rich and involving characterisations. This is not simply the fault of cramming a fat novel into a slim tele-film format, as is so often the defence of failed adaptation. It is because the script, the direction, and even in some cases, the cast, fail to breath life into these characters and narrative.

Billie Piper’s Fanny Price will no doubt be much discussed by critics and viewers. Her performance was competent if a little bland. No, she is not Austen’s Fanny. She runs amok, hair unkempt, a vision of blooming health and vigour far removed from Austen’s sickly heroine. But this alteration is hardly surprising, and I would argue, quite necessary, to enliven Austen’s Fanny in her transition from text to screen. Fanny has to become a more active protagonist to engage our interest. Even so, Piper’s Fanny did not particularly grab and hold my attention.

Fanny is in love with her cousin Edmund, played here by Blake Ritson, giving a pretty polished performance, truer to Austen’s novel in tone and manner. Which is probably why I couldn’t stand him - Edmund being for me, one of Austen’s most insufferably boring romantic heroes. Ritson had the look of a sleek, glossy blackbird with large, soulful, red-rimmed eyes, ultimately worn through by his love for what he deems a worthless woman (Mary Crawford). By the end of the tele-film, he wore a slightly haunted expression, and had become jumpy and panicked – so emotionally unbalanced, in fact, that he fell head over heels in love with Fanny for suggesting the usage of ‘purple’ over maroon thread to her Aunt. His sudden romantic epiphany at this moment provided me with the best and loudest laugh of the evening.

His brother Tom was seriously under-used, considering he was being played by the delectable James D’Arcy. On the plus side, we did cadge a prolonged glimpse of D’Arcy’s bare chest, the downside being that it was covered in large, slimy medicinal leeches at the time, supposedly to help drain away his alcohol-induced fever.

Douglas Hodge made for a fine enough Sir Thomas Bertram, for what was a remarkably conservative interpretation of the baronet, in view of his nefarious ‘business’ interests. Lady Bertram (Jemma Redgrave) was far too chirpy and perceptive, while the viciously venomous Mrs Norris was thoroughly de-clawed and de-toxed to the point of insipid by Maggie O’Neill here.

Michelle Ryan’s Maria Bertram was much highlighted in previews, due to her celebrity appeal as ex-Zoe Slater from Eastenders. Frankly, she might as well have posted in her photograph for this performance, rather than bother to show up, for all the impact she made here, in what is a crucial role in terms of plot development and the elucidation of Austen’s key themes, ideas and arguments. But then again, as there were no key themes, ideas or arguments in play in this adaptation, perhaps Maria’s cardboard cut-out character suffices perfectly well. All Michelle was required to do, it seemed, was to look pretty and alluring, which clearly comes very easily to her. But we had no sense of Maria's fierce greedy egoism, her driving ambition, her sexual competing, or indeed her tragic social imprisonment – key factors in Austen’s text.

As for Catherine Steadman as Julia, I rather liked her, but on reflection this might have been because her presence was so utterly negligible amidst this tripe, that I cannot now for the life of me even recall her face.

Fanny’s brother William (Joseph Morgan) had a small part to play in this adaptation – which was quite a relief actually, as he seemed remarkably irritating, only just saved by a hysterically silly ‘Seaman’s’ dance, performed at Fanny’s birthday picnic.

As for the Crawfords. This pair lacked the genuine charm and allure that Austen’s text requires of them. They must represent a very real and exciting threat, an alternative moral universe for Fanny and Edmund. But here, Joseph Beattie’s Henry Crawford was a pudding-faced fellow with floppy hair, failing to emanate even an iota of Henry’s magnetism and sexual charisma – a feat the original Henry achieves, in spite of his lack of conventional good looks.

Mary Crawford, one of Austen’s most beguiling inventions, was played here by stunning Hayley Atwell, who toiled valiantly onwards with a limp and lifeless script, but she failed to delight. Most annoying, her costumes were almost always red, (or reddish), graduating to moody black by the end, with dangly red earrings. Such a tired old cliché. Clearly the red represented her danger, her passion, her sexuality – all those well-worn cinematic tropes. Meanwhile sweet little Fanny swanned around in pretty pale blues and wholesome colours. A delicate feminine contrast to Mary’s overtly coloured costumes.

One thing that puzzled me was the Crawfords’ seeming lack of a home of their own, as we never saw the parsonage. There they were, forever roaming the grounds of Mansfield Park, bitching about its occupants, but we never saw where they were walking to. Were they just circling aimlessly, in an endless Stygian purgatory? Were they perhaps camping out in Sir Bertram’s hedgerows? Was there really a world beyond Mansfield Park? Were they all trapped in their own Mansfield Park time-space continuum?

It certainly felt that way. Indeed, the lack of extra locations began to make me feel clostraphobic, even queasy – particularly that nasty pink drawing room. Plus, by excising all external environments, (perhaps as a budget-saving device), we lost some key narrative sequences, most particularly Fanny’s punishing exile to Portsmouth, in retaliation for refusing Henry Crawford’s marriage proposal. In such a way, we never saw the grime, hardship and squalor of her family’s life in contrast to the smooth luxuries of Mansfield Park. Fanny’s thinking is strongly influenced by this material disparity. And our awareness of socio-economic and class distinction in Regency Britain is sharply focused by these scenes too, which is refreshing and unusual in the Austen canon.

But this was far too interesting to be included in this adaptation. So instead we had to make do with Fanny’s languishing alone and bored in a vast and splendid mansion with sumptuous gardens, whilst the Bertram family peeled off in their separate directions, going to places we were never allowed to see. Billie Piper puffed out her lips bravely, and we tried very, very hard to feel her misery, amidst such glorious surroundings and sweet tranquillity.

The simple truth is some omissions, some deviations from text to screen really do matter. The plot loses dramatic momentum. Characters lose credibility. And this was a glaring example, even though I’m the last person, believe me, to scrutinise adaptations with pursed lips, pen poised, pedantically cross-referencing a long checklist of essential scenes and lines from the original with the filmic version, tutt-tutting when this bit or that bit has been omitted or changed by the adaptor.

No. I want to be entertained, stimulated, to be swept up in the whole filmic experience. This is what I want foremost. And that means we need, above all, narrative coherence and dynamism, and a sense of truth in the portrayal of characters. If an adaptation fails in this regard, then, quite simply, it has failed to make the transition from text to screen – as is the case with this version of Mansfield Park, which was frankly turgid, lacking suspense or style.

It is also hard to believe that such a critically vacuous version of Mansfield Park has been produced in this particular year when we are celebrating the bicentenary of the abolition of slavery, which, in the light of postcolonial discourses is a very live issue in Austen’s Mansfield Park. Esteemed postcolonial critics such as Edward Said have identified Mansfield Park as a key text in displaying the reliance of English society and wealth on Imperial adventures and the pernicious legacy of the slave trade. We also know that Austen herself opposed slavery and read Thomas Clarkson, a chief proponent for abolition, who wrote The Abolition of the Slave Trade in 1808. Indeed, Mansfield Park itself might well be named after the Mansfield Agreement (1772) which was ushered in by the Lord Chief Justice of England, Lord Mansfield, concerning James Somerset, a black slave brought to England. A question was raised regarding Somerset’s status. Could he still be owned by his master on English soil? A ruling was enforced in Somerset’s favour: ‘It was resolved that England was too pure an air for slaves to breathe in … the moment they put their feet on English ground they are free.’ Jane Austen actually met Lord Mansfield’s niece at the home of her brother Edward Knight, and in view of her usage of the name Mansfield, surely it cannot then be a further coincidence, that in the novel, Fanny Price constantly craves clean, fresh air, ‘the free air and liberty of the country.’

In my opinion this ITV adaptation badly misses a trick. Rather than enhance the potential for a relevant and timely postcolonial interpretation of the novel, excepting a couple of very small references (including Sir Thomas’s walking cane with its decorative carved black slave head), the producers have opted instead for powder-puff pastiche. Was it fear of alienating their audience with what could be deemed as an overtly politicised approach? Or simply uninspired filmmaking?

Personally, I believe it was the latter.

This was Adaptation by Numbers, approached by adaptors with absolutely nothing interesting to say whatsoever about Austen’s Mansfield Park, motivated mainly by the broadcaster’s desire to play ‘safe’ and accrue some easily digestible Cultural Capital in the face of the BBC’s prestigious reputation in this department. Adaptation can be exciting and challenging. It is a tribute not a snub to an author – even a well-loved and revered one like Austen – when adaptors reinterpret, reinvent, and challenge the original text. They enter into a genuine interactive dialogue with that text which actually serves to keep a text alive and fresh and consistently relevant – even if the resultant reading of that text courts controversy or fails to delight filmically. At least there is an effort to actually ‘adapt’.

Indeed, such an effort is entirely and honourably necessary, simply because novels and films are entirely different mediums, behaving in completely different ways, and our consumption of them differs too. Therefore a truly successful filmic adaptation is a pretty remarkable achievement, although often the best adaptations cannot stay ‘faithful’ to the source text, mainly deriving inspiration and shape from the original. However, even those adaptations that purport to be ‘literary’, with pretensions to fidelity, can never stay ‘true’ – and nor should they. If a viewer wants to ‘see’ an entire book on screen, far better to re-read the novel and then summon up one’s own powers of imagination. It’s a less frustrating and more honest exercise all round. Better to simply kick back and enjoy a film or TV drama for what it is.

My frustration with the ITV’s Mansfield Park is I couldn’t even do this, despite its being a piece of harmless heritage fluff, because I had a huge emotional disconnect with these characters. Their relationships felt detached, staged and untrue. Dialogue felt wooden and forced. Stage directions lacked energy and verve. And, importantly perhaps, there was minimal erotic zing between Fanny and Edmund – which in truth adheres more closely to the source text, but let’s face it, makes for very dull television. There were further functional elements at fault here. The credits and signage were irritatingly twee and floral. And the musical scoring was strangely intrusive and entirely grating. Plus, I felt I was suffocating in the richly palatial confines of Mansfield Park. I craved fresh air, I craved liberty, I even craved the ad breaks, and I was so very relieved when the final credits rolled.

Next week I will be reviewing ITV’s Northanger Abbey, for which I have much higher hopes already.

'This is not a very promising beginning' ... So true, Mrs Norris, so true

2007-03-18T23:17:00.000Z

So ITV's Jane Austen season kicked off tonight with an airing of Mansfield Park, starring the toothsomely pretty personage of Billie Piper as Fanny Price.

However, to quote Mrs Norris from the tele-film, 'This is not a very promising beginning', in my humble opinion - of which I will give lots more tomorrow, once I have run through my notes and got some sleep.

Party Animals proves to be a beast of the show

2007-03-11T21:46:00.000Z

I realise this might sound like sacriliege, but I'm already half-sick of the ITV Austen Season, set to launch next Sunday (18th). I'm fiendishly into TV 'originals' right now. A quick scan of my blog in recent weeks reveals how much I loved the BBC's Lilies - well, another BBC series, Party Animals, is also getting a big thumbs up from me too. This little-promoted, poorly scheduled BBC 2 drama (Weds, 9.00pm) about young 'politicos' in Westminster Village, was a little bit of a slow starter, but has graduated to one of my favourite TV series of all time. This is in no small part because of the staggeringly good acting performances: Andrew Buchan as Scott, a world-weary lobbyist, is simply fantastic - one of the best young actors I have ever seen. Also good is Matt Smith as his idealistic brother Danny - a great improvement here on Smith's risible cockney chappie 'Jim' in the dire Ruby in the Smoke adaptation, aired on the BBC over Christmas.

For the record that starred Billie Piper, as a woefully miscast Victorian lass, and it looks likely that Piper has been badly drawn again in next week's Mansfield Park, if early previews are anything to go by. Grab a gander at BBC's Newsnight Review programme (broadcast last Friday) for a unanimous thumbs down for ITV's Mansfield Park, which the reviewers felt had been targeted at teenagers. So all the darkness and subtlety of Austen's original sounds to have been dashed in the race for ratings ... except if Mansfield Park flops (and I fear it might) then this augurs poorly for the remainder of the season - Northanger Abbey and Persuasion (in that order). The Newsnight reviewers liked Northanger Abbey as much as they disliked Mansfield Park, so perhaps that's more promising. I rather liked the clip they showed of Catherine Morland indulging in a secret Gothic-inspired erotic fantasy whilst bathing ... very Andrew Davies, and most unlike Jane Austen. But I'm not one for 'fidelity' for fidelity's sake. Better just make a darned good film - and Davies does have a singular knack for sexing up his classics, so I can hardly pretend surprise that he has engineered sweet, innocent little Catherine Morland stepping naked from a bath into the arms of Henry Tilney. I kind of admire his cheek. And I'm always a sucker for a surreal dream-sequence - whatever the genre ...

Back to Party Animals. This has been a superb series and it is truly sad that it is unlikely, with risible ratings last Wednesday of just ONE MILLION, to secure a second series. This is so frustrating and begs the question how this could happen. Two reasons: a) the BBC has cocked-up big time with poor promotion and scheduling and b) the Great British Public never tuned in because it is hard to get excited about a show you've never heard of. OK it might also be because the political underpinnings of the programme left them stone-cold ... and opening reviews were a little less than fantastic. Such a shame because this show is a true grower. It's greatest flaw is its heroine Ashika (Shelley Conn), who is almost too perfect, an 'Ashika-Sue' if you will. Even so, she is highly likeable. Less likeable but fantastically acted is devilishly clever but emotionally dishevelled (and drunk) Home Office minister Jo Portman (Raquel Cassidy). I won't go into plot details in the hope that this series gets a repeat sometime soon. Suffice to say, it is excellent viewing, undersung by a BBC which seems hellbent on promoting dire dull drivel, the likes of Castaway and Casualty.

Fanny not sent to Portsmouth in new Mansfield Park adaptation

2007-03-07T17:40:00.000Z

Radio Times online (www.radiotimes.com) is now featuring a billing notice for Mansfield Park, to air on ITV on March 18th, 9pm-11pm.

Featured below are a few snippets from the text which warrant mentioning:

A lively adaptation of the Jane Austen classic for ITV1, starring Billie Piper. .... Although she's aware of her debt of gratitude towards her aunt and uncle fromthe start, Fanny struggles to adjust to aristocratic protocol and the daily reminders of her inferiority to her relatives. ....

'Aristocratic' protocol is an interesting take on life at Mansfield Park.

.... notably because Fanny refuses the 'charms' of Henry Crawford, in this production -

'As punishment Fanny is left in solitude at Mansfield. Fanny now deeply misses Edmund and anxiously waits for news that he has proposed to Mary. Before long the family arrive home with Tom, who has caught pneumonia after over indulgence.'

OK, here is our first sign of a major change between source text and film. Fanny stays alone at Mansfield Park rather than being sent away to Portsmouth and her own, poor family, as a punishment for refusing Henry Crawford. Presumably this was for budget reasons, ensuring the shoot was more or less focused on Newby Hall (Mansfield Park). But this might mean we have lost William Price (her brother), Susan Price (sister), and of course, the degradations of life away from the luxuries at Mansfield Park. And how then does Henry try to win her over?? Seems strange. Fanny is merely left to pine it seems ... while Henry gets on with seducing Maria. Which also makes me wonder - presuming Fanny is not seen pining away for too long, which would be awfully dull - this film must make up a lot time ELSEWHERE, covering other aspects of the novel. What then? Rozema's screenplay managed to cover Portsmouth and Henry's extended courtship - and that was film-length also.

And after much soul-searching and abominable rudeness from Mary Crawford ...

'Edmund is horrified and tells Mary that the woman he thought he loved never existed. Finally his eyes are opened and he realises that he's been in love with Fanny all along.'

I wish I could get more excited about this production. Something in the publicity shots has left me cold. Not sure if it's Billie herself. Or perhaps Blake Ritson, who seems too shiny eyed and bushy-tailed ... like a gleaming blackbird (and I am true devotee of Jonny Lee Miller's 'sensitive' Edmund in Rozema's 1999 Mansfield Park - so it's going to be tough for Ritson to win me over).

ITV Austen Season schedule

2007-03-07T14:22:00.000Z

Austenblog has announced the transmission dates for the upcoming ITV Austen Season -

Mansfield Park 18th March
Northanger Abbey 25th March
Persuasion 1st April
Emma (1997-rerun)8th April

The media/PR blitz is now underway for these films - most especially for Persuasion, which seems to be garnering most buzz (especially Rupert Penry-Jones).

Lucky for ITV, Becoming Jane, the cinema movie starring Anne Hathaway and James McAvoy, in what is clearly a very made-up biopic about Jane Austen - but very pretty nevertheless, based on reports thus far - is also on the media-go-round. Jane Austen's 'brand values' appear to be sky rocketing, amidst all this frenzied media coverage.

Why the BBC's Lilies deserves a second series

2007-03-04T16:06:00.000Z

I'm in danger of sounding like a broken record, but now that the BBC series Lilies has concluded, I feel I have to share some parting thoughts on what became for me, an increasingly involving and important British TV drama.

First up, what made Lilies so refreshing? The show featured mainly unknown actors (I'd seen Leanne Rowe in Oliver Twist, but that was about it) who all performed magnificently. They made those characters their own - and what a team of characters Heidi Thomas, the scriptwriter, had created. I found myself caring for each and everyone, and looking forward to their future lives ... a prospect only to be made possible if the BBC commissions a second series of course.

Second, here was a BBC period drama which did not simply wallow in wistful nostalgia, offering us a bucolic view of English countryside, grand houses and the lives of the rich and titled. Instead, Lilies served us up a thick, meaty slice of urban, working class history, focusing on a comparatively neglected period - 1920/21, a time of post WWI-truama, when modernity, representing a true break from nineteenth century and fin-de siecle cultural values was gradually creeping into the everyday. Yet despite the breaking away from the past, many of the values, phobias and fears of that past, still predominated.

Living on the cusp of change was an uneasy experience for most, no more so than in tight-knit working-class communities, as typified in Lilies - a community where Ruby Moss, one of the most outspoken of the three sisters who are the heart of this TV drama explains, a woman wouldn't be seen dead without her corset - even though it was increasingly apparent that the corset not only damaged the female body, but acted as a restrictive device in terms of how she operated as a free individual within society.

Third, and this is surely important in terms of the BBC's license remit, Lilies was also set in Liverpool - Garston in particular - hence we had a fascinating insight into the rich and engaging history of that particular city. How refreshing not to have yet another London-based tale.

There was also a subtle but exciting subversive edge to much of this series too. We were plummeted into the period's social history - and some weighty topics such as female emancipation, then-illegal homosexuality, and eugenics were introduced seamlessly and skillfully into the narrative - but there was also a vital, healthy dose of anti-authoritarianism in play. So we applauded the Garston community for deceiving the 'Tallyman', whose job it was to ensure that housing wasn't overcrowded, thus facilitating the spread of contagious diseases. We also bridled at the rank hypocrisies and inhumanity of the Catholic Church, as the organisation turned the screws on Father Melia, sending him into exile at the end of the series for having feelings for Iris, but also, and more worryingly, because he cared for orphaned, ailing children on church property, and because he socialised with his parishioners. Similarly, Iris's plans to devote her life to God as a nun came at a price - 300 guineas and a pair of silver candlesticks - news which dinted any hopes she had of taking orders.

This twist in the portrayal of the church was a clever reveal, because up to that point we had assumed Father Melia's kind humanity was representative of the church he worked for (and because of changed modern attitudes), so the final bearing down of the church on him was slightly shocking, even unseemly, delivered by a smarmy, smirking Canon, coolly smoking a cigarette, as he elaborated Father Melia's crimes and ultimate 'fate.'

Then there was the core narrative itself, focusing on the three Moss sisters. Here was a female-centric world - albeit ruled to some degree by the emotional vagaries of their 'Dadda' = and it was interesting and unusual, that the series concluded with the MALES having to make major emotional and personal sacrifices.

As mentioned earlier, Father Melia makes a notable sacrifice. The pain in his eyes is most striking when he is instructed to leave his parish for a long and indeterminate retreat in Ireland. What makes his sacrifice all the more endearing, is that he protects Iris throughout - justifably of course, as their mutual feelings have constantly been kept in check, although one suspects his feelings here are the stronger. But it is Iris who naievely instigates the punishment meted out to Father Melia, as she writes to the bishop to request he act as a referee for her application to a convent, as her priest has refused to do so. Father Melia is unwilling to support Iris's desire to become a nun as he rightly detects her ongoing confusion and truama after a shockingly short and painful marriage early on in the series. But ultimately Father Melia proves to be a true romantic hero because he recognises his fate and succumbs to it, to protect Iris. He now knows the true nature of the monolithic, inhuman organisation he is tethered to, and one hopes he can move away from the Church, continuing his good works within the community, in a second series.

Dadda also sacrifices his chance for love and happiness with the sweet Miss Bird, purely to appease his daughters, who are still grief-stricken at their mother's sad death some years earlier.

His son Billy is making a daily sacrifice, we realise, in having to conceal his true nature, his homosexuality, at a time when loving a man was a criminal offence.

Dear Frank Gadney has seemingly sacrificed hopes of future romantic happiness by adhering to his passionate love for May - who has no appearance of ever loving him in return, despite her difficulties as a single mother. It would be interesting in a subsequent storyline to see Frank pursued by another romantic interest. How would May react?

Even Mr Brazendale, described by Ruby as a class A 'louse', was forced to make a conclusive emotional sacrifice at the close of the series, as his tragically unstable wife attempts to commit suicide. Any hopes he might have harboured of reuniting with May and their child are overwhelmed in that instant by a call to duty - the duty of spousal care, for a woman who has clearly lost her mind in grief and longing for a baby of her own.

Joseph the butcher, now involved romantically with Ruby, is also a character who can further evolve, most especially with regard to his ardent interest in Communism and social justice.

It is interesting therefore, that although the narratives centred on the three heroines are paramount, there is huge potential too in the supporting male cast.

Clearly numerous open questions remain, which strongly suggest the need for a second series:

Will May cope with her status as a single mother, which at that time, entailed social ostracism? Will she recover from her brush with the Brazendales, and will she continue to love the father of her child? What will happen between herself and the long-suffering, long-loving Frank?

How will Iris respond to a world where she was rejected by the Church for being too poor? And how will she cope without Father Melia - or indeed, how will she cope with his return (a more interesting scenario), most especially if she becomes romantically linked elsewhere? Or perhaps, if he elects to leave the Church, (not unfeasible in the circumstances), how would she react, as this scenario could present Iris with a minefield of awkward moral choices?

Will Ruby marry her Austrian butcher, and with her feisty, outspoken nature, might she become a political force to be reckoned with? Or might that relationship become too combustible?

As for brother Billy, there is the permanently festering issue of his homosexuality to contend with, as he is unfairly barred from expressing his sexual preference by society at large.

And, of course, how will the sisters respond to Dadda, should he re-ignite his love affair with Miss Bird, or indeed, simply move on from the beloved memory of his deceased wife in some other capacity? Indeed, the Moss Family still needs to come to terms with its grief for the absent mother .... And, all important, can Dadda stay off the booze?

And finally, baby Victor ... what will be the ramifications within the Moss household, of raising May's child?

Overall, this was one of the best original period dramas I have seen on TV. I hope we get a second series - I fear we won't, largely because the BBC poorly mishandled its promotion and scheduling. I will be annoyed with the BBC for ignoring the fact that this is a good value return for our license fee monies. Not only does Lilies make for strong, compelling TV drama, it is also socially-aware and even informative, brightly illuminating an often-forgotten period of our history.

But most important of all, Heidi Thomas the screenwriter, has created an assembly of heart-felt, emotionally engaging, fully-rounded characters, producing that rare magical alchemy, when the characters genuinely seem to take on a life of their own - to exist beyond the confines of the page or the TV screen. All too often, novels and textual narratives are plundered in the desperate search for those indefinable characters who shine with an essence, a reality, who truly reach out and touch audiences and readers alike. While I am a fan of Adaptation, it is hugely exciting to come across a fresh, original set of characters, vividly drawn and realised, who demonstrate enormous potential for further growth.

The BBC badly bungled Lilies; now they should make amends and reward the show with a second series - and this time, schedule it for a Sunday night, which was the original intention - to ensure that this dynamic, absorbing drama receives the viewers and plaudits it so richly deserves.

Cast - Lilies 2007: (World Productions/BBC Northern Ireland)
Catherine Tyldesley - Iris Moss
Kerrie Hayes - Ruby Moss
Leanne Rowe - May Moss
Scot Williams - Father Melia
Brian McCardie - Dadda Moss
Daniel Rigby - Billy Moss
Stephen Moyer - Mr. Brazendale
Iain McKee - Frank Gadney
Jennifer Hennessy - Mrs. Brazendale

Executive Producers - Tony Garnett, Heidi Thomas
Producer - Chrissy Skinns

Ad campaign for ITV Austen Season set to kick off

2007-02-24T17:01:00.000Z

The ITV trailer for the new Jane Austen season is due to air from the 26th February (that's tomorrow!). For a sneak preview see: Guardian Organgrinder.

All three new telefilms look lush and lovely so far. Rupert Penry-Jones is set to wow female audiences as Wentworth in Persuasion, that's for certain. Although JJ Feild might not do himself too much harm in the period drama heart-throb ratings, judging from the very brief glimpse we have here of Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey. Felicity Jones looks exquisite as Catherine Morland. No doubt there will be numerous comments passed over the unruly state of Billie Piper's hair as Fanny Price in Mansfield Park. I can only assume we are meant to believe she is most certainly not yet 'out' in this version (which is true of course, up to the dance held in her honour).

All in all I'm busting for this season to get underway. Word has it that Mansfield Park might air on the 18th March, which is also Mother's Day in the UK of course. I'm half-expecting, with an advertising campaign kicking off tomorrow, that the first Austen adaptation will air the following Sunday. At a guess - again, complete unfounded speculation - the 1997 Emma will be shown first, or perhaps ITV will want to launch with one of its new incarnations?

Or .... perhaps ITV will run the telefilms in order of 'writing' (rather than publication), so that Northanger Abbey will air first, followed by Mansfield Park (on the 18th), then Emma, then Persuasion. However, judging by the buzz circulating, it's my guess that Persuasion is garnering greatest interest, so perhaps that would be the best film to kick off the season.

Alternatively, Billie Piper as Fanny in Mansfield Park is probably the biggest 'name' - plus this adaptation features ex-Eastender Michelle Ryan, which might mean this is the opener, likely to draw the widest audience based on name recognition alone. If so, then the season would take off on Mother's Day. Who knows?? Any info would be much appreciated!

As for the BBC's Sense and Sensibility, to be adapted by Andrew Davies, we have some casting rumours courtesy of Austenblog. Rumours suggest Hattie Morahan as Elinor Dashwood, Charity Wakefield as her sister Marianne and Dominic Cooper as Edward Ferrars.

BBC misses golden opportunity with high class Lilies

2007-02-24T16:02:00.000Z

OK, so it's not an adaptation, but I have to put in a good word for Lilies, the BBC period drama, shown 9.00pm Friday nights. It's the last episode next week sadly, to what has been an exhilarating series, with flawless writing and direction. Acting performances have been top-notch too. The screenwriter in this instance is Heidi Thomas, whose impeccable research into the period and place - early 1920s Liverpool, working-class Garston in particular - has truly brought this show to life. Everything, sets, locations, costumes, are seamlessly integrated, lost in context, which is how the best period drama should be.

Best of all, Lilies has never shied away from the brutal realities of life at the time, and has also sustained a warm, convivial sense throughout - in spite of the day to day hardships suffered. The plotlines have been strong and convincing, often shocking, often moving. Indeed, I have been moved from tears to laughter and back again, each episode.

The narrative focuses on the Moss household, comprising three sisters and a brother, all in their late teens to early twenties, who live in a two-up two-down with their widower father.

The most touching character for me is Iris (Catherine Tyldesley), the eldest of the three sisters, who has become a surrogate mother in her household. Iris has a whirlwind marriage which sours very quickly - the wedding night to be precise, when the truth of her husband's World War One wounds is brought to vivid and excrutiating light. It is heart-rending stuff. As the series has progressed she has become closer, spiritually and personally, to her rather dashing Catholic priest, Father Melia (Scot Williams). You could be forgiven for wishing that he could switch denomination and wed her - she'd make an ideal vicar's wife! But her ardent Catholicism is also what makes Iris so interesting, belying her compassion, and also, rather strangely perhaps, her ardent, sensual nature. When she explains in impassioned tones that she loves Jesus as 'a man', even while professing she wishes to be a nun, it's no small wonder that Father Melia is dubious about her true vocation.

Her two sisters Ruby (Kerrie Hayes) and May (Leanne Rowe) are also excellent characters. Ruby is feisty and outspoken while May has entertained ideas 'above her station' and is currently pregnant as the result of an affair with her former boss, from when she worked at his house as a parlourmaid. In truth, her pregnancy was the product of a twisted, insidious plan between the husband and wife - who are infertile - to gain a surrogate child. Except May fell for her baby's father and refuses to cowtow to their demands.

The sisters have a brother, Billy (Daniel Rigby). A gentle chap, mentally scarred from his experiences as a seaman during the war. During the course of the series we learnt of his secret homosexual love affair with a fellow seaman - now horribly deformed from battle, who sadly dies. Billy is a wonderful characterisation, in no small part because of his caustic, dry wit, which often debunks the female histrionics in his household.

Dadda (Brian McCardie) is one of the most fascinating characters of all. He is a man with a heart too big for his body, who is quick to temper, and quick to love. He is irrational, unreasonable, but also intelligent and occasionally fair. He remains a loveable character, in spite of his flaws.

Indeed, this is the most exciting aspect of this series. The quality of the writing is so masterful, each character is treated with an even hand, eliciting both our criticism and our fond empathy, all within a single moment.

It is a shame that the ratings for Lilies have been so poor. The BBC has boobed big time here, choosing to schedule Lilies on a Friday night rather than the Sunday night slot this show lends itself to, meaning it has had to face off Celebrity Big Brother on Channel 4 and Midsomer Murders on ITV. Unsurprisingly, ratings have tanked. And yet there has been no repeat option for viewers who would have been an interested audience. Of those who have watched the show, and judging too from comments posted on the BBC website, Lilies has garnered a strong and engaged fanbase.

Sadly I don't expect the BBC to commission a second series, which this show deserves, based on the ratings, which seems all the more unfair when one considers we pay our licence fees for all types of TV fare, not just programmes pandering to ratings which often succumb to a soapy, populist formula. Waterloo Road is a classic example. Series One was pithy, well-written, well-executed. Series Two has plunged into the realm of melodrama, over the top storylines and appalling scriptwork.

I sincerely hope a DVD version of Lilies is launched, to ensure more people get to see this wonderful series, which truly counts as the Best of British. The BBC has produced a top-class production and failed to promote it. This sort of defeatism is sure to undermine the corporation.

McGrath gives Nicholas Nickleby the sugary sweet treatment

2007-02-23T23:06:00.000Z

Texan filmmaker Douglas McGrath has developed something of a pedigree with cinematic adaptation having adapted Jane Austen's Emma to screen in 1996, starring Gwyneth Paltrow, and more recently, produced Infamous, the latest treatment of Truman Capote's In Cold Blood.

This 2002 version of Charles Dickens' novel Nicholas Nickleby is closer in tone and style to Emma than McGrath's other works. Both adaptations are lustrous evocations of nineteenth century England, notable for starring glamourous up and coming stars.

As with Gwyneth Paltrow taking on Emma Woodhouse in McGrath's Emma, Charlie Hunnam is similarly a sleekly handsome blonde bombshell, whose gilded good looks dazzle and charm. Paltrow was archly sweet, making for a girlish, endearing, even vulnerable Emma Woodhouse, barely concealed by her defensive wit and snobbishness. Paltrow's interpretation of the role worked well within the fluffy chocolate-box context of McGrath's film. McGrath's Nicholas Nickleby has to indulge in a somewhat darker palette at times, as suits a narrative where cruelty and inhumanity are paramount features. Hunnam plays Nickleby with earnest sweetness, but fails to imbue the character with a sense of emotional depth, and his performance is anaemic and stilted alongside the ranks of fine character actors who illuminate this cast.

Nickleby's eventual love interest, Madeleine Bray, is played here by another up and coming 'looker' with a knack for sweetness - Anne Hathaway. Hathaway struggles to disguise her American accent at times - let's hope she fares better in the forthcoming picture, Becoming Jane, a very loose biopic focusing on Austen's romantic interest in Tom LeFroy.

Stronger here was Romola Garai as a positively luminous Kate Nickleby, while Jim Broadbent and Juliet Stevenson made for deliciously wicked, psychopathic renditions of Wackford Squeers and his wife. Nathan Lane offered suitable comic relief as Vincent Crummles (effectively acting as the film's supra-narrator too), while the brilliant Alan Cummings was sorely under-used as Mr Folair. Amidst a plethora of other notable acting cameos from the likes of Timothy Spall, Tom Courtenay, Phil Davis, Sophie Thompson, Barry Humphries and Edward Fox as a lecherous Sir Mulberry Hawk, Christopher Plummer hammed it grandly as the pernicious Uncle Ralph Nickleby. Meanwhile Jamie Bell made for a suitably tragic Smike - a role which has been grossly over-sentimentalised, both by Dickens and again by McGrath.

Indeed, McGrath has taken on Dickens's penchant for sentimentality with enthusiastic gusto, smothering this film with a thin layer of slightly sickly sentimental goo. The horrors of the gruesome Yorkshire schools, where young boys were tortured and abandoned, are diluted by the saccharine-sweetness which permeates this picture. Money-mad Ralph Nickleby's heartlessness is a foremost factor of course, best conveyed by the humilation he metes out to his niece Kate, through his exposing her to ridicule and lechery amongst his investor clients. But there remains a 'safe' sense throughout - the film lacks an edgy backbone and any audience anxiety has been minimised. The colours, the sets, the costumes, are too sharp, too bright, too technicolour, even in London, where poverty and hardship were obvious and unavoidable factors. Scenes set in Bucolic Devonshire, where the Nickleby's cottage is based, are bathed in honeyed-soft sunlight, ensuring a dreamlike, nostalgic and definitively unreal quality.

Added to this is the pleasant, tooting trademark musical scoring of Rachel Portman, who also scored McGrath's Emma. Indeed, Portman's syrupy, sweet and jocular style ideally suits McGrath's view of nineteenth century England. Her jaunty style is a standout in every film she composes for, including Only You, Chocolat and Polanski's Oliver Twist. She has had an illustrious and successful career, and certainly her musical style is used to good effect here, in that it absolutely matches the director's intent.

Narratologically, McGrath steers a steady if uninspiring course with his adapted screenplay, which is compact and fluent. Nicholas and Smike's stay with Crummles' acting troupe feels a little rushed, but is probably suitably truncated in terms of the over-arching plot. Perhaps the closing stages can be criticised. The Nickleby-Bray romance, while foreshadowed, is hastily engineered, and indeed, the final punishment for his cold-hearted Uncle Ralph is too swift and a little confusing. The closing scenes at the Devonshire cottage are too long and too sappy, and reek of cloying sentimentality.

Dickens is one of our best-loved and most frequently adapted authors. Adaptations tend to fall into two camps: those which offer challenging and richly-rewarding interpretations of his work, where his characters flicker to life in their full multi-faceted glory, and then there are those which serve up strongly drawn caricatures amidst boldy-lit and colourful land and townscapes, revelling in nostalgic, lush evocations of an imagined past. McGrath's Nicholas Nickleby occupies the secondary camp, while the triumphant BBC series of Bleak House in 2005, is a fine example of the first.

Even so, McGrath's film is an enjoyable romp, which does not require a great deal of mental engagement, but at least prompts a smile on a regular basis. It is harmless, frothy fun, neatly packaged with a strong, if thinly-spread cast. Hunnam and Hathaway are at least nice to look at, if a little uninspiring - which pretty much sums up the piece.

BBC's Dracula lacks bite

2007-02-19T20:02:00.000Z

The BBC aired a single tele-film version of Bram Stoker's Dracula in December 2006, the latest in a long line of Draculas to haunt out screens. This adaptation - like most Draculas - strayed from the original Bram Stoker novel.

The threat of syphilis was at the heart of this particular interpretation - a fatal illness residing in the victim's blood, the corollary of sexual deviance and/or promiscuity, which could be passed from generation to generation. Syphilis was topical to its time, but there was a sense that syphilis was acting here as a metaphor for AIDS too.

The protagonist of this version was Lord Holmwood, played here by Dan Stevens (The Line of Beauty, who turns to a sinister, Satan-worshipping underground cult, to help cure him of the syphilis he has inherited from his father. He is desperate for a cure as he longs to bed his luscious, newly-wed wife, Lucy Westenra, enthusiastically played by Sophia Myles. Jonathan Harker - a criminally under-used Rafe Spall in this version - is dispatched to his doom in Transylvania, running an errand for Dracula, who is using Holmwood's cult to his own fiendish ends ... which soon leads to Dracula's sneaking into Britain via Whitby, seducing poor frustrated Lucy, who then becomes a vampire herself, while developing the hots for Mina, Harker's fiancee (Stephanie Leonidas).

Marc Warren took on the iconoclastic role of Dracula. Warren is a favourite actor of mine, but there was something a little lacking here. Similarly, David Suchet as a hoary-headed, melodramatic Van Helsing, failed to impress - strange really, in view of his fine acting credentials.

Sets, locations and costumes were suitably dark and gothic. But the screenplay from Stewart Harcourt was lacklustre and direction (Bill Eagles) was dull and predictable.

Overall, this Dracula lacks bite.

Cranford Chronicles coming our way

2007-02-07T20:40:00.000Z

Finally we have news from the BBC that an adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford is to commence filming this April in the Cotswolds and London. The five-part series is set to star Judi Dench (no less) in the main role as Matty Jenkyns. Sue Birtwhistle, with a solid pedigree in period drama, including the BBC's 1995 Pride and Prejudice, is producer, and Heidi Thomas is the screenwriter. The involvement of Thomas in particular has sparked my interest in this project, as I am a big fan of her writing based on the current BBC drama series Lilies.

Coming soon ...

2007-02-06T17:20:00.000Z

My computer has been dead for the last few weeks hence I have been suffering Mac Deprivation Sickness ... and been unable to update this blog, sadly. All being well, business can now resume as usual.

Reviews to come, based on material watched in the last two weeks, include the BBC's Dracula (screened December 2006), Our Mutual Friend (BBC, 1998), Vanity Fair (Focus/Granada 2004) and Nicholas Nickleby (2002).

On the non-adaptation front, I have also been enjoying the BBC's new drama series Lilies, charting the experiences of three young women, growing up in 1920s Liverpool. It's great stuff so far - fine acting and a great script from Heidi Thomas. I hope a second series is commissioned.

And like many others no doubt, I am eagerly looking forward to the return of Lost to Sky One on the 11th February.

I also caught up (finally) with the political BBC mini-seres, State of Play, which first aired in 2003. Magnificent! John Simms was fantastic, Bill Nighy was sublime, Kelly MacDonald was brilliant, James MacAvoy was his best chirpy self, and David Morissey proved to me yet again that he was one of our finest actors. In fact all the cast, including Philip Glenister and Polly Walker, were simply outstanding - not a dud performance in sight. The drama, penned by Paul Abbott, was superbly paced, truly riveting.

The BBC gets it right with Trollope's He Knew He Was Right

2007-01-18T14:01:00.000Z

In 2004, the BBC aired a six-part mini-series adaptation of Anthony Trollope's He Knew He was Right, directed by Tom Vaughan with a screenplay from Britain's favourite adaptor, Andrew Davies.

This adaptation garnered modest critical praise and generated medium-key spectator interest. Certainly it was not the recipient of grand plaudits and praise, in the mould of other BBC triumphs such as Bleak House (2005) and Pride and Prejudice (1995). Indeed, an earlier Trollope adaptation, The Way We Live Now, aired in 2001 with a Davies screenplay and superb direction from David Yates, had secured greater media interest. This was in large part due to strong acting performances from David Suchet, Matthew Macfayden and Shirley Henderson, and because the core themes of the production - a stocks bubble focusing on the 19th century obsession with building railroads - could be topically compared to the Internet boom at the time.

He Knew He Was Right cannot boast similar selling points. This is much more a tale of small-scale domesticana, mild chicanery, and a study of the highs and lows of romantic love and courtship. For all that, there is an unmistakeable toughness at the heart of this narrative. Few adaptations, few stories, have offered such a blistering critique of the condition of womanhood in the nineteenth century with such deceptive softness and finesse, with such gentle humour and warmth.

The BBC’s He Knew He Was Right offers three key plotlines which interweave and inter-relate throughout. The primary plot focuses on the failing marriage of Louis and Emily Trevelyan. Louis suspects his naieve young wife Emily to be having an affair with her godfather, Colonel Osborne, played with cheeky aplomb by the inimitable Bill Nighy. Louis refuses to believe his wife when she (rightly) protests her innocence. Conscious of the possibility of social disapproval – again unwarranted – Louis chooses to ostracise his wife, sending her away, with her beautiful, younger sister Nora in tow, thereby tarnishing both sisters, while potentially damaging Nora's marriage prospects to boot.

Matters worsen for poor Emily when Louis also decides to take control of their young son, taking him abroad to Italy, where Emily cannot gain access to him – although legally, during this period, Emily has no rights at all, with regard to custody of her son. Indeed, she is shown throughout to be little more than a chattel, her husband’s property. The fact that her husband is clearly losing his mind, sinking into depravity as his lucidity fast wanes, has little bearing on her case.

Emily is played sympathetically here by Laura Fraser, best known perhaps for her role as Kate in A Knight’s Tale, starring alongside Heath Ledger. Fraser naturally has a wide-eyed, innocent gaze which serves her well in this role. She is hugely appealing, cruelly victimised, but unflinchingly strong in spirit, despite her ordeal. Oliver Dimsdale takes on the difficult role of Louis – difficult because he has to somehow manage to combine a sense of weariness, mental vulnerability and confusion (incredibly, he never stops loving his wife, despite his harsh behaviour), with an arrogant refusal to believe in his wife’s virtue, resulting in cruelty and shame. Indeed, Louis’s own actions further exacerbate what was merely an unregarded hint of scandal, blowing it out of all proportion, needlessly destroying his wife’s reputation in the meanwhile - crushing his own hopes for happiness with the family he loves.

Louis’s actions also affect Emily’s sister Nora, played with luminous beauty by Christina Cole (recently seen as Blanche in the BBC’s 2006 version of Jane Eyre), as she is in love with Louis’s close friend Hugh Stanbury (Stephen Campbell Moore). Their romance is thwarted, first by Emily’s shocking change in circumstances, and then by Nora and Emily’s parents, who are displeased that Nora has formerly rejected the suit of a landed lord in favour of Hugh, who is a mere journalist.

The third major plotline involves Hugh’s family – most particularly his sister Dorothy, played with engaging grace and charm by Caroline Martin. Dorothy is dispatched to the pretty cathedral town of Wells, to stay with her elderly Aunt Jemima. Anna Massie is marvellous as the crabby but kind Aunt, who takes a real shine to her niece, hoping to marry her off to Mr Gibson, a local curate.

David Tennant as Gibson is a real standout show-stealer here. Indeed, the ‘Wells’ plotline and cast proves to be one of the most successful elements of this production, in no small part due to the fine acting of Gibson, Massie, Martin and Claudie Blakley, who warrants particular mention as the psychotic Camilla French, to whom Gibson is forcibly engaged, instantly regretting it, and desperate to wriggle out of the arrangement. Gibson's dilemma is prompted by Dorothy's refusal of his hand in marriage (he was keen to secure £2000 promised her by her Aunt), but all the while he is furiously courted by two sisters vying for his affection - the Misses French, Camilla and Arabella. Their bitchy antics provide much of the comic relief here, although there is a strong sense too that Gibson deserves the angst he suffers at their hands – that he has not behaved honourably.

Dorothy is soon embroiled in her own romantic troubles. An unassuming girl, she never expects romantic fulfilment, but is soon proposed to by Brooke Burgess, played by Matthew Goode, who is almost unhealthily smooth and handsome. But Aunt Jemima, at first, is reluctant to let them wed – but we all know, there will be a happy outcome … and are genuinely pleased for Dorothy.

Other notable acting credits should go to Ron Cook, who is excellent as the slimy detective Bosul, John Alderton as the dour parson Mr Outhouse, Amy Marston as prissy Priscilla Stanbury, Raymond Coulthard as Nora’s kindly, rich admirer Mr Glascock, and Geraldine James and Geoffrey Palmer – the latter, especially splendid – as the Rowleys, parents to poor Emily and Nora.

Production values are uniformly solid throughout, although I sense this was not as high budget a production as others the BBC have produced in recent years. But locations are aptly chosen, and a foreign foray into splendid Tuscan countryside, is also thrown in for good measure. Costumes and sets are spot-on. Direction is serviceable and entertaining, conveying us simply and easily through the plot, while highlighting the very real political issues pertaining to women’s rights (or rather the lack of them) in nineteenth century Britain. Davies’s script is especially commendable in his adept handling of the Louis/Emily marriage. Davies is one of our finest writers when it comes to ensuring a sharp critical focus on historical proto-feminist commentary. He is particularly strong at virtuous heroines who are both strong and vulnerable.

This is a fine, albeit underrated adaptation. There is a gentle cadence to the production. It is amusing and even a little twee at times, but still it remains a strongly argued piece of work. It is not in the same class as the marvellous Bleak House or as unrelentingly enjoyable as Pride and Prejudice. But it is a well-produced, well-acted contribution to the BBC’s bulging portfolio of period dramas, and further proof too that Trollope makes for good TV drama. I sincerely hope we get a version of the Palliser novels some time in the future, or indeed, a re-run of the Barsetshire chronicles. Trollope says very serious things in a deceptively sweet and sincere manner, and this adaptation is no exception.

BBC's Archangel is a drab affair

2007-01-13T02:32:00.000Z

I recently watched the BBC's adaptation of Archangel, based on the Robert Harris novel. This mini-series, directed by Jon Jones and adapted to the screen by Dick Clement, was originally aired in 2005, but I decided to give it a go on DVD.

This is a lacklustre adaptation, despite a promising start. Daniel Craig is fine here as academic Fluke Kelso, an expert in Stalin and modern Russian history. He almost comes a cropper, tracking down a long-lost son of Stalin, now harboured by a band of conniving, ruthless Communists (in the 1990s) as a secret weapon - a means to ignite nostalgic fervour amongst Russia's poverty-stricken masses, hankering for the securities of a former communist regime. Craig has some OK support in the form of Gabriel Macht, as an adventuring American journalist who hopes for the story of a lifetime, and in the pretty personage of Yekaterina Rednikova, who plays Zinaida, the call girl daughter of Papu (Valery Chernak), who as a young man bore witness to the suppression of Stalin's 'secret' when the dictator died.

Russia is portrayed as cold, frostbitten, bleak and uncompromising. This is a chilly production. Atmospheric as this may be, the overall tenor of the production is too dour, too grainy, and simply too dull. By the time Craig and Macht have encountered the clearly loopy Stalin Jr, Josef, played here with surly aplomb by Konstantin Lavronenko, I found my attention wandering.

This is a shame. Some of the acting, from a mainly Russian cast, is top-notch. The scenery is convincing. Production values are strong, if not exciting. Perhaps it is the story itself? I had hoped to be gripped much, much more. All the right ingredients were in place. I love a conspiracy theory, and Russian politics is a pet topic. But this thriller failed to grip.

BBC 4 Sci-fi season - hit and miss

2007-01-13T00:37:00.000Z

A long overdue comment on BBC 4's Sci-Fi season, late 2006 .... two adaptations were featured: The Haunted Airman, a teleplay version of Dennis Wheatley's The Haunting of Toby Jugg, and an adaptation of John Wyndham's Random Quest.

The Haunted Airman was an odd little piece, written and directed by Chris Durlacher; an over-wrought, blue-tinged gloomfest starring sweet-faced Robert Pattison (most famous as the doomed Cedric in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) as the wheelchair-bound Toby Jugg, an airman haunted by his role in fire-bombing Dresden in WWII. Poor Jugg is marooned in a large, shadowy mansion, somewhere in Wales, to convalesce with other similarly disturbed patients, overseen by Dr Hal Burns. Jugg instantly takes a paranoid dislike to Burns, and suspects him (correctly as it turns out) of reading his mail - letters mainly directed to his youthful Aunt Julia (Racheal Stirling), with whom Jugg is in love. Jugg's obsessional nightmares focus, rather creepily, on spiders, but before long, his hatred of Dr Burns gathers pace and he attempts to escape. This is far from surprising, given the excrutiatingly wooden acting performance given here by Julian Sands as Burns. Stirling is fine as Aunt Julia, who moves into the nursing home and soon embarks on an affair with the wooden-toned Burns - with fatal consequences.

Much better was the hour-long teleplay Random Quest, starring Samuel West as Colin, a young nerdish physicist who winds up in a parallel universe after a failed scientific experiment. In this alternative world, Colin is a top-selling, wealthy author of trashy fiction, married to a beautiful woman, with whom he (the 'real' Colin) soon falls in love, although the alternative Colin has been a womaniser. New Colin 'reforms' the Old Colin and is then pinged back to his own world - our world - where he sets about seeking his soulmate wife. This adaptation was nicely paced with some slick directing from Luke Watson. The script was penned by Richard Fell.

Ruby in the Smoke - disjointed, disappointing

2007-01-03T03:19:00.000Z

A brief review of the BBC's adaptation of Phillip Pullman's The Ruby in the Smoke, which aired on the 27th September. This was hugely disappointing. The narrative was horribly rushed, ensuring a disjointed production. If I had not read the novel before watching this, I would have given up halfway through in exasperation.

Billie Piper was passable in the lead role as Sally Lockhart. But, there is something all too modern in her air, which in many respects should lend itself well to Sally's forthright, proto-feminist character - but instead Piper always felt like she was trying too hard. She was also overshadowed by Hayley Atwell, in her few brief scenes as Rosa Garland, which does not bode well for Piper's prospects as Fanny Price in the ITV version of Mansfield Park, where she stars alongside Atwell, playing Mary Crawford. Even better was JJ Feild, taking on the role of Frederick Garland, Rosa's brother and Sally's friend (and clearly the subject of a mutual crush). Piper has a buoyant, pleasing presence, but although this was not her finest hour, nevertheless. she was far from dismal.

Sadly the same cannot be said of one of Britain's best-loved actresses Julie Walters, who played the pernicious Mrs Holland - Sally's arch-nemesis and a murderer to boot. Walters was excrutiatingly poor here, seemingly regurgitating her once famous role as the hilarious, crook-backed Mrs Overall in Acorn Antiques, re-spun with a sneering, sinister twist. To be frank I had harboured doubts at Walters's casting in this role. There is something too spare, spry and light in her demeanour, her bearing, which to my mind, never quite suited the thuggish solidity of Mrs Holland.

Other notable castings included David Harewood, playing the Bedwell twins Nicholas and Matthew, Miles Anderson briefly as Major Marchbanks, and newcomer Matt Smith (who woefully underperformed) as the cockney cheeky chappy Jim Taylor. Chloe Walker made for an appealing Adelaide.

Brian Percival, the director, did precious little innovative with what was a fairly pedestrian adapted script from Adrian Hodges, who has fared better in the past with the mini-series Charles II: The Power & the Passion and an adaptation of Dickens's David Copperfield in 1999. He has now been hired to adapt the sequel, The Shadow in the North - which is perhaps a better novel, with a stronger plotline - and I sincerely hope he produces a stronger, more coherent and more 'cinematic' screenplay. In truth, this adaptation strived to keep close to the source text, but Pullman's original is a bit of a jumble - albeit enjoyable. Hodges would maybe have been better advised to re-draft wholesale, sections of this text.

Sets, scenery and location were fine if uninspiring. This period drama is not set to win awards, that's for sure. But it made for a pleasant enough evening's viewing, even though it was far from outstanding, and never better than average.

Adaptations on the BBC over Christmas (NEWS)

2006-12-07T14:27:00.000Z

Confirmed BBC TV Christmas schedules state that the adaptation of Phillip Pullman's The Ruby in the Smoke, starring Billie Piper, is due to air on the 27th December at 8.30pm on BBC 1. A new version of children's favourite The Wind in the Willows is also due to air on BBC 1 on New Year's Day. A remake of Bram Stoker's Dracula starring Marc Warren and Sophie Myles is also set to appear on our TV screens during the holiday period, but a definitive time and date is yet to emerge.

Mrs Dalloway a Dud (REVIEW)

2006-12-03T22:30:00.000Z

REVIEW: MRS DALLOWAY, 1997

Virginia Woolf's Mrs Dalloway is a literary masterpiece, a pioneering example of the literary device known as the stream of consciousness. We traverse the narrative via the thoughts, feelings and ruminations of Woolf's memorable characters; notably Mrs Clarissa Dalloway, a rich politician's wife and hostess; Septimus Warren Smith, a shell-shocked former WWI soldier; and Peter Walsh, a one-time suitor to Mrs Dalloway when they were young, now returned from India amidst a furor of emotional problems. Other minor characters drift through the narrative - Clarissa's husband Richard and their daughter Elizabeth, for example. The action all takes place during one day; a day when Mrs Dalloway decides to host a party, a day when Peter returns to London, a day when poor Septimus, driven to madness by his guilt and fears, commits suicide, rather than succumb to the care of the 'doctors' he has come to fear.

Woolf's novel is a mesmerising literary experience, one I always figured would be extremely difficult to tranlsate to screen, in view of the novel's focus on mental interiority. In this regard I have been proved wrong - and in truth, this should come as no surprise. Visual media has proven repeatedly that it can display and explain multiple states of mind, of being. So in the case of this adaptation, Marlene Gorris's direction does not suffer in this regard - we never struggle to follow the story, the differing consciousnesses of Woolf's characters as their paths inadvertently criss-cross. Instead the film is plagued with an abundance of more mundane problems, suffering for the main part due to a simple lack of suspense and filmic style. Indeed, the direction here is turgid. Character development is dull.

Casting choices are poor too. Vanessa Redgrave has a breathless low-key charisma and a luminous beauty which should have been ideal for the role of Clarissa. But she gives a lifeless performance here. Similarly Rupert Graves is a fine young actor, but is woefully miscast, exuding a natural health and bonhomie in lieu of the pathetic, shambolic, tortured man Septimus has become. Natasha McElhone is better as a younger Clarissa - she certainly matches Redgrave in height and class, but also carries off a gentle innocence. Even better is Lena Headey as a gloriously vibrant and sexy Sally, Clarissa's close friend with whom she shares a tender kiss.

London provides a nicely rendered backdrop, luxuriating in its period setting of 1923. Bourton, Clarissa's country home during her youth, is bucolic, enchanting, marred only by the scowling face of Clarissa's sullen suitor Peter, played with due misery by Alan Cox. Michael Kitchen is an older Peter, though we sense he is no wiser.

This film is a tepid affair, with little to be excited over, and little to hate. Eileen Atkins, a British actress with an extensive CV, and the creator of the UK period drama series The House of Elliot, penned the script here, but it is a stale and unadventurous offering.

Cuaron's Children of Men: A grimly beautiful cinematic feast (REVIEW)

2006-11-29T17:47:00.000Z

I posted a longer version of this review on my Blog some time ago but with the film's recent launch into the US market I thought an 'edited' revision was timely ....

Alfonso Cuaron's Children of Men, based on the dark and chilling PD James novel, focuses on a tragically apocalyptic world set in 2027. This is a world dogged by a fertility crisis which has meant there has not been a new baby born at all, in over eighteen years. Wars have ravaged the planet, the environment is in a funk from decades of prolonged pollution and mankind is in freefall, offered suicide packs by the government which promise a quiet and painless demise. A totalitarian British government herds all foreigners ('fugees) into concentration camps and multiple terrorist groups seemingly stage bombings for fun.

And yet, miraculously, amidst this angst and mayhem, a young woman, Kee, has fallen pregnant. The story charts Kee's desperate attempt to escape to a new life, accompanied by her protector Theo, one of fiction's unsuspecting heroes - a man who suddenly finds himself at the crossroads of history and rises to the occasion.

I should say for starters that I am a huge fan of Cuaron's work. He directed, in my opinion, the best Harry Potter film so far - by a country mile I might add. His work on Great Expectations and A Little Princess was eye-catching. And Y Tu Mama Tambien was one of my favourite films of 2001. He does not disappoint with Children of Men. Cuaron has an astonishing feel for the cinematic medium. Every single frame is crammed with visual delights. More than most directors he succinctly moves and moulds narrative with cinematographic brilliance and has a talent for deploying colour, or lack of it, when necessary. He genuinely paints a story for us with a magically illustrative visual vocabulary.

Here we are presented with a dank, rain-strewn world; a bleak, grey landscape, scarred by numerous power-stations belching thick smoke. The city streets are dirty, clostraphobic and crowded and buildings are graffiti-ed and fallen into disrepair. After all, what is the point of rebuilding a world which no-one soon will be able to enjoy?

Cuaron has elicited strong acting performances from his cast here. Amongst the minor characters, Michael Caine is simply fantastic as genial hippy Jasper - a real scene-stealer. As indeed is Peter Mullan, an unsung hero of British filmmaking, who takes on the minor rumbustious role of Sid, the corrupt border official. Claire Hope-Ashitey is fine as Kee, the first woman in eighteen years to give birth, (her name is a little too heavyhanded symbolically), and Pam Ferris as her anxious guardian Miriam is passable, but this is not her best work by any means. Julianne Moore is one of Hollywood's greatest actresses but is really rather ordinary here - although her early death is shocking and raw. Chiwetel Ejiofor is always good value but a little under-used here as the idealistic Luke.

However, most eye-catching (and heart-tugging too, if truth be told) is Clive Owen's searing, brave performance as the film's 'hero' Theo - a sourfaced, cynical everyman, who takes it upon himself to escort poor Kee to the sanctity of a ship headed for the much-fabled 'Human Project', a quasi-mythical settlement on the Azores, far away from the grime and misery of mainland Britain. To do so requires a perilous journey, avoiding trigger-happy terrorists and murderous thug-like British police officers. Their journey takes them to 'Bexhill' - a town turned notorious refugee camp, enmired in filth and despair, where a minor civil uprising is being quashed most violently by the authorities.

There is an unmistakeable, probably unavoidable messianic overtone to the piece at times, given the nature of the material. And of course there are blood-sacrifices. We know they're coming. But that doesn't make them any less powerful when they do.

There is alot to love in this film, including random but touching acts of human heroism ... and a lot to worry over. Most affecting, perhaps, was the news that Theo and Julian had lost their young child in 2008 to a flu pandemic - a death that clearly haunted and destroyed their relationship - though probably not their love.

There is a very moving moment when Jasper recounts the sorry story of their loss to Kee and Miriam - not knowing that Theo is in earshot. The camera slowly closes in on Theo's face which is stricken at the memory. Saving Kee and her child thus gives him a second chance to save a child when he could not save his own.

This is one of the best films of 2006. It confirms, yet again, Cuaron as one of the supreme directing talents working today. I rather doubt Children of Men will garner much Oscars attention - it's a little too dystopic and bleak perhaps - but Cuaron deserves recognition.

Bond's no Bourne ... problem is, Bond's not Bond either (REVIEW)

2006-11-29T14:01:00.000Z

REVIEW: CASINO ROYALE, IAN FLEMING, 2006

The latest Bond outing, Casino Royale, starring Daniel Craig in the leading role, is over-hyped rubbish. Sorry. I know it has plentiful fans and appears to have garnered critical support too, but I was thoroughly unimpressed, and even a little depressed, by the whole experience.

Let's be upfront about this: I had high hopes for this film. I really wanted Craig to succeed as the new Bond. And after the crashing disappointment which was Die Another Day, the last Brosnan Bond pic, with its absurd invisible car and cut-price CGi, I couldn't see any other direction for the franchise to go, but up. How wrong I was.

The key problem, as far as I can tell is this: the Bourne franchise, with Matt Damon as the super-cool tough guy Jason Bourne, fighting against the worst excesses of the US secret services, has knocked Bond for six. The dark, gritty froideur of Bourne and the imaginative direction from first Doug Liman and then Paul Greengrass (one of our very best directors working today in my opinion) ensured Bond looked kitsch and laboured in comparison. Bond producers were rightly concerned. Their solution, it seemed, was to emulate the success of Bourne. Big mistake!

Bond and Bourne are based on entirely different premises. James Bond is an insider, he works for Mi6, and according to Fleming, Bond's originator, Bond is Eton-educated, a man born out of British imperialist traditions. (Although in this new version of Casino Royale, it is hammered home that the new Bond is strictly State-school).Jason Bourne is an outsider of uncertain origin. He is a CIA-trained killing machine who is now intent on recovering his identity - the identity they stole from him. Thus, however maverick or disobedient he may be, Bond is ultimately on government pay, whereas Bourne is a social outcast, unearthing the dark and sinister secrets underpinning the State - and are the primary source of the best paranoid conspiracy theories, which epitomise the uncertain, fearful world we live in today. From this point of view, Bond is pretty much stuffed.

Casino Royale is even further hampered by the producers' inability to string together a decent plot-line. Yes, yes, we know this is now post 9/11 ... Judi Dench's M tells us this in the starkest terms possible. But this has little effect on plot detail it seems. Even the rise of extremist Islamic terrorism hasn't informed the new look Bond, in spite of being viewed world over as the major terrorist force of our times. This is remarkable when one considers how terrorism is not shied away from in similar spy franchises. Take the BBC's impressive Spooks for example: in Series Five the Mi5 crew tackled Islamic terrorists, radical Christian terrorists, pro-environmental terrorists, Mossad (twice), a genocidal African leader, a Serbian Mi6 plant and foiled an ultra-right corporate coup of the British government.

So what do we get with Casino Royale? A muddled narrative which focuses on financial fraud - namely fixing stock prices by means of sponsoring terrorist actions. Which terrorists? Well, we never learn this vital piece of information.

Our 'Bond Villain' is the money-man for these unnamed forces of evil - played here by Mads Mikkelson, complete with a creepy bleeding tear-duct and a Ventolin inhaler - who has lost $150m and needs to recoup it in a poker game, staged at a luxury hotel in Montenegro. Wow whoopee .... edge of the seat stuff ... I was almost crying with boredom. The plot revolved, seemingly, around this $150m, and Bond's sharpest card-playing tactics to prevent it falling into the wrong hands. Now I hate to be flippant - but let's face it, $150m is diddly-squat in the arena of global terrorism and the 'war' on terror.

OK, so we have a poor storyline - but can the direction, the character development, the action sequences at least ensure an entertaining, gripping ride of a movie? Can it heck! Casino Royale lacked suspense, lacked passion, lacked interest. Well, to be fair. The opening scenes, Bond's first kills, were fantastic. And then there was an exciting high wire crane-chase with Bond hunting down a bomb-maker in Madagascar. All good stuff.

But it went dramatically downhill from there.

We had a mildly riveting action sequence at Miami airport with Bond trying to save a new Skyfleet super-plane from being blown up by the bad guys. And then Bond was dispatched to Montenegro and the interminable poker game at the heart of the film, which was punctuated, mercifully, by an occasional welcome bout of unbridled violence.

This casino equence culminated in a much-hyped torture scene which was a bit of a snore really, and then there was an endless coda in Venice, when Bond discovers the true perfidy of Vesper Lynd, the slink Missy he has fallen for. Vesper Lynd was played by the stylish French actress Eva Green, whose plummy British vowels sounded like she was gobbling clumps of broken china and had a bad cold to boot, poor dear. Her natural good looks were swamped by swathes of makeup, lashings of thick black kohl, as though she was auditioning for a role as vampish temptress in a 1950s Film Noir. I was wholly unmoved by the Bond/Lynd romance.

As for Bond himself. This was the million dollar question. Could Daniel Craig overcome his critics? In a word, no ... Except, yes. The critics have positively wet themselves with surprised glee, admiration and probably contrition at Craig's Bond. This universal acclaim has declared him to be the best Bond since Connery. How can this be??

I seriously wonder if I am living on an alternative planet ... Craig's Bond was mediocre, at best (and believe me, I so, so wanted this to work and was pretty cheesed-off at the whiny media Craig-bashing pre-Casino Royale). His primary facial expression was a strangely screwed-up, pursed-lip 'thing' which riled me throughout. His voice is, well, deep, male ... but almost entirely flat and toneless. The man, as depicted here, is devoid of personal charisma. Worst of all, he is humourless.

OK so we know the famous Bond 'quips' were a non-starter in this all-new, oh-so-serious Bond ... well Bond producers, scriptwriters et al, get over yourselves! We need a Bond with a 'twinkle' - even while dispatching the villains with calculated, sociopathic violence. Bond's wit is an essential ingredient of 'BOND'. Jason Bourne, of course, does not need to be funny. That is not his style, which is born out of anguish, pain, a sense of loss. But then again, this is not Bourne. I'll just repeat that. THIS IS NOT BOURNE.

Craig, in fairness, was given precious little to work with. He is a very fine actor. I would never dispute that. But in Casino Royale, the script is risible. During the interminable poker-game we actually get 'commentary' from one of the secondary characters, Mathis (Giancarlo Gianninni). And still, the game doesn't make sense.

On the plus side, the locations are magnificent. Montenegro is a combination here of the Czech Republic and Italy's spectacular Lake Como, and the Bahamas look fabulous. As a deluxe tourist brochure Casino Royale is at its very best.

In sum this is a disappointing film. I am now extremely disheartened and alarmed for the future of the Bond series. I realise my take on this film is completely out of step with the general concensus, but I strongly suspect that there will be more naysayers over time, once the dust has settled and the film hits renewed scrutiny when the DVD is released.

I was surprised to see that Martin Campbell had directed this film so very poorly - I loved his Goldeneye. That film was outlandish, silly, replete with some remarkably hammy acting, (yes, I'm speaking of Sean Bean), but boy, was it thrilling! And it had characters we cared about (Izabella Scorupco as Natalya), laughed at (Alan Cummings as Boris, Robbie Coltrane as Zukovosky) and loved to hate (Famke Janssen as the inimitable thigh-crusher assassin Xenia Onatopp). And how ridiculous but cool was it to see Pierce Brosnan driving that huge great tank through the streets of St Petersburg?

But this seems far too much like good, old-fashioned audience-pleasing fun for the new look po-faced Bond.

Rupert Everett ups the star factor in his chilly rendition of Sherlock Holmes - (REVIEW)

2006-11-26T11:15:00.000Z

REVIEW: SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE CASE OF THE SILK STOCKING, ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE, BBC 1, 2004

Continuing my trawl through past adaptations ....

In 2004 the BBC aired a tele-film, ;">Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Silk Stocking, starring Rupert Everett as the lugubrious detective and Ian Hart as his avuncular sidekick Dr Watson. The production was directed by Simon Cellan Jones with a script from Alan Cubitt.

Overall this is an enjoyable tele-film, although it sadly wilts a little in the closing stages. It's a small wonder this was not re-commissioned, most especially given its sprinkling of genuine stardust through the spindly, handsome form and patrician features of Rupert Everett in the title role. Rupert Everett, to my mind, is one of the UK's best quality celebrity actor exports. The BBC should have coddled him, treasured him, and ensured he signed on for a longer contract than a single tele-film.

His Holmes is tall, angular, slickly feline with a cool demeanour. His pallid complexion and weary, crinkled eyelids denote his perpetual state of ennui - and, more importantly, his drug addiction. This Holmes rarely eats, rarely sleeps ... he is a quasi-mythological being, a thing of the spirits, of darkness, of inner stillness, of strange, unseen fluxes in mood and moment. On the outside he is acid-tongued and bitchy, and, one suspects, misogynistic too. His sometime companion Dr Watson, played here by Ian Hart, is remarkably patient, stoically enduring all sorts of ill-treatment from Holmes, who singlemindedly pursues his detective work with obsessive zeal.

Cellan Jones's London is an evocative place; mysterious, haunting, sinister, wreathed in thick white fog for most of the action. A serial killer stalks, abducts, and kills his prey amidst these murky conditions. His victims are the teenage daughters of the great and good of the land; the aristocracy. And the killer is revealed to be driven by deviant sexual fetishism. His mode of murder is distinctive and telling. He strangles his victims with a silk stocking, having forced the other stocking down the poor girl's gullet. Cellan Jones depicts these abductions with their dire consequences and the effects of the anguish which they understandably engender with assurance and panache.

Similarly effective are the early scenes showing Holmes to regularly haunt the Chinese opium dens of London. This is a cold, grey world, a fuggy dream-state, riddled with uncertainties, fears, paranoid insecurities. The ambience is amplified by the tele-film's hugely effective musical score, which is both thrilling and chilling throughout.

It is unfortunate then that after a lengthy period of atmospheric eeriness, this tele-film eventually falls victim to the rather clunky mechanics of its own plot resolution. Holmes is at his best when acting by instinct, as he creeps cat-like around London's lofty rooftops, tracing his killer's footsteps. But once the police force is involved, once a suspect is found, there is a harsh rupturing of the mood Cellan Jones, and perhaps more crucially, Everett's portrayal of Holmes have skillfully brewed.

Everett's best 'interactions' are with Helen McCrory, one of Britain's finest yet sadly underrated actresses, who plays Watson's American psychoanalyst fiancee. Holmes is determined to be disdainful of her, but succumbs to her stinging wit and powerful intellect. Their exchanges, especially when first meeting, are electric, almost cerebrally 'sexual.'

(Spoilers coming up). The climactic scenes are played out in a candle-lit basement, the murderer's lair, where one young girl Roberta (Perdita Byrne), who has been deliberately deployed as 'bait' by Holmes, has been snatched. However, we have recently discovered a strange and rather incredible twist - Holmes's detection work on this case has seemingly been hampered by the murderer having an identical twin, who covers for his dastardly deeds. Somehow, Holmes informs us, he suspected this all along – although just how, we have no idea, which is the obvious downside to his self-contained, pensive persona. Nor do we get any inkling, any time soon, as the plot rushes full steam ahead to its final denouement, which sadly lacks excitement, as one is instead left ruminating the intricate workings of the plot rather than simply succumbing to the dramatic events unfolding on-screen.

ITV to remake Wuthering Heights

2006-11-22T16:18:00.000Z

ITV's penchant for period drama continues apace with news that Mammoth Productions has been commissioned to make a new three-hour version of Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights for ITV1. Peter Bowker who penned the BBC's Blackpool is the screenwriter and Damien Timmer is the producer. ITV produced Wuthering Heights in 1998, starring Sarah Smart and Robery Kavanah. The new Wuthering Heights is due to broadcast in early 2008. There has not been any casting news as yet, but I can see Rebecca Hall or Hayley Atwell making a great Catherine. Rufus Sewell is probably a little too old now to play Heathcliff - such a shame. He would have been awesome.

Big buzz begins on Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix

2006-11-22T14:06:00.000Z

The Internet is throbbing with buzz on the new Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix teaser trailer, currently attached to theatrical screenings of Happy Feet (you know, the annoying one with the cutesy dancing penguins) which also debuted online at the Happy Feet website earlier this week. More involving perhaps, has been a HBO preview special with stacks of extra film footage and mini 'star' interviews, which can be accessed via HPANA and Mugglenet. Talking of 'mini' stars, I also had a gander at an E! Special, (again see Mugglenet), which had the E!Online reporter on-set at Leavesden Studios interviewing Daniel Radcliffe. Is it my imagination or is Daniel Radcliffe really, really short? I was kind of shocked when he was mentioned as being seventeen years old, most especially as the reporter, who did not seem unduly big I might add, literally TOWERED over Radcliffe.

Anyway, as to the trailer/footage material ... damn, this looks good. Big on atmospherics, some nicely structured scenes, great sets and I actually like Daniel Radcliffe's super-short haircut, which appears to have ignited an odd degree of controversy I've noted on Harry Potter fan-sites. Oh well.

I am a big fan of David Yates so I expect nothing less than excellent from him. And Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is Rowling's second best book in my opinion, after Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (which was also the best Harry Potter film to date). I am looking forward to this one, which is due for release next July.

There does not seem to be any news yet on the next Harry Potter director, although the longer we DON'T know, the more likely it seems to me that Yates has, or is very soon, to sign on to direct. As much as I like Yates, I would be disappointed. I really like how each installment in the franchise is a different director's vision.

Fingersmith 2005: Victorian potboiler a triumph for the BBC (REVIEW)

2006-11-20T17:49:00.000Z

REVIEW: FINGERSMITH, SARAH WATERS, BBC, 2005

This weekend I was most impressed with Fingersmith, the 2005 BBC adaptation of Sarah Waters's Victorian drama directed by Aisling Walsh and adapted by Peter Ransley. I didn't see it on the BBC when it first aired so I hired the DVD this weekend. Sally Hawkins and Elaine Cassidy put in excellent performances as Sue Trinder and Maud Lilly respectively, the heroines who fall in love and soon discover that their past, present and future is inextricably linked. Rupert Evans was also a real gem in this production as the charming, chilling and cruel Richard 'Gentleman' Rivers and Charles Dance as Maud's sinister uncle Mr Lilly was good value, as always. Imelda Staunton hammed it up as emotionally over-wrought trickster Mrs Sucksby.

This adaptation benefited from having a truly gripping yarn to tell. There was no slack here; no flabby narrative which could have been trimmed. This was very well-honed throughout. At one point, the narrative is re-told, but from a different character perspective, casting an alternative light on plot proceedings. This was orchestrated well and also proved to be a genuine twisty surprise. It helped in this regard, I guess, that I had never read Fingersmith as a novel - a situation I will be amending, asap.

Locations, sets and costumes - all were serviceable. I particularly enjoyed the compelling scenes set in London. Waters's rendition of London has a strongly Dickensian flavour. This is a city where human misery was plentiful and moral corruption was rife. Waters is meticulous in her historical research, which certainly helps to embellish the plot. Here, the public ceremony and commensurate voracious public interest attached to hanging is highlighted, as is the misogynistic practice of locking away unwanted wives in mental asylums.

The lesbian love-scenes between the two leads attracted a lot of media attention when first aired; much of it lewd and unnecessary. The chemistry between Cassidy and Hawkins is tangible and touching - there is a very real sense that they fall in love, a far cry from some of the more tawdry media comments and reviews at the time. Both are very fine actresses, and I now look forward to seeing Hawkins play Anne Elliott in next year's Persuasion.

Hawkins also starred in Waters's Tipping the Velvet, another BBC adaptation adapted by Andrew Davies in 2002, alongside Rachael Stirling and Keeley Hawes. This drama was also remembered primarily it seemed for its lesbian content, but was another fine BBC period adaptation. However, in terms of plot suspense and gripping narrative, I consider Fingersmith the superior production.

New pics from Persuasion shoot (NEWS)

2006-11-14T12:57:00.000Z

Austenblog and Hello Magazine are featuring photos taken during the filming of ITV's new production of Persuasion on a wind-swept Cob at Lyme Regis. Rupert Penry Jones looks especially wonderful as Captain Wentworth. I reckon his portrayal of one of Austen's romantic heroes is going to win him a legion of salivating female fans come Spring next year - adding no doubt to his already sizeable fanbase for his exemplary work as Adam in BBC spy series Spooks. I must admit the finale of Series Five last night was less onerous than usual, simply knowing that Rupert would be back on our TV screens in the not too distant future.

Just to add, so far the 'buzz' on these Austen adaptations has mostly focused on Persuasion ... not sure if that is the Rupert factor, but it's possible. Mind you, I expect that once the Billy Piper-in-costume-drama bandwagon gets rolling, there'll be a sharp ramping up of the anticipation factor for Mansfield Park too. This should be sooner rather than later, in view of the 2006 transmission date for her period drama The Ruby in the Smoke, based on the Phillip Pullman novel.

Atonement pics (NEWS)

2006-11-13T14:43:00.000Z

Keira Knightley fansite walkingindaydreams.com is displaying a portfolio of shots from the Joe Wright-directed adaptation of Ian McEwan's novel Atonement, due to hit cinemas in 2007. The film is set to star Keira Knightley, James McAvoy and Romola Garai.

In other news, Knightley has been reported by Baz Bamigoye in The Daily Mail as wishing to quite the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, now that she has stopped filmed for Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, due to premiere May 2007. There has been neither confirmation or denial of this rumour from Disney - unlike Disney's reaction to Internet gossip that co-star Orlando Bloom was set to drop out from any future films in the series.

Trailer whets appetite for The Painted Veil (NEWS)

2006-11-13T14:39:00.000Z

Nabbed a look at the trailer for the M. Somerset Maugham filmic adaptation of The Painted Veil, starring the luminous Naomi Watts and Edward Norton. This looks good - highly anticipated. To see the trailer, click here. Early screening reviews look promising too.

Firth makes for a 'super-creepy' Austenian hero in Northanger Abbey (REVIEW)

2006-11-13T10:06:00.000Z

REVIEW: NORTHANGER ABBEY, JANE AUSTEN, BBC, 1986

I had never watched the 1986 BBC adaptation of Austen's Northanger Abbey, so I decided to give it a go last night. I had pretty low expectations to be honest, based on the reactions of some posters on the IMDB message board, which were soon dispelled - at least for the first half hour - after which this adaptation lurched unpleasantly into oddly surreal territory. This was partly due to a horrendous Hammer House of Horror syntho-pop musical score, which constantly thrummed and crescendoed in annoying fashion. But it was also due to an excrutiatingly creepy acting performance from Peter Firth as the romantic lead Henry Tilney.

Now, normally I love Peter Firth, most especially, twenty years on, as Harry in Spooks, the BBC's superb spy series. But I couldn't get on with him at all in this production. For one, he was sporting a nasty, wispy, straw-coloured wig, and the camera kept zooming in on his strangely pale, fleshy lips as he over-enunciated his lines and rolled his rs in full hammy Shakespearean mode. Plus, his characterisation was plain dislikeable - lots of stroking, staring and snidey comments. Of all Jane Austen's romantic heros, Henry Tilney is probably the most in touch with his feminine side, and is also witty and clever to boot. Firth instead played him as acerbic, patronising and super-camp.

The remainder of the Tilney family fared poorly in this production. Henry's sister Eleanor, as played here by Ingrid Lacey, was rendered wooden and stilted and General Tilney (Robert Hardy) was an overblown buffoon, more likely to prompt stifled giggles than inklings of fear from an impressionable young girl.

The wayward, fortune-seeking Thorpe family fared little better. John Thorpe was distinguished by his ludicrous, clownish get-up and seedy leer while his sister Isabella constantly smirked, simpered and smiled to the point where I felt like punching her through the TV screen. A truly ghastly performance.

Katharine Schlesinger is passable as Catherine Morland, the unassuming, naieve heroine, and Googie Withers is convincing as the superficial, fashion-mad Mrs Allen.

The location shots and general mise-en-scene have much to recommend themselves in this production. Specially impressive are the Bath scenes - most particularly the ball-scenes and street scenes, shot at night, where Catherine is able to catch glimpses of revellers preparing for their balls, parties and entertainments. There is a very real sense of excitement engendered through these scene sequences.

Costumes are fine, very much emphasising this as a turn of the century (18th to 19th) production, with most men in breeches and stockings, and cumbersome Georgian wigs still very much the vogue. Ladies' costumes in Bath are ornate and fanciful.

And the hats! Special mention must be made of the hats. Huge, towering, wafting feathers, which never failed to wilt, even during an incongruous public bathing scene, where both men and women, unrealistically, were bathing together, adorned in clinging orange robes - but with hats still sailing aloft. This was one of many bizarre moments in this production - and one of the better ones - certainly in comparison to the Northanger Abbey section of the narrative which verges on the absurd!

But then, this adaptation is riddled with absurdities; some more successful than others. For example, Catherine consistently indulges in extremely bloodthirsty 'damsel in distress' fantasies - the corollary of excessive Gothic novel reading - which are initially an original method to explain the romantic nonsense Catherine has stuffed her head with, but become frankly risible as the narrative progressed further.

Finally a few words on the screenplay from Maggie Wadey, of whom I had fairly high hopes, chiefly based on her work with Edith Wharton's The Buccaneers - and notably she has adapted Austen's Mansfield Park, due to air in 2007. In one respect, Wadey has fared very well to compress the story into a short-ish tele-film, and indeed, one quickly realises how the bare essentials of Austen's narrative are reasonably slight and uncomplicated. In view of this, it is astonishing that this novel has not been more favoured by adaptors to date. Here though, Wadey had often muddied Austen's sparkling dialogue, rendering it clunky and laboured. Plus, there were some bewildering narratological inconsistencies.

For instance, when Catherine meets Isabella Thorpe, she does not seem especially enamoured of her. But lo and behold, the next time they meet (as far as we aware ... there is no hint otherwise, that's for sure), Isabella is embracing Catherine, who is still lying in bed, in a manner which speaks of unbridled and prolonged intimacy. The narrative has speeded up to such an extent and in such a cumbersome manner we are also supposed to believe that Isabella has fallen in love with James Morland - a character we meet only very briefly. There is no building to this moment; no reason it seems for us to care.

By the end of this adaptation of Northanger Abbey I was clock-watching, quite desperate for it to end, even if, as I of course knew would happen, Catherine would become engaged to Firth's 'creepy' Henry Tilney with his air of mild sociopathy. It seemed a sorry fate for such a sweet girl, but by now I didn't care, and virtually applauded when puffy-mouth Firth finally ensnared Catherine with a big, fat kiss.

Hoffman NOT directing Harry Potter (NEWS)

2006-11-08T22:19:00.000Z

Mugglenet is reporting that Michael Hoffman is absolutely NOT in the running to become the next Harry Potter director, as confirmed by Warner Bros. So we are none the wiser - but all will be revealed apparently by Christmas.

Del Toro's absence a pity for Potter (EDITORIAL)

2006-11-07T19:32:00.000Z

Wow. Saw the trailer for Pan's Labyrinth, Guillermo del Toro's latest picture. Such a shame he turned down an offer to direct the next Harry Potter movie. He would be ideal. Mind you, in my opinion, the next film in the Potter franchise, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, has the worst source material to work from - although a good director could perhaps render this a far better experience than the overblown, baggy monster which is the novel.

Shooting underway for The Jane Austen Book Club (NEWS)

2006-11-07T19:22:00.000Z

Joy Fowler's The Jane Austen Book Club has been greenlighted and is currently filming in Los Angeles. The novel, which charts the personal lives of a small gathering of Californian Jane Austen fans who meet regularly to discuss the author and her works , is set to be adapted to screen by Robin Swicord, who is also due to direct. Swicord penned the script for the 1994 adaptation of Little Women, directed by Gillian Armstrong, Dahl's Matilda in 1996 and more recently, Arthur Golden's Memoirs of a Geisha in 2005. Maria Bello, Emily Blunt, Hugh Dancy, Lynn Redgrave, Jimmy Smits and Kathy Baker are set to star. Swicord seems a fair choice for this material which was one of the dreariest novels I have read for some years - and as I have been less than impressed with much of Swicord's work to date, (possibly excepting Matilda), I can feel fairly certain this far out that here is a film I will be keen to avoid when it finally hits our cinema screens next year.

Radio Times previews ITVs Austen season (NEWS)

2006-11-07T10:35:00.000Z

The Radio Times is offering a sneak preview of ITV's Austen's season, due to air in Feb/March 2007. Scans of the article are available at Austenblog. From the pictures featured in the article I must say Billie Piper looks a great Fanny Price, but it's difficult to see how Mansfield Park has been filmed ENTIRELY on location at Newby Hall in Yorkshire, as claimed. How would Fanny's scenes in Portsmouth be recreated? Also there is a photo which lists Joseph 'Mangan' as William Price, but this seems to be a typo; this looks like Joseph 'MORGAN'. I felt pretty sure Morgan would take on the role of Henry Crawford, most particularly as there is no other young male actor listed at IMDB - and surely Henry is a more crucial character than William? Notably there is no mention as yet of actors for Rushworth, Tom Bertram or any of Fanny's family in Portsmouth.

The other photos in the Radio Times preview depict a rain-sodden scene showing Sally Hawkins as Anne Elliott in Persuasion speaking with Rupert Penry-Jones as Wentworth on Bath's famous Royal Crescent. She is clutching a letter (presumably the letter Wentworth writes for her, recounting his renewed love for her) which indicates perhaps that this scene is close to the end of the tele-film; perhaps even the moment of romantic resolution.

There is also a scene from Northanger Abbey with young Catherine Morland (Felicity Jones) aboard a carriage with John Thorpe (William Beck). The article wrongly claims the young man beside her is in fact James Morland (Hugh O'Conor).

As an ardent Austen fan, and with something of a keen academic interest in Austen adaptations, I am very excited about this upcoming season. All new adaptations are welcome, and I genuinely cannot fathom the reluctance of a clutchful of Austen fans to embrace new versions of her work - the IMDB mesage boards bear plentiful witness to this mood. Personally speaking, my most-anticipated Austen tele-film will be Northanger Abbey, as I have never seen this committed to screen, having missed out on the 1986 TV adaptation with Peter Firth.

I loved the 1995 BBC tele-film of Persuasion, more so it seems than numerous other Austen fans, but never warmed to Ciaran Hinds as Wentworth. I have high hopes for Rupert Penry-Jones, best-known currently as Adam in Spooks, as the latest Captain.

Again, unlike most other Austen fans it seems, based on my regular perusals of online fandom and contact with academic and literary communities, I am one of the very few who positively adored Rozema's 1999 Mansfield Park. I loved her radicalisation of aspects of the novel, fleshing out a range of wider, political discourses with pathos and brio, although perhaps her overall realisation was flawed for reasons too numerous to cite in this brief article (another time!). But Rozema's unique(re)vision, which steadfastly refused to perform as a servile paean to Austen's great novel, was brave and unfairly maligned. I don't expect similar treatment from the ITV production, in part because I have generally found ITV adaptations to be less adventurous even than the BBC, which has such a strong suit in this field it can afford to take risks without alienating its core drama audience or inflicting undue damage on its 'heritage TV' brand values. Even so, I can't wait for the ITV's Austen season to get underway, and Spring 2007 feels a long way off.

Hoffman to be director for Harry Potter? (NEWS/EDITORIAL)

2006-11-05T18:49:00.000Z

Dark Horizons is reporting that Warner Brothers is in talks with Michael Hoffman to direct Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince, the sixth film in the Potter franchise. Confirmation of the next Harry Potter director is due before Christmas. Other names in the frame include David Yates, currently filming Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and former Potter directors Christopher Columbus and Alfonso Cuaron.

Hoffman's former films include One Fine Day, starring George Clooney and Michelle Pffeifer; A Midsummer Night's Dream with a star-studded cast including Kevin Kline, Michelle Pffeifer, Calista Flockhart and Rupert Everett; and an excellent adaptation of Rose Tremain's Restoration, starring Robert Downey Jr. Based on these efforts alone I am sure Hoffman would fare very well directing Potter, although browsing Potter fandom online, there seems to be a great deal of scorn being poured on the idea, largely on the basis that Hoffman is not seen as a 'big' enough name. Instead Peter Jackson is proclaimed by many to be the best possible Potter helmsman.

Personally I couldn't disagree more with this viewpoint. It might be controversial to say this, in view of the exceedingly high esteem Jackson enjoys, but I never rated the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I can admire the hard work, the grandiose effort, the dedication, the special effects (well, some of them) and the sheer panoramic majesty of the enterprise - but, in truth, I felt many other core directorial values were a tad neglected. I thought a lot of the acting performances were hammy beyond belief, literally risible at times, and the narrative flow was sluggish at points. The Return of the King was the greatest offender in my book, with its interminable, sappy ending. And the best film, (and also the least popular by all accounts!), in my view, was The Two Towers.

As for the Potter franchise securing a top-rate director with pretensions to auteur status - no way ... not now at any rate - unless Warner Brothers can tempt Cuaron to return. Cuaron, in my book, was the best of the Potter directors so far, and his Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is leagues ahead of the other films in terms of quality and style. Cuaron is an excellent filmmaker, and Warner Brothers were lucky to have someone of his calibre stepping in to save the franchise.

Having said that, David Yates, currently filming the fifth Potter film, is himself a burgeoning and impressive talent. His skills have not been tested as yet on the mega-budget scale Harry Potter films usually command, but his works to date, such as The Way We Live Now, The Girl in the Cafe and State of Play suggest he has the ability to carry the job off splendidly.

The simple truth is most directors see the Potter franchise as a cookie cutter system - even though Warner Brothers are forever stressing that directors are allowed an independent take on the novels. Terry Gilliam's recent statement that he would never direct a Potter adaptation, might have smacked a little of sour grapes in view of how he was passed over for the first film in favour of Columbus, despite being author Rowling's number one choice - but he did point out how directing Potter is viewed in the industry, describing it as a 'factory job.' Seemingly then directors keen to preserve their own self-conscious sense of creativity will avoid Potter like the plague - Cuaron excepted of course - so that should rule out other perennial favourites amongst Potter fandom such as Tim Burton, with his wholly unique brand of filmmaking, Quentin Tarantino (as if !), Steven Spielberg (refused to direct the first film), and, Guillermo del Toro, who reportedly rejected an offer from Warner Brothers to helm Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Another potential names thrown into the mix is M. Night Shyamalan, famous for The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, Signs and The Village, who has reportedly expressed an interest in directing Harry Potter. But the lack of critical and audience approval for his latest outest, The Lady in the Water, might well have damaged his chances.

Joss Whedon, best-known for writing and directing the cult TV series Buffy; the short-lived Firefly, which has accrued a vocal and devoted fanbase; and the quirky sci-fi picture Serenity, (based on Firefly), has also suggested himself as director for the final Potter film, to be based on Rowling's seventh and last Potter book - likely to be published in July 2007, according to reports.

ENO's La Traviata - exceeds expectations (REVIEW)

2006-10-29T21:27:00.000Z

REVIEW: LA TRAVIATO, VERDI, ENO, 2006

Friday night I went to the Coliseum in London to watch the ENO's new production of Verdi's La Traviata. This timeless tale is one of my favourite operas and I have viewed numerous versions over the years. The pinnacle of all my La Traviata experiences, so far, has been an amazing, deeply moving and strongly sung performance from the Royal Opera House, whilst in exile from Covent Garden during refurbishment, at London's Albert Hall. It was a sparsely furnished production with Elena Kelessidi, mesmerising as Violetta, and Marcelo Alvaros, the famous Argentine tenor, as a buoyant Alfredo.

Friday's outing of La Traviata was a far less scintillating experience, in all departments, but having said that, this production, which was absolutely savaged by London's critics, proved to be enjoyable and competent. Musically there was much to recommend it: Emma Bell's Violetta was confident, expressive and fluent; Dwayne Jones (Alfredo) had a pleasant lyric tenor voice and James Westman as Alfredo's father Germont, was pleasing enough, although perhaps his voice was a little young for the role, while James Darlington conducted the ENO orchestra with bold flair - although, very occasionally the orchestra overwhelmed the singers on stage - notably the close of Act II.

Bell's Violetta was an undeniably strong-willed woman - perhaps even a little too robust for the role - but I enjoyed her brimming self-confidence and felt it all the more powerfully, as a result, when she was reduced to such weakness and lethargy by her illness. Jones's Alfredo, in contrast, was a pudgy dweeb, for whom Violetta clearly felt no attraction in Act I, even while admiring his consistent ardency. However, by Act II, it is clear that his earnest, artless love wins Violetta's heart and in this sense, the production, rather strangely, worked. It was an interesting reading of Verdi's great work, and in fact a more realistic take too, as all too often we have tubby tenors straining and failing to be glamorous, romantic heroes. Jones's Alfredo was therefore almost comically peevish when Violetta leaves him (urged by his father) and he turns up at a party where Violetta is in attendance with her new client/lover The Baron. But again, this somehow worked, as the pent-up nerdy Alfredo seemed even more endangered, more vulnerable, in his innocent rage. The final scene, set in a dilapidated tenement, starkly showed how far Violetta had fallen in fortune, as well as health.

Set design was good, even elegant, and direction, by first-timer Conan Morrison, was competent, if uninspired. However, the foremost factor underpinning this new production, which drew stern criticism, was the moving of La Traviata from nineteenth century Paris to same-era Dublin, during the Irish Famine. Reviewers were at a loss as to why this had been effected - and they have a fair point. Aside from party revellers necking Guinness straight from the bottle, and a backdrop in Act I of St Patrick's cathedral, there was little sign that this was set in Dublin at all. Still, this move did not deserve the outpouring of vitriole reviewers targeted this production with. Indeed, the interval 'buzz' focused largely on how the critics had panned this production out of spite more than reason.

Overall, this was a tale well-told, well-sung and received with affection by an audience who had clearly warmed to this troupe of ENO performers, who sang their hearts out, in defiance of the production's undeserved critical slating.

UKTV Drama's Classic Books season (NEWS/EDITORIAL)

2006-10-29T21:11:00.000Z

I have been away for a few days and unfortunately missed Daniel Deronda, which was broadcast on UKTV Drama last night (Saturday), as part of their Classic Books Season. I have seen Daniel Deronda before, and was very impressed with Romola Garai in the role of Gwendolen Harleth - one of my favourite literary (anti)-heroines - and Hugh Dancy as Daniel Deronda. Daniel Deronda is a frustrating, yet brilliant work from George Eliot - and in the TV version, as with the novel, I always find myself rooting for the self-centred but charismatic Gwendolen to win Daniel's heart, instead of saccharine-sweet and godly Mirah (Jodhi May in the TV adaptation). Daniel Deronda was a lavish BBC production, but less successful it seems than most.

So far UKTV Drama's Classic Books Season has featured Moll Flanders (first broadcast on ITV), Middlemarch, Scarlet and Black, and last week, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which to my mind, was a far better Bronte adaptation (this time, Anne Bronte) than BBC1's recent Jane Eyre. Notably Toby Stephens was the love interest in both adaptations - ten years apart. And again, I warmed more to his fresh, freckle-faced farmer, Gilbert Markham, in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, than I did his brooding, witty but occasionally strained Rochester, in Jane Eyre.

The final adaptation to feature in UKTV Drama's Classic Book Season will be Austen's Persuasion, first aired in 1995 on BBC1. Having missed much of the season I am hoping these adaptations will soon be repeated.

Halo loses its shine (NEWS)

2006-10-23T00:41:00.000+01:00

The much-anticipated filmic adaptation of the video game Halo, has been shelved, for now - the direct result of Universal and Fox pulling out of the project. Spiralling costs - rumoured at $145m - are being cited as the key cause for pull-out. Microsoft still hopes to engage the interest of another studio.

Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love (NEWS)

2006-10-23T00:39:00.000+01:00

According to The Guardian, Julia Roberts is to star in an adaptation of Elizabeth Gilbert's memoirs, Eat, Pray, Love - the tale of a dissatisfied wife and mother who dramatically ups sticks. Ryan Murphy is to write the script.

Pitt to take lead role in State of Play remake (NEWS)

2006-10-23T00:33:00.000+01:00

The BBC mini-series State of Play, a contemporary political drama, is due to be re-made as a film by Universal, with Matthew Carnahan at the helm. Paul Abbott, the series's screenwriter, has revealed in a BBC Radio Five Live interview, that Brad Pitt is being lined up to play Cal McCaffrey, the journalist at the heart of the story. McCaffrey was played in the TV version by John Simm. Bill Nighy won a BAFTA for his role as a newspaper editor. More info available at The Guardian, rumoured to be the inspiration for the newspaper which features prominently in the series.

Rachel McAdams to be The Time Traveller's Wife? (NEWS)

2006-10-23T00:29:00.000+01:00

According to reports on Oscarwatch.com, Rachel McAdams is set to take on the role of the time-traveller's wife, from the best-selling novel by the same name, penned by Audrey Niffenegger. Previous rumours had cited Jennifer Aniston in the role.

Bronte buzz set to continue this weekend on the BBC (NEWS)

2006-10-20T18:54:00.000+01:00

The BBC is capitalising this weekend on the fervent interest in the Brontes stoked by its recent adaptation of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. The broadcaster is transmitting its tele-film version of Jean Rhys's Wide Sargasso Sea this Sunday night, the 22nd October, on BBC1, at 9.00pm. Wide Sargasso Sea was first aired on Monday, October 9th, on the BBC's digital channel BBC 4. For my review, click here.

The 1996 BBC adaptation of Anne Bronte's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall is to be shown on UKTV Drama on Saturday, 21st October, at 8.00pm. This was an interesting production and of course starred Toby Stephens, the latest Mr Rochester, as one of the Brontes's lesser-known heroic lights Gilbert Markham. His co-star was Tara Fitzgerald as Helen Graham/Huntingdon - one of my favourite literary heroines - who played Aunt Reed in Jane Eyre. Notably Pam Ferris, who made for an excellent Grace Poole, plays Mrs Markham in The Tenant.

Catherine Steadman cast in Mansfield Park 2007 NEWS)

2006-10-16T17:15:00.000+01:00

IMDB is listing actress Catherine Steadman as Julia Bertram in next year's ITV adaptation of Austen's Mansfield Park. Filming is currently underway.

Just to add, at IMDB there are also some fabulous new photos kindly taken by an extra on the set of Persuasion, filming in Bath. Elsewhere the poster claims this film will be aired on ITV next March ... can't come soon enough!

Review: Jane Eyre, BBC1 - Episode Four

2006-10-16T11:07:00.001+01:00

REVIEW: JANE EYRE 4/4, CHARLOTTE BRONTE, BBC 1, 2006

The final episode of the BBC's Jane Eyre was a decidedly mixed bag and rounds off a similarly mixed, though enjoyable series. We have had strong acting performances and lush cinematographic delights but also a stolid, rather uninspiring interpretation of Charlotte Bronte's classic novel and at times, a far from dazzling display of directorial imagination from Susanna White, who promised so much with last year's triumphant Bleak House.

Here White clearly felt it necessary to spice up what is generally perceived to be the dullest passage of events in the novel, at the Rivers household, with a fractured, non-linear narrative, utilising multiple flashbacks, which strive to keep Rochester on-screen for as long as possible without destabilising narrative coherence. Unfortunately the Rochester/Jane chemistry failed to sizzle, despite (and perhaps because of) extraordinarily determined efforts to ramp up their sexual connection. Indeed, there were admittedly a few too many moments in this final episode where my eyes strayed to the remote control and I had to bravely resist the very real attraction of Prime Suspect, the excellent crime drama, which was airing on ITV.

This was not the worst episode of the series. That rather dubious honour falls to the opener, which brushed aside much of Jane's childhood, in its unseemly haste to get to the 'action' - the central romance between Jane and Rochester. After the myriad media and PR articles I've waded through regarding this adaptation, I've come to the conclusion that BBC producers were all too desperate to recreate the famous 'Darcy' effect of 1995's superb (and superior) Pride and Prejudice, positioning Rochester as the ultimate Romantic Hero. To some extent this has worked, judging by comments circulating on the Internet, and indeed an extremely swooning conversation I overheard between three ladies in a restaurant on Saturday, which was bordering on fanatical stalker-mode - Toby Stephens beware! But Colin Firth's crown as king of the 'Classic' romance has not been truly dislodged here - barely even struck a mildly glancing blow, if last night's romantic denouement was anything to go by.

Indeed, the high point of both the series and the central couple's 'chemistry' occured early in Episode Two, soon after Jane rescued Rochester from a potential fiery grave in his own bedchamber. And in truth, the best of the pair has been epitomised by their teasing verbal exchanges, expressing a meeting of minds, rather than those scenes deadset on emphasising their passionate physical proximity. Late in Episode Four, Rochester tells Jane they are not the sort to be 'platonic'. Sorry, but no. Not in this reviewer's opinion at any rate.

And there is evidence a-plenty in this episode where flashbacks, bathed in the unsubtle glow of 'sexy' red light, depict Rochester clumsily astride Jane, muttering sweet nothings while caressing her neck. Frankly I was relieved when these flashbacks faded to the blue-toned reality of Jane's present life with the Rivers. Jane sobs in frustration and grief at losing her past life and love. In this sense, the flashbacks served a purpose in bolstering narrative momentum, but otherwise I found them embarrassing and a little unnecessary (and most certainly not as a point of 'prudishness').

For me the problem was Rochester - well, Toby Stephens - who suddenly, most unexpectedly, struck me as LESS Rochester, and so very, very 'TOBY-ish' with his inimitable talent for super-fine, snarky lip-curling. This was all the more unaccountable, as Toby was far from any lip-curling antics in his current impassioned, loved-up state - and to be fair, this was the first time I had found myself recalling his more intertextual qualities since, well, Episode One - which surely says alot in favour of his portrayal of Rochester for most of the series at any rate.

Less jarring were the flashbacks which depicted Jane's aborted wedding: the bible falling to the ground as the news is broken in church; Jane in her wedding regalia running upstairs at Thornfield leaving a trail of crushed, soft, white petals from her posy; and her departure from Thornfield - although this was slightly marred by her catching sight of the red scarf wafting from a window in the North Tower, which has been deployed as a rather over-done metaphor for Bertha's presence throughout the series. Jane also appeared to emulate aspects of Bertha in this episode, as she too is seen to watch from a lead-latticed window at the Rivers household - perhaps signifying that a marriage to St. John Rivers would be a similar incarceration, a confinement of her free spirit.

Having said that, I thoroughly enjoyed the scenes with the Rivers - far more than the supposed dramatic clinchers featuring Rochester. Having rescued Jane from her destitute, near-death state on bleak, isolated moorland, (a scene mildly reminiscent of the opening of Episode One with a young Jane wandering through a desert), the Rivers family are portrayed here with bustling comfort - apart from St. John, played admirably well here by Andrew Buchan, who is a darker, stiller presence compared to his lively sisters Diana and Mary.

Indeed, Buchan has proved to be one of the stand-out performers of the entire series. St. John's exchanges with Jane make no attempt to 'electrify' and are consequently more natural and realistic in tone, eliciting excellent performances and a heartfelt, friendly repartee from both Buchan and Ruth Wilson (Jane). We have a powerful sense of St. John as a fundamentally good man; a man, who Jane informs him in a forthright manner, 'trembles' when Miss Oliver (who he is in love with) enters the room, while he himself admits that his 'skin may burn with fever' but he is a cold man, controlled by his puritanical zeal to pursue Godly works.

He emerges as a strongly sympathetic character - perhaps more so than Bronte herself intended - and the scene where he informs Jane of her new-found fortune and relations (himself and his sisters) was the best of the entire episode. Jane's unbridled joy is delightful, infectious ... but we never doubt the sagacity of her decision not to marry St. John. This is distinctly unlike the (perhaps) woefully miscast St. John Rivers of the 1997 ITV series of Jane Eyre, where the delectable Rupert Penry-Jones was rejected in favour of a decidedly unappealing Rochester, played here by the usually formidable Ciaran Hinds.

Jane contemplates her decision, her life, her continuing desire for Rochester, atop a precariously high rocky escarpment, set amidst gloriously bleak and wild Derbyshire countryside - a scene strangely reminiscent of a more recent Pride and Prejudice outing, the 2005 film, where Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet stands perilously aloft a vertiginously steep cliff-face, overlooking similar Romanticised scenery, gusting eddies of wind threatening to dash her to her doom at any given moment. Ironically, this scene was often described by critics as a little too Brontean for an Austen adaptation - and yet here we have a definitive Bronte adaptation appearing to emulate an Austen.

Back at Thornfield (her decision made off-screen), we have a disconsolate Jane eyeing a woefully burned pile of ruins and in flashback she is told the sad tale of Bertha's demise and the fire that destroyed Rochester's home. Oddly, given the highly dramatic source material, these scenes are determinedly dull and underwhelming. Bertha, clad in a voluminous white night-gown trails a flaming wedding dress (oh, the symbolism) along a shadowy corridor. Then, half-heartedly pursued by Rochester, whose face is expressive more of mild peevishness than stark panic in spite of the circumstances, she flings herself from the castle battlements. Her descent is matched by the soaring fall, then flight, of a white barn-owl, before the camera reveals her prostrate form on the ground below, arms outstretched, face down. The scene is clunkily-crafted and fails to excite.

Jane is next seen wandering through a misty forest complete with tall, dark trees and vaguely creepy music, but ... all is well. We encounter a pleasant limestone house now occupied by a limping, blind Rochester. Jane brings him a tray of tea-things and then combs his hair, much in the manner of a nursemaid attending to her patient in a retirement home. The effect is stultifying, even chilling, so it is not a surprise when Rochester swiftly and earnestly begs for a wife instead, much to Jane's smirking pleasure.

They embrace, kiss, hold each other, and the camera pans to the fast-flowing river, symbolic (presumably) of the passing of time as we next see them, children in tow, and the Rivers in attendance, preparing a family portrait sitting. They are to be painted amidst an ordered, manicured garden, with a sedate red-brick house, a far cry from the Gothic, ruggedly masculine splendours of Thornfield, serving as a backdrop to their pleasant party. There is a final 'framing' of this parting shot with a slightly tacky floral border - perhaps a heavy-handed symbolic signifier that Jane's 'feminine' has finally exerted control, she has mastered her own narrative, and Rochester has been tamed into Victorian domesticana.

See Reviews of Jane Eyre: Episodes 1, 2 and 3. Also Wide Sargasso Sea.

NOTE - this review is repeated below, without the title, as for some strange and inexplicable reason I have been informed that some readers cannot access this review WITH the title included (??? ... beats me) - so apologies for the 'double' post in this instance. 'Gallivant.'

2006-10-16T11:07:00.000+01:00

The final episode of the BBC's Jane Eyre was a decidedly mixed bag and rounds off a similarly mixed, though enjoyable series. We have had strong acting performances and lush cinematographic delights but also a stolid, rather uninspiring interpretation of Charlotte Bronte's classic novel and at times, a far from dazzling display of directorial imagination from Susanna White, who promised so much with last year's triumphant Bleak House.

Here White clearly felt it necessary to spice up what is generally perceived to be the dullest passage of events in the novel, at the Rivers household, with a fractured, non-linear narrative, utilising multiple flashbacks, which strive to keep Rochester on-screen for as long as possible without destabilising narrative coherence. Unfortunately the Rochester/Jane chemistry failed to sizzle, despite (and perhaps because of) extraordinarily determined efforts to ramp up their sexual connection. Indeed, there were admittedly a few too many moments in this final episode where my eyes strayed to the remote control and I had to bravely resist the very real attraction of Prime Suspect, the excellent crime drama, which was airing on ITV.

This was not the worst episode of the series. That rather dubious honour falls to the opener, which brushed aside much of Jane's childhood, in its unseemly haste to get to the 'action' - the central romance between Jane and Rochester. After the myriad media and PR articles I've waded through regarding this adaptation, I've come to the conclusion that BBC producers were all too desperate to recreate the famous 'Darcy' effect of 1995's superb (and superior) Pride and Prejudice, positioning Rochester as the ultimate Romantic Hero. To some extent this has worked, judging by comments circulating on the Internet, and indeed an extremely swooning conversation I overheard between three ladies in a restaurant on Saturday, which was bordering on fanatical stalker-mode - Toby Stephens beware! But Colin Firth's crown as king of the 'Classic' romance has not been truly dislodged here - barely even struck a mildly glancing blow, if last night's romantic denouement was anything to go by.

Indeed, the high point of both the series and the central couple's 'chemistry' occured early in Episode Two, soon after Jane rescued Rochester from a potential fiery grave in his own bedchamber. And in truth, the best of the pair has been epitomised by their teasing verbal exchanges, expressing a meeting of minds, rather than those scenes deadset on emphasising their passionate physical proximity. Late in Episode Four, Rochester tells Jane they are not the sort to be 'platonic'. Sorry, but no. Not in this reviewer's opinion at any rate.

And there is evidence a-plenty in this episode where flashbacks, bathed in the unsubtle glow of 'sexy' red light, depict Rochester clumsily astride Jane, muttering sweet nothings while caressing her neck. Frankly I was relieved when these flashbacks faded to the blue-toned reality of Jane's present life with the Rivers. Jane sobs in frustration and grief at losing her past life and love. In this sense, the flashbacks served a purpose in bolstering narrative momentum, but otherwise I found them embarrassing and a little unnecessary (and most certainly not as a point of 'prudishness').

For me the problem was Rochester - well, Toby Stephens - who suddenly, most unexpectedly, struck me as LESS Rochester, and so very, very 'TOBY-ish' with his inimitable talent for super-fine, snarky lip-curling. This was all the more unaccountable, as Toby was far from any lip-curling antics in his current impassioned, loved-up state - and to be fair, this was the first time I had found myself recalling his more intertextual qualities since, well, Episode One - which surely says alot in favour of his portrayal of Rochester for most of the series at any rate.

Less jarring were the flashbacks which depicted Jane's aborted wedding: the bible falling to the ground as the news is broken in church; Jane in her wedding regalia running upstairs at Thornfield leaving a trail of crushed, soft, white petals from her posy; and her departure from Thornfield - although this was slightly marred by her catching sight of the red scarf wafting from a window in the North Tower, which has been deployed as a rather over-done metaphor for Bertha's presence throughout the series. Jane also appeared to emulate aspects of Bertha in this episode, as she too is seen to watch from a lead-latticed window at the Rivers household - perhaps signifying that a marriage to St. John Rivers would be a similar incarceration, a confinement of her free spirit.

Having said that, I thoroughly enjoyed the scenes with the Rivers - far more than the supposed dramatic clinchers featuring Rochester. Having rescued Jane from her destitute, near-death state on bleak, isolated moorland, (a scene mildly reminiscent of the opening of Episode One with a young Jane wandering through a desert), the Rivers family are portrayed here with bustling comfort - apart from St. John, played admirably well here by Andrew Buchan, who is a darker, stiller presence compared to his lively sisters Diana and Mary.

Indeed, Buchan has proved to be one of the stand-out performers of the entire series. St. John's exchanges with Jane make no attempt to 'electrify' and are consequently more natural and realistic in tone, eliciting excellent performances and a heartfelt, friendly repartee from both Buchan and Ruth Wilson (Jane). We have a powerful sense of St. John as a fundamentally good man; a man, who Jane informs him in a forthright manner, 'trembles' when Miss Oliver (who he is in love with) enters the room, while he himself admits that his 'skin may burn with fever' but he is a cold man, controlled by his puritanical zeal to pursue Godly works.

He emerges as a strongly sympathetic character - perhaps more so than Bronte herself intended - and the scene where he informs Jane of her new-found fortune and relations (himself and his sisters) was the best of the entire episode. Jane's unbridled joy is delightful, infectious ... but we never doubt the sagacity of her decision not to marry St. John. This is distinctly unlike the (perhaps) woefully miscast St. John Rivers of the 1997 ITV series of Jane Eyre, where the delectable Rupert Penry-Jones was rejected in favour of a decidedly unappealing Rochester, played here by the usually formidable Ciaran Hinds.

Jane contemplates her decision, her life, her continuing desire for Rochester, atop a precariously high rocky escarpment, set amidst gloriously bleak and wild Derbyshire countryside - a scene strangely reminiscent of a more recent Pride and Prejudice outing, the 2005 film, where Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet stands perilously aloft a vertiginously steep cliff-face, overlooking similar Romanticised scenery, gusting eddies of wind threatening to dash her to her doom at any given moment. Ironically, this scene was often described by critics as a little too Brontean for an Austen adaptation - and yet here we have a definitive Bronte adaptation appearing to emulate an Austen.

Back at Thornfield (her decision made off-screen), we have a disconsolate Jane eyeing a woefully burned pile of ruins and in flashback she is told the sad tale of Bertha's demise and the fire that destroyed Rochester's home. Oddly, given the highly dramatic source material, these scenes are determinedly dull and underwhelming. Bertha, clad in a voluminous white night-gown trails a flaming wedding dress (oh, the symbolism) along a shadowy corridor. Then, half-heartedly pursued by Rochester, whose face is expressive more of mild peevishness than stark panic in spite of the circumstances, she flings herself from the castle battlements. Her descent is matched by the soaring fall, then flight, of a white barn-owl, before the camera reveals her prostrate form on the ground below, arms outstretched, face down. The scene is clunkily-crafted and fails to excite.

Jane is next seen wandering through a misty forest complete with tall, dark trees and vaguely creepy music, but ... all is well. We encounter a pleasant limestone house now occupied by a limping, blind Rochester. Jane brings him a tray of tea-things and then combs his hair, much in the manner of a nursemaid attending to her patient in a retirement home. The effect is stultifying, even chilling, so it is not a surprise when Rochester swiftly and earnestly begs for a wife instead, much to Jane's smirking pleasure.

They embrace, kiss, hold each other, and the camera pans to the fast-flowing river, symbolic (presumably) of the passing of time as we next see them, children in tow, and the Rivers in attendance, preparing a family portrait sitting. They are to be painted amidst an ordered, manicured garden, with a sedate red-brick house, a far cry from the Gothic, ruggedly masculine splendours of Thornfield, serving as a backdrop to their pleasant party. There is a final 'framing' of this parting shot with a slightly tacky floral border - perhaps a heavy-handed symbolic signifier that Jane's 'feminine' has finally exerted control, she has mastered her own narrative, and Rochester has been tamed into Victorian domesticana.

See Reviews of Jane Eyre: Episodes 1, 2 and 3. Also Wide Sargasso Sea.

On-set photos of 2007 Persuasion (NEWS)

2006-10-10T01:52:00.000+01:00

On-set photos have emerged of ITV's 2007 production of Persuasion. The photos depict a market scene at a street in Bath, where the film is being largely produced. A visitor to IMDB, cosmicforces, has posted their shots here. Meanwhile Austenblog reveals more on-set photos, as taken by eyewitness reporter Owen, available here.

That 'nice' Mr Rochester loses his romantic gloss and turns Mr Nasty in BBC4's Wide Sargasso Sea (REVIEW)

2006-10-09T23:45:00.000+01:00

REVIEW: WIDE SARGASSO SEA, JEAN RHYS, BBC4, 2006

BBC 4's filmic adaptation of Jean Rhys's Wide Sargasso Sea is an exotic joy, stunningly filmed with glorious, lush production values and strong acting performances all-round. The musical scoring is especially noteworthy - evocative, mood-making, quite brilliant.

The production company behind this venture is Kudos - best-known for the brilliant BBC series Spooks - and there is definitely a contemporary feel to this, even though it is a period piece. The original novel, written in 1966 by Jean Rhys as a prequel to Jane Eyre, charts the story of Antoinette Cosway, (known in Jane Eyre as Bertha Mason), Edward Rochester's first wife - the notorious madwoman in the attic who has become a powerful feminist symbol of female entrapment by patriarchy in the nineteenth century. The novel is part of what is seen in literary circles as the 'writing back' movement, where modern writers are inspired to write their own alternate versions of well-known stories. In this instance, Rhys crafted a work, which resurrected the muted voice of Bertha Mason. Much of the tale is relayed as her first person narrative - although notably Rhys has given Rochester a narratorial voice too.

The novel is seen as an important work in postcolonial studies, exploring the life of a Caribbean White Creole - a woman living on the cusp of society, fully accepted by neither blacks nor whites. Rhys also explored the latent sexism of Charlotte Bronte's work, in that Rochester is granted a second chance - unlike his poor wife. Arguably Jane, while something of a feminist icon herself of course, is perceived as the acceptable face of womanhood - in stark contrast to Bertha, whose unbridled passions set her apart from society, a malignant symbol of non-femininity.

In Wide Sargasso Sea, after a passionate but brief courtship and an initially happy honeymoon, the mood soon sours as Rochester, led on by Antoinette's sinister half-brother, comes to believe that she, like her mother, is mad. Of course his fears are based on his own insecurity as a rather uptight English gentleman, who feels he is out of control, cut adrift on a strange Jamaican plantation, peopled by black servants and talk of magic. He is also distressed at his animal passions - again, a sense of losing control. His subsequent cruel rejection of Antoinette is shown to be the primary reason for her mental 'instability' - a punishment for her ardent, sensuous nature.

We don't miss a beat with this BBC4 adaptation, as scripted by Stephen Greenhorn. Brendan Maher's direction is striking; cinematography is simply stunning, augmented by lingering shots of mountains wreathed in magical blue mist. We have a powerful sense of the enchanted yet uncertain world Rochester feels he has found himself in. Hand-held camera-work and zoom lenses, in addition to some quickfire editing, occasionally intercutting various scenes with each other, subtly perpetuate a sense of uncertainty, with sometimes electrifying results.

Rafe Spall plays Rochester. He is portrayed here as a pretty loathsome character, even from the outset, and Spall, to his credit, carries off this role with some aplomb. Rochester is seen to be self-seeking, suspicious of novelty (he fears Jamaica), posh and sarcastic. A true cold fish. He is not trusted by Antoinette's Aunt Cora (Victoria Hamilton) who warns Antoinette - but she is too much in love.

Her passion for Rochester is evoked through a series of close, intimate scenes - the camera lingering on her graceful neck, his hands resting on her belly, and when they are married, by numerous graphic scenes of their love-making. Antoinette's erotic awakening is key to the tale and enacted with delicacy and charm by Rebecca Hall, who is simply wonderful in this role. She is artless, loving and wholly sympathetic throughout.

This is also a tale of Rochester's erotic awakening - but he is less pleased it seems to give vent to his passionate nature, hence he turns to loveless aggression, in a drive to reassert his self-control. He prefers to view Antoinette's free spirit as lunacy, and is suddenly revolted by her sexuality, deemed so unbecoming in an English gentlewoman. Thus he chooses to torment her by having loud sex with the maidservant Amelie within her earshot. He also decides to change her name to Bertha - a splendid scene where Antoinette loudly, angrily grieves the loss of her name, her sense of self, dismantled at will by her domineering husband in a desperate attempt to exert his control, to tame her.

It is genuinely hard to see any redeeming features in Spall's portrayal of Rochester - which is a fair reading of Rhys's novel, even though Rochester is genuinely paranoid amidst his strange surroundings, but proves unwilling to adapt. In the film, Christophine, Antoinette's nanny, played here by Nina Sosanya in fantastic form, is duly chilling in her obvious distaste for Rochester. Amelie (Lorraine Burroughs) is vile to Antoinette, calling her a 'white cockroach' - a term of abuse for a white creole. Antoinette tells Rochester that she has suffered this and other insults, 'white nigger', all her life ... but he is not interested in her harsh and isolating experiences, adrift on the racial margins of society, and he elects instead to defend Amelie, the aggressor in her confrontation with Antoinette.

There is a pleasing symmetry to this film - the opening scenes depict Antoinette/Bertha wandering the long, dark corridors at Thornfield with a candle in hand, awed by the looming portraits of Rochester's ancestors. She sees Rochester sleeping, and tenderly strokes his hand - a scene intercut with snippets recalling their love-making. The memory torments her. Wild-faced she turns and stares at a painting which depicts Spanish Town in Jamaica ... it is a useful framing device through which we enter the past, taking us to the start of the narrative with Rochester's arrival and his first meeting with Antoinette.

The film closes with Antoinette/Bertha staring at a mirror. Rochester tells her they are going home to where she can be looked after, although she reminds him that the doctors will say whatever he wants them to say. Notably we have had no true sign of Antoinette/Bertha's mental disorder by this stage - simply the genuinely-felt outpourings of a girl haunted by fear of rejection and dark memories, now forsaken by the man she loves, in callous fashion.

She is dressed in black, which is a fitting signifier of the mournful loss of her life, of all she loved, in return for unjust incarceration at the hands of a stranger. He asks her to trust him, to which she replies, 'how can I, when I know nothing about you?' Behind her black hat is a vase of vivid red flowers - a colour used in conjunction with Antoinette, representing her passionate nature, and once much-loved by Rochester who at one point insists she wears a low-cut red dress. Red too are the flames which engulf Thornfield and eventually Antoinette/Bertha as the action returns to the film's beginning. Which is in fact the end.

Since Wide Sargasso Sea was first published, in some ways the novel and its tragic protagonist have come to haunt Jane Eyre - just indeed as Bertha herself is a haunting presence in the original novel. This film is a fine companion piece to the current BBC series of Jane Eyre. Although much smaller in scale and scope than the grander Jane Eyre production, in many respects Wide Sargasso Sea is a piece of finer, stronger, braver filmmaking, offering genuine synergies of cinematography, motifs of light, shade and colour, narrative flow, character development and a lustrous, magnificent musical score. It is conceived as an exquisitely styled miniature rather than a sprawling, luxuriant epic, but both works have the potential to inform the other.

Indeed, it would be hugely interesting (and courageous) to see a Jane Eyre adaptation which was genuinely conceived in the light of Jean Rhys's novel; one which highlighted the postcolonial discourses, the sense of 'Otherness', of life at the margins, which is threaded through both these narratives. It would be gratifying too if this mythical adaptation genuinely, unflinchingly reflected on the sorry plight of so many women in the nineteenth century who were cast out of 'decent' society on sometimes unfounded but convenient grounds of madness. (It is well worth reading Elaine Showalter's The Female Malady for a fascinating insight into the dire extent of this practice). But such a scenario is unlikely, as this would entail debunking the romantic heroism of Rochester and would simultaneously destroy the romantic core of Charlotte Bronte's novel, one of the chief reasons for its persistent popularity ... but it would be an exciting venture, all the same.

For reviews of Jane Eyre : Episode 1, 2 and 3 and 4

Is The Departed quite what it's been cracked up to be? (REVIEW)

2006-10-09T18:14:00.000+01:00

REVIEW: THE DEPARTED, REMAKE OF INFERNAL AFFAIRS, 2006

Is The Departed quite what it's been cracked up to be?
In a word. NO.

But it is a fabulous film all the same with an especially powerful and moving performance from Leonardo DiCaprio as Billy Costigan - I for one sincerely hopes he gets an Oscar nomination for Actor in a leading role for this work.

Anyway, I don't want to be too spoilerific in this review, which I'll also try (and probably fail) to keep brief, as so much is being written about this film at the moment. There's no point regurgitating the plot to excess - it's being trailed just about everywhere - but in a nutshell: two Boston cops; Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon) is corrupt and secretly working for crime boss Frank Costello (Jack Nicholson), whilst Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) is dispatched from the force to work as undercover as one of Costello's favoured henchmen. Before long the police and Costello realise they both have a 'mole' - at which point Sullivan is hired to find himself.

Much has been said of the towering, bravura performance from Jack Nicholson - much of it hyperbolic and pandering. Having said that, he is effective and more than a little frightening at times. A Shakespearean villain in full, flamboyant flow. But he is very much mad, bad Jack as we know and love him. This role was hardly a stretch. I still think his best work in recent years has been About Schmidt and I adored Melvyn in As Good as it Gets - and to be brutally honest, I couldn't help but discern mild traces of Melvyn in Frank Costello, odd as that may sound.

There has been talk a-plenty that Nicholson might be nominated for an Oscar as 'leading' actor for this film. I certainly hope this is not the case. He is most definitely 'supporting' - even though he is the pivotal character throughout. The spine of the story, so to speak.

We definitely have two co-leads here, Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio; and to be honest, Damon has the bigger, though not necessarily meatier role. This is not to say he has more screen time, or that he is the hero - but Damon's Sullivan is the 'protagonist'. This narrative charts HIS character development above all, from his childhood, when his tender, young soul was effectively sold to the devil (Costello) through pecuniary desperation and a need for protection in the roughest part of Boston, to his seamless but duplicitous rise through the ranks of the State Police. Throughout, we just about see more of Sullivan's backstory and home life than any other character, and observe his development from smug to fearful, from morally moribund to self-questioning through to cold self-assertion in a desperate attempt to survive. Damon performs well here and certainly proves yet again that he is one of Hollywood's finest, most competent young actors. However, I much preferred Andy Lau in this role in the Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs, of which The Departed is so famously an adapted remake.

There is a certain froideur Damon brings to his personas on film, which often belies an inner turmoil or heated aggression. This enables him to successfully play characters who have double, deceitful or troubled identities. Indeed, he is a pastmaster at this type of role, and it is why he is ideal for Colin Sullivan who is embroiled in his own fiercely contested identity issues - eventually struggling to cope with the complexity of his own life. By the end of The Departed he is quite desperate to affirm his own sense of self, away from Costello - but in this film, such self-assertion is not allowed it seems. It is as though the invisible wheels of pre-destination are set in motion when one is a child - one cannot escape one's fate.

This is certainly true of Billy Costigan (DiCaprio) who has family on his paternal side who were famously active in Boston's seamy, brutal Gangland, (but notably not his own father). Due to a messy divorce, young Billy has managed to navigate an edgy path between two sharply-constrasting worlds: suburban middle-classville and inner-city underclass. As an intelligent and determined adult, (though still emotionally burdened by his confusing childhood), he becomes an undercover cop, forced to pal up with gangland boss Costello and engage in heavy-duty, gut-churning violence on a regular basis. It comes easily to Costigan while never dehumanising him in the process - perhaps it's in the genes?

Again, there is a sense that one cannot escape one's true self, one's fate. Indeed, this is precisely the argument Police Sergeant Dignam (a splendidly foul-mouthed Mark Wahlberg, though not quite as amazing as the critics suggest) and Captain Queenan (an uncharismatic performance from Martin Sheen) make to Costigan, when they recruit and re-train him for a life in subterfuge. They effectively exhort Costigan to tap into his dark 'Costigan' blood, and importantly, his Costigan contacts, to get close to Costello. It is relatively easy for Costigan. There really is a pent-up agression, a mania, raging to be let loose at any given moment, which typifies his progress throughout this film.

But there is also a searing vulnerability, an emotional rawness, which is truly heart-rending. It is no surprise that this friendless, rather frightening and extremely frightened young man, who is clearly intelligent and sensitive and desperate to love and be loved, completely steals this film. Nicholson's showiness as Costello is gaining the critical plaudits and possibly the honours too but this is a genuine tour-de-force from DiCaprio who completely inhabits his role as Costigan - and it was his emotional journey which enthralled me throughout and held my attention.

Vera Farmiga is the only standout female role as police shrink and Sullivan's troubled girlfriend Madolyn. She falls in love with Costigan, who is her patient - and frankly you can hardly blame her. Sullivan , in true sociopathic style, is shown to have precious little genuine interest in Madolyn's life and past as an individual beyond the confines of their own brief relationship. This is because he cannot reconcile his own discordant identity - the disjuncture between his cocky but deceitful adult self and his vulnerable child self which fears and worships Costello as the Svengali 'Daddy' who rules his life. He also suffers from bouts of impotence with Madolyn - again, a symptom of his inner confusion.

Madolyn is drawn to his brittle, glib charm, but soon repelled by his cold invulnerability. She is at heart a gentle soul, drawn to those who need her (like Costigan). Sullivan simply doesn't get why such an educated, accomplished woman as herself, could possibly want to earn so little doing the job she does. In some ways, Madolyn is the heart of the piece ... a soft, subtle, tremulous heart. And she is the only character with a future, with forward momentum. (BIG SPOILER AHEAD) Are we in fact supposed to believe that the child she is bearing at the end of the film is Sullivan's or Costigan's? I would like to believe it is Costigan's, and this is partly borne out by her forceful brushing aside of Sullivan at Costigan's funeral, even though Sullivan makes a plea on behalf of their child.

The most impressive small supporting role in this ensemble however, is Alec Baldwin as Ellerby, a gruff, cussing, witty bugger who has been downplayed in most reviews I have read so far. He is fully deserving of a special mention. Ray Winstone as Mr French has garnered good reports too, but he is never truly tested in this role - indeed any role?

As for the film itself - the setting, the cinematography, the direction, the scoring. On all fronts this is an excellent film, but not the formidable masterpiece being trumpeted by a determined phalanx of adoring critics and movie buffs. I have a lot of time for Scorcese. And yes I think it is a travesty that a director of his calibre, with his record, has never been rewarded with an Oscar. I also think his best work - for now at any rate - is well and truly in the past: Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Mean Streets and The King of Comedy. I also love The Age of Innocence. Goodfellas - to which The Departed been frequently and understandably compared - is exhilarating, suspenseful and also a much better film than The Departed in most departments (bar DiCaprio). In saying this of course, I am not dissing Scorcese's more recent works, which have regularly been superior to most other films on release.

The Departed is very long - even over-long. In this regard it lacks the snap and style of its Hong Kong forerunner Infernal Affairs. Many have praised the editing overseen by Thelma Schoonmaker. I'm not convinced. If anything this felt a little laboured at times, and some of the early scene juxtapositions are clumsily-executed. While it is good to see a contemporary film indulge at times in Old School-style ASLs which steer well clear of the 3-4 seconds commonly seen with so many super-quickfire, continuous editing vehicles blitzing our cinema and TV screens these days - I'll be honest and say that sometimes The Departed dragged - most particularly in the middle section and even towards the climactic end. In its favour, we have some remarkable lengthy scenes of high quality - for instance, when Costello confronts Costigan in a bar, aiming to ascertain his loyalty. Both actors are at the top of their game and the scene literally sizzles. There is another extensive, suspenseful scene between Sullivan and Costigan when they communicate, in tense silence, by mobile phone - neither daring to say a word.

Also in the film's favour, and in fact a true mark of excellence, is Scorcese's evocation of a threatening, violent atmosphere in the bars and streets of Boston's Southside. Indeed, Boston is lovingly portrayed - a generous move from a hardened New Yorker. Cinematographically the film is technically flawless, if a little pedestrian. Scorcese seems to have veered away from the sweeping cinematic vision of The Aviator and the obsessively intricate detailism of Gangs of New York and The Age of Innocence. This is not in fact a criticism. The Departed is not flashy and nor should it be. (That's for Michael Mann). But neither is it especially exciting either.

Narratologically the film is generally well-paced, if a little saggy at times. It works as a two-hander focusing on the twin tales of Sullivan and Costigan - but Nicholson's Costello becomes too large and unwieldy a force in the centre of the film which destabilises what needs to be a finely-poised narrative. Scorcese needed to rein Nicholson in or at least edit some of him out - but it is understandable that the gusto of his performance held sway. It's such tremendous fun! But it does undo a lot of Scorcese's good work. What could have been a tightly-woven, succinctly-constructed and gripping narrative becomes a bit of a baggy monster at times. It is surely a credit to Scorcese's consummate skill and experience as a director that this film still packs a powerful emotional punch - but it could have been so much better. The script, penned by William Monahan of rather dubious Kingdom of Heaven fame, is really rather good, stuffed full of witticisms galore (yes, this is often a very funny film) and neat verbal parries. It's sufficiently meaty material for Scorcese and his cast to work with well.

One final sour note - the music. Occasionally Scorcese's choice in performer and song is inspired, but by and large the musical scoring here is abominable - a travesty from the usually reliable Howard Shore. Not only is it abominable but it is bloody persistent too, pervading each and every moment - we rarely enjoy a moment's peace. Sometimes the scoring is little more than a ditzy-sounding syntho-poppy thing, bleating interminably in the manner of tasteless elevator muzak or a low-volume transistor radio which someone forgot to switch off.

So does The Departed match up to its source material Infernal Affairs? Yes, it does - just. I preferred the cut and thrust and pacey momentum of the Hong Kong original - but I was more moved by Leonardo DiCaprio than Tony Leung as the undercover cop (although Leung was marvellous too, which says more about how highly I rate DiCaprio in this instance). DiCaprio's story carried me through this film - not Nicholson's high-faluting antics and dark dramatics, nor even Damon's subtly enervated complexities.

Will Scorcese win an Oscar for this film? I haven't a clue, although there are many who feel violence a la Scorcese is not the Academy's bag. Frankly the violence here didn't over-awe ... it didn't really 'awe' at all actually, but then I'm a hard-boiled old thing who's seen and digested a lot of blood and gore, (in the cinematic sense of course). So with that in mind The Departed has as good a chance as any I guess to scoop top honours. I rather hope it doesn't, although I will be plugging for DiCaprio to take Best Actor for his scintillating work here.

Current REVIEWS on-site

2006-10-09T14:18:00.000+01:00

Current reviews on-site are: the BBC's Jane Eyre, Episodes 1, 2 and now 3; BBC1's Robin Hood; Children of Men, The Departed - and soon to follow, Wide Sargasso Sea.

Children of Men, a grimly beautiful cinematic feast (spoilers) REVIEW

2006-10-09T11:25:00.000+01:00

REVIEW: CHILDREN OF MEN, PD JAMES, 2006

I finally caught up with Alfonso Cuaron's Children of Men this weekend, a film based on the dark and chilling PD James novel. In short, the plot focuses on a tragically apocalyptic world set in 2027, a world dogged by a fertility crisis which has meant there has not been a new baby born at all, in over eighteen years. Wars have ravaged the planet, the environment is in a funk from decades of prolonged pollution and mankind is in freefall, offered suicide packs by the government which promise a quiet and painless demise. A totalitarian British government herds all foreigners ('fugees) into concentration camps and multiple terrorist groups seemingly stage bombings for fun. And yet, miraculously, amidst this angst and mayhem, a young woman, Kee, has fallen pregnant and seeks safety with the much-fabled 'Human Project' - a quasi-mythical settlement on the Azores, far away from the grime and misery of mainland Britain. The story charts Kee's desperate attempt to escape to a new life, accompanied by her protector Theo, one of fiction's unsuspecting heroes - a man who suddenly finds himself at the crossroads of history and rises to the occasion.

I should say for starters that I am a huge fan of Cuaron's work. He directed, in my opinion, the best Harry Potter film so far - by a country mile I might add. His work on Great Expectations and A Little Princess was eye-catching. And Y Tu Mama Tambien was one of my favourite films of 2001. He does not disappoint with Children of Men. Cuaron has an astonishing feel for the cinematic medium. Every single frame is crammed with visual delights. More than most directors he succinctly moves and moulds narrative with cinematographic brilliance and has a talent for deploying colour, or lack of it, when necessary. He genuinely paints a story for us with a magically illustrative visual vocabulary.

Here we are presented with a dank, rain-strewn world; a bleak, grey landscape, scarred by numerous power-stations belching thick smoke. The city streets are dirty, clostraphobic and crowded and buildings are graffiti-ed and fallen into disrepair. After all, what is the point of rebuilding a world which no-one soon will be able to enjoy? The only 'renewed' spot is the slightly surreal Ministry of Art, housed in Battersea Power Station, its interiors a spartan, gleaming white adorned by world-famous works of art such as Picasso's Guernica (very fitting) and Michelangelo's David, which have been 'rescued'. Here Theo meets his cousin, a government minister who claims to cope by not thinking about anything - but sure enough, we spot a huge, dummy pig wafting past the window.

The single point of pleasant respite in the entire film is the home of Theo's long-time friend and mentor, Jasper. His hidden settlement in the forest is a warm, friendly place, full of comfy furnishings, plants, music and animals. Indeed, young animals pervade this film - kittens and puppies galore - a sharp reminder that it is only mankind who has failed, who has shown incapable of surviving.

In addition to his aesthetic talents, Cuaron is also good at eliciting strong acting performances and here he fares well too, although perhaps not quite so well as former films. Having said that, Michael Caine is simply fantastic as genial hippy Jasper - a real scene-stealer. As indeed is Peter Mullan, an unsung hero of British filmmaking, who takes on the minor rumbustious role of Sid, the corrupt border official. Claire Hope-Ashitey is fine as Kee, the first woman in eighteen years to give birth, (her name is a little too heavyhanded symbolically), and Pam Ferris as her anxious guardian Miriam is passable, but this is not her best work by any means. Julianne Moore is one of Hollywood's greatest actresses but is really rather ordinary here - although her early death is shocking and raw. Chiwetel Ejiofor is always good value but a little under-used here as the idealistic Luke.

Clive Owen puts in a brave performance as Theo, the sourfaced, cynical everyman, who takes it upon himself to escort poor Kee to the sanctity of a ship headed for The Human Project. To do so requires a perilous journey, avoiding terrorists who wish to exploit Kee's baby for their own propaganda purposes, avoiding murderous thug-like British police officers, representatives of the State who would also exploit Kee's baby for their own propaganda purposes, or so Theo and Kee are warned - although Theo is dubious.

Their journey takes them to 'Bexhill' - a town turned notorious refugee camp, enmired in filth and despair, where a minor civil uprising is being quashed most violently by the authorities. The epiphany of the piece is when Theo helps deliver Kee's baby girl in a squalid room in this camp. Obviously it is hard to ignore the 'messianic' theme in play here, and this is further emphasised later when Theo, Kee and child escape from a bombarded block of flats, where miserable refugees are cowering in fear from the bomb blasts and gunfire which continuously rock the building. Kee's baby starts crying, a thin, reedy but unmistakable cry amidst the thunderous furore of warfare raging around them. Suddenly everyone stops. Many fall to their knees in prayer. Many try to touch the baby and her mother. Even the armoured police and militia hold fire, if only for a few moments, to gaze in wonder at this newborn life - only to resume their bloodthirsty battle seconds later ...

Of course there are blood-sacrifices. We know they're coming. But that doesn't make them any less powerful. Jasper resigns himself to a cruel death at the hand of the terrorists who are dead set on securing Kee and her child for their own political purposes - but in doing so, Jasper enables Theo, Kee and Miriam temporary respite and an escape. There are other surprising acts of heroism on the way. Marichka, played by Oana Pellea, is at first sight, a repulsive, grasping woman in the refugee camp, who frightens Kee. But this woman does all she can to save the mother and her child, and is finally resigned we fear to a certain death in the refugee camp as Theo and Kee spot fighter planes raining bombs down on Bexhill in the closing sequences. And then, of course, there is Theo. You know it will happen. It's how these types of narratives always work; but you still wish it didn't have to end this way.

There is alot to love in this film - and a lot to worry over. Most affecting for me was the news that Theo and Julian had lost their young child in 2008 to a flu pandemic - a death that clearly haunted and destroyed their relationship - though probably not their love. There is a very moving moment when Jasper recounts the sorry story of their loss to Kee and Miriam - not knowing that Theo is in earshot. The camera slowly closes in on Theo's face which is stricken at the memory. Saving Kee and her child thus gives him a second chance to save a child when he could not save his own.

BBC Jane Eyre - Episode 3 (REVIEW)

2006-10-09T08:19:00.000+01:00

REVIEW: JANE EYRE 3/4, CHARLOTTE BRONTE, BBC 1, 2005

And so to the third (and penultimate) episode of the BBC's period adaptation of Jane Eyre ... and what a pleasing episode it was. Susanna White's direction seems to have gained in zing, zip and imagination as the series has progressed and we had some lovely visual sequences to feast our eyes on this time round. Most exotic of all were flashback references to Rochester's time in the Caribbean and his love affair with Bertha, evoked by a delightfully dreamy cacophony of vibrant colours, and of course, her own sensual beauty.

'Flashback' was in vogue this episode as Jane made her own foray into her sad childhood when she was forced to return to Gateshead, host to her misery at the hands of the callous Reed family. As Jane enters the house she is haunted by the sounds of her cruel childhood experiences. We learn that John Reed, her primary torturer as a child, is dead and gone, but thankfully we are left with Georgiana and Eliza, his two ill-natured sisters who constantly snap and snarl at each other in splendidly catty fashion. Tara Fitzgerald as wicked Aunt Reed gets to chew the scenery in an extensive dying scene, although as a sure sign of my own innate shallowness, I couldn't help but admire the marvellously detailed painted wallpaper in her bedchamber while her death-throes were in full throttle.

However, this particular Jane Eyre being very much a two-handed affair, while Jane is away we also still have scenes set at Thornfield with Rochester and the Ingram House Party - primarily to demonstrate how Rochester has split off from his guests to mope over Jane's absence. At one stage he confronts Blanche to ask her what she 'really' wants, but we never get to hear exactly what that it is, nor can we really hazard a guess from her rather blank but pretty features.

On Jane's return we meet Mr Eshton again, off to investigate twins who can mentally communicate even when many miles apart - Jane and Rochester are almost frothing over with glee at being reunited, and the reference is all too clear that THEY too share such a bond. This is made clearer still as the lovesick duo discuss the possibility of parting pending his marriage, which is such a shame, as Jane makes such a big deal of settling in so nicely to Thornfield on her return, even telling Rochester when they first meet up again that her home is wherever HE is - a bit of a 'whoah steady on there' moment, until you remember this IS Jane Eyre after all, one of the greatest love stories in British literary history - so no need to panic. Her love WILL be requited.

A nice touch to their budding romance is Rochester's genuine interest in Jane's past - 'the deep, dark forests' of her childhood memories as he calls it. There is a very real sense of mutual intellectual engagement enacted pleasingly by Toby Stephens and Ruth Wilson - the latter barely able to wipe the loved-up smile off her face when she is in his presence. Of course Rochester cannot be so innocently joyous as we are reminded of his vivid past when he recounts his time in the Caribbean, describing it as seductive, mysterious, tantalising, dangerous - and again we see a profusion of scarlets, crimsons, pinks in flashback to his time there, red signifying Bertha in this production - and then his eyes flit anxiously to the dark tower where we (well, most of us probably by now) know she is imprisoned.

The sense that Bertha is watching events below is stepped up in this episode - we are aware of a figure watching through a window, accompanied by soft tinkling bells and lush but eery music. While the idea is a tad hackneyed, it is actually well-executed here to slightly chilling, even poignant effect. Particularly useful is the musical scoring which works extremely well in this episode - unlike the first two episodes I have to say. It's as though Rob Lane, the composer, really let rip with the romantic vibe, and it truly suits this section of the story.

At the half-way point through this hour-long episode we finally arrive at the lovelorn couple's eventual ardent declaration, preceded by what I consider to the most glorious passage in the entire novel, rendered well here by Ruth Wilson, when Jane floods forth with her feelings to an awed and moved Rochester. This is one of the most exciting and proto-feminist speeches in nineteenth century English literature - indeed, any literature, of any time - when Jane confronts Rochester with her desire to be free, to love, as any man, in spite of her being 'poor, obscure, plain, and little' now switched to 'poor, plain, obscure and little' - but quibbles aside, much is sourced almost direct from the novel, where Jane speaks so powerfully. Here there are a few adjustments for modern sensiblities, so for example, Rochester bids her become his equal through marriage, which is now telegraphed in the TV version by Jane's praise of her treatment at Thornfield as an 'equal'.

I am not usually one for seeking close adherence to a source text's original wording, but in this single instance, Jane's impassioned declaration of Selfhood is so intensely felt and strongly expressed, it would be a shame to meddle too far. Of course one forgets just how radical and effecting this novel was in its day. Here we had a heroine who acknowledged her sensual yearnings, who wanted to work and construct her own life, her own identity, who is damning of the foibles, fripperies and minutiae which consumed most women's lives at the time, trapped into a world of passive domesticity.

Jane and Rochester's final declarations of mutual love are set here in a damp, sunny glade. Toby Stephens's voice suddenly goes a little gruff and sore-sounding when declaring his own feelings for her, which half made me wish I could chuck the poor fellow a throat lozenge. He squeezes her close to his manly chest, and they finally kiss, and then kiss again, and again, before they run hand in hand through one of those impromptu CGI-ed thunderstorms complete with a quavering bright bolt of lightening that you sometimes get in TV land.

Just to be a true curmudgeon - was anyone else a little unimpressed with the happy couple's kissing style? It seemed to comprise a momentary smashing together of face and cheek at regular intervals, all well and good, but I was sure they kept missing each other's lips, which is clearly the primary object of the exercise. I hate to do this, but in comparison to the one shot we get of Rochester snogging the face off Bertha, Jane and Rochester's physical union seemed a little more staid and demure, despite their obvious mutual enthusiasm.

According to the golden rules of TV and cinema, Jane's blossoming love affair must instill a new sense of self-worth which is belied by her flourishing good looks and lustrous femininity, hence we have a slightly annoying scene where Ruth Wilson flounces around her bedchamber, long locks flowing, as she gazes lovingly at herself in a mirror. In fact this mirror is a rather laboured device throughout the series so far, charting Jane's self-esteem with her outward appearance, which is a very easily translatable behaviour of course. Jane drops her habitual dark clothing and dons a very pale almost-white-grey gown, reflecting her brighter mood. This is then mirrored at the end of the episode, once her dream-world has been sadly punctured, and she silently slips out of her brilliant white wedding dress and re-dresses herself in the gloomy grey garb we have come to associate with melancholic, sensible Jane.

We have forbodings of course that the wedding will not go well; kindly Mrs Fairfax's concern and irritation, Jane's nightmare and the rather scary moment when she senses someone is in her room at night and then finds her wedding veil has been torn. There is something all too desperate about Rochester's determination to march her uphill to her wedding in a sadly deserted church, and the news of his first marriage, when it comes from Briggs and then Mason, is far from surprising - more miserable than dramatic.

The same can be said for our eventual meeting with Bertha. Jane spots the red scarf, Bertha's symbol during this series, flapping in the open window. The look on her face is more disappointed than shocked - almost as though, like us, deep-down she knew this would happen all along. There is an inevitability to this turn of events which is captured well by her still, sad, tear-stained face.

Toby Stephens doesn't play Rochester as strident or hysterical or even particularly angered at how his dirty secret has finally come to light. He has the deflated air of a man who has finally been defeated, by himself. He recounts his misadventures in the Caribbean and we briefly see in flashback how Bertha descended into lunacy, as signified (a little crudely and chauvinistically perhaps) by her rapacious sexual appetites - and, most disturbingly, by a maniacal scene with Rochester, which darkly hints at a violent sexuality within their own tormented relationship.

Throughout his account, there is a strange three-pronged mark, livid and red, on Rochester's neck - did Bertha bite him, as she did her brother? Or did Toby Stephens have a rather frenzied encounter with his Phillishave that morning, which they forgot to conceal with make-up? Either way, the marks are distracting and disconcerting - a vivid reminder of the physical pain that has clearly been enacted in his relations with his 'wife.' At one point Rochester explains that he could have checked Bertha in to 'another' house he owns, where she would likely have lived and died a damp and sickly existence. Of course the fact he chose to incarcerate her instead in his bleak and gloomy North Tower does not especially salvage the situation, and I for one, was partly glad when Jane refused to open her bedchamber door to hear his pleas for mercy and a life of 'sin' which would at that time have condemned Jane Eyre as a sluttish outsider for the rest of her days.

And finally, two sweetly poignant moments stand out. In the church, as soon as Briggs and Mason explain how Rochester met his first wife in Jamaica, there is a fleeting look of mournful understanding on Jane's face, as she clearly recalls Rochester's embittered speech on the dangerously seductive qualities of that part of the world. She knows right then, that what they are saying is all too true. And then again, when Jane and Rochester return to Thornfield from the church, they are greeted merrily by the servants of the house with Adele, who shower them with corn and confetti - a pathetic irony in the circumstances.

Reviews of Jane Eyre, Episodes 1 and 2 and 4. Also Wide Sargasso Sea.

Robin Hood not so merry (REVIEW)

2006-10-08T20:22:00.000+01:00

REVIEW: ROBIN HOOD, BBC 1, 2006

Just a few thoughts on the BBC's new 13-part series of Robin Hood. This production, rumoured to cost £8m to make, has been scheduled in the family-friendly Saturday 7.00pm slot, effectively replacing Doctor Who - but I highly doubt this will prove to be anywhere near as popular. Pundits claims the SECOND episode is worth the wait; it had better be. This was very average I'm afraid.

First up, the sets are a rather shoddy affair. So, for example, medieval villages are clean, sanitised, neatly presented thatched cottages - no attempt at realist presentation or even a stab at fantasy genre instead.

Acting performances are middling at best. Jonas Armstrong as Robin of Locksley looks like he might grab a microphone and break into a Britpop ballad complete with Mancunian drawl at any given minute. Sam Troughton as cheeky chappie Much, Robin's best mate, is wearing thin already. His laddish banter during the opening scenes with Robin felt desperately contrived. At one point the Sheriff of Nottingham, played here with some panache thankfully by Keith Allen, tells Robin to say goodbye to his little friend 'Mulch' (Much is being dangled from castle ramparts by the Sheriff's soldiers). Robin retorts: 'His name’s Much', to which Allen quips, 'Well, he’ll be Mulch in the minute.' I was rather disappointed when this didn't actually come to pass. On current form he'd be little loss.

Maid Marion seemed a ballsy, lantern-jawed, won't-take-any-nonsense type of lass who even killed a fellow with a sharply-aimed hairpin of all things. So she could certainly prove a useful wee number in the battles we can be sure are soon to come and keep coming against the dastardly Sheriff and his henchman Guy of Gisborne, played rather uncomfortably by Richard Armitage. I didn't get much of a sense of the remaining cast as yet, although they have 12 episodes to flesh them out I guess.

I'm not certain I'll stay the course with this series beyond a few more episodes. It very much depends here on the old-fashioned art of storytelling. I did, however, like the usage of the Robin of Locksley myth, which was also deployed in the Kevin Costner Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves movie. Plus, there was certainly a fair deal of political mileage extracted from this plotline. Robin has returned from the Crusades with a strong distaste for War. In a heated exchange with the Sheriff, Robin claims that the war is 'not our war' but Pope Gregory's. The Sheriff says they stand 'shoulder to shoulder' with the crusaders ... a clearly deliberate echoing from screenwriter Dominic Minghella of the type of lingo used when discussing Britain's role in the Iraq War and Blair's 'shoulder to shoulder' attitude towards US warmongers. But it is clear that our populist hero wants no truck with such wars. While the analogy was pretty crudely effected, it was interesting that such a transparent comparative device could be utilised so easily.

On a slightly more trivial but peculiarly jarring note, my history books certainly never taught me that Max Factor was alive and kicking in the Middle Ages. But here we have both Maid Marion and a 'comely wench' who cadges a quick snog off Robin (thereby 'proving' to us dumb audiences, that despite his not-so-obvious attractions, this chap is dead sexy), literally caked in make-up complete with super-gloss lipsticks. Similarly annoying were the 'swoosh' location titles; supposed, I guess, to emulate the thrust of an arrow. They were a desperate and failed attempt to come off as trendy and postmodern, along with some rather unnecessary action replay stunts in slow-mo.

Oh well. Not chuffed for now, but will give the show a second chance.

BBC to produce six-part series re-telling Fairy Tales (NEWS/EDITORIAL)

2006-10-05T09:56:00.000+01:00

The BBC is set to produce a six-part series of modern, updated fairy tales, much in the mould of the successful Shakespeare Re-Told series in 2005 and the earlier 2003 re-telling of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, reports The Stage. Jane Tranter, BBC Controller of Fiction, has told The Stage, that this project is "substantial" and comprises six films, authored by six "significant" writers. The series will be filmed in Northern Ireland and has received funding from the Northern Ireland Film and Television Council. Shooting is due to commence next Summer with transmission expected late 2007 or 2008. Hat Trick Productions (with Mark Redhead, Head of Drama) will be making the series. The Shakespeare Re-Told series was produced by the BBC in conjunction with Horsebridge Productions and the BBC's The Canterbury Tales was co-produced with Ziji Productions.

Fairy tales likely to be modernised include Snow White, Hansel and Gretel and The Ugly Duckling - all of which have a 'dark' even sinister aspect, most particularly Hansel and Gretel which could be rendered really quite disturbing in a modern setting. If this series is anything like the Shakespeare Re-Told series then we are in for a feast. One wonders too what other potential 'Re-Told' series could be devised? There is still plenty of mileage with Shakespeare - perhaps narrowing specific series by genre: The Great Tragedies, for example, or The Roman Plays. Greek myths and legends could surely get an airing ... an adapter could have splendid fun re-inventing mildly trivial modern settings as host for fiction's grandest archetypes (although some would argue these same archtypes are already threaded through so much literary and filmic outplut).

However, my favourite brand for a new Re-Told series is great Opera stories - I'm pretty tempted to draft an outline myself for re-casting Mozart's works as contemporary domestic drama! The Da Ponte librettos especially would offer up some cracking material. And Schikaneder's The Magic Flute could cause a stir too, and has indeed been re-located recently in a filmic version by Kenneth Branagh, to the dank misery of the First World War. This is indeed the essence of 'adaptation' ...

And this is of course very exciting news if recent similar ventures from the BBC are anything to go by. I particularly enjoyed the 2005 Shakespeare Re-Told series, most especially the modern re-telling of Much Ado About Nothing starring Damian Lewis and Sarah Parrish, in sparkling form, as rival newsreaders who fall in love, and The Taming of the Shrew with an unforgettable, unmissable, downright saucy Rufus Sewell as a tempestuous transvestite. Shirley Henderson was marvellous, as always, as the Shrew - a work-obsessed Tory MP. Julie Walters also put in a memorably fantastic performance as the excitable and exciting Wife of Bath in the 2003 Canterbury Tales season, strongly supported by the ever-handsome Paul Nicholls as her young lover/husband.

Bernal to face off Bourne in 2007 Ultimatum? (NEWS)

2006-10-04T00:40:00.000+01:00

According to The Hollywood Reporter, Mexican star Gael Garcia Bernal might play baddie to Matt Damon's super-cool Jason Bourne in next year's The Bourne Ultimatum. Filming has already started in Tangiers, but a villain for the piece has not yet been signed up. Bernal would be a fabulous addition to an already hugely talented cast list which includes Damon, Joan Allen, David Strathairn and Julia Stiles (rumoured too to become more of a friend, even love interest, to Jason Bourne). Other potential filming locations include Madrid, Paris, New York, London and Riga.