Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘TV’ Category

baldhills
Bald Hills, one of many landscape scenes, where the Bolkonskii family lives

maryaabouttosubmit
Marya (Antonina Shuranova) submits to her father, Prince Bolskonsky’s (Anatoli Ktorov)’s instructions in geometry

Dear friends,

During the few months a group of us on Trollope19thCStudies were reading Tolstoy’s novel, and those before when I was listening to the novel read aloud (Books-on-Tape now on CDs), I watched four War and Peace films: three “mini”-series (I put mini in quotations since Bondarchuk’s Russian epic is 507 minutes; Jack Pulman’s exquisite BBC mini-series in 1972, 900 minutes, with the “short” version by Andrew Davies in 2016 clocking in at 6 hours and 19 minutes) and one cinema feature (Vidor’s 1955 Hollywoodized W&P a mere 3 hours and 20 minutes). These are not the only War and Peace films to have been made, but they represent what is available today (plus a 2007 mini-series that turns the film into a romance about Natasha Rostov), what is seriously watchable.

I begin with the one most written about: Sergei Bondarchuk’s truly epic War and Peace, filmed as a profound reaction against the Hollywoodized and Italianate War and Peace, directed by King Vidor, script by Mario Soldati, as a trivializing debasement of a book Russians are deeply proud of, a part of their national heritage. The interaction between these two has been taken as an episode in the cold war. I found the American-Italian film tedious but those interested might like to know you can read the script on-line, and read a brief conversation I had with people who were just reaching adulthood in the 1950s and were entranced by Audrey Hepburn (Natasha) and Vittorio Gasmann (as transgressive rake-male seduces elusive archetype). I’m glad the first film was made, as it led to the Russian gov’t and many individual groups, to say nothing of some spectacular artists in Russia at the time give their all to bring Tolstoy’s novel to cinematic life.

Bondarchuk’s War and Peace is still the most written about of all these and I am aware I shall probably fail to convey the experience, but perhaps a concrete description of its four parts can function to encourage others to attempt this film and (standing warned, knowing what you need to do or be prepared for as you start) overcome obstacles to enjoyment. More than the other two mini-series, you must read the book first. The 1972 BBC Pulman War and Peace almost succeeds in doing without a pre-read (but if you have read the book then you appreciate how extraordinarily the film gets in so many kinds of discourse from the novel). A synopsis will not do. But if you read and then watch and then re-read, the film will enrichen and add much to the book (especially the voice-over which picks up on Tolstoy’s darkest utterances).

Each time I would start a new disk, I admit, I felt un-eager because in the new digitalized version (2003, which is the one you must buy or rent) the faults of the original are on display too (which you need to know about): keep clicking “English” on the first paratexts and you will experience three languages: first, a voice-over narrator (very well done, dubbed in English, keeping you alert to or understanding what part of Tolstoy’s story we are in, and explaining what is the situation you are watching). Then there are the characters “inside” the frame who speak in French (no subtitles but it’s simple short French) or Russian (with English subtitles, not dubbed). The actors at the time respect decorums and are not wildly virtuoso in performances, they are not close-up to one another and the percentage of close-ups is small. Film affects us most deeply through faces — so that is often lacking. But then I would find myself engulfed all over again. The visual and aural create meanings the book can’t get near; it functions as a shooting script.

But then within a few minutes I’d be engulfed again.

The problem all the essays on Bondarchuk I’ve read have is no single or sequence of stills/shots or clips or montages can come near to conveying what it feels like to experience this vast assemblage of seemingly superabundant ever-changed, controlled and appropriate camera work from moment to moment. Scenes of vast and minute maneuvers in battle and horrific carnage (with literary hundreds of people involved for each sequence, thousands over-all) predominate, and for which it is probably most famous:

But Bondarchuk and Vasili Solovev’s script dramatizes just as surely the intimate and varied story-scenes of Tolstoy’s book, in society and at war, indoors and outdoors, between two or a few people, at a table and in crowds and ritual ballrooms and battle line-ups. I love the many atmospheric moments where dissolving clouds over a forest or some landscape or time of day or season are captured — all Woolf-like luminous envelope as life. Here’s a snow-filled shot of the sky and wood in Russian winter:

snowfilled

And by contrast, where a character stands frozen, prompted to remember his past as a bomb near-by spins and spins about to go off and we get revolving montages of flashbacks of memory; or we are at a savage hunt and experience the terror of the wolf (the POV) before he is (I hope not for real) hacked to death; or characters weep as one lies dying:

andreidying

natashacrying
Andrei (Viacheslav Tikhonov) dying and Natasha (Liudmila Saveleva) crying over him

or walk and talk about their philosophical differences, or chase after one another enclosed and amid beautiful plants. There are scenes of social life in vast drawing- and ball-rooms, war councils, the world of the Russian country house and its grounds and smaller houses around it are shown us; wild madness on a battlefield or besieged city:


Sergei Bondarchuk plays Pierre: here towards the end of the film he’s registering the irrationality and inhumanity of the world’s doings

On top of this, highly varied music from symphonies and classical compositions, original mid-20th century music, to folk music, to effective modern sound track accompanies many scenes. So I won’t try but instead tell how the film re-organizes the book into four coherent parts and makes the book’s themes and plot-designs more accessible (or simpler) than Tolstoy. Bondarchuk clarifies Tolstoy, like some neo-classical rewrite of Shakespeare. Bondarchuk has reconceived Tolstoy’s vast book sufficiently so the film carries a condensation and restructuring into four parts and yet seems to leave little out that counts.

*****************************

Part 1: Andrei Bolkonskii (140 minutes)

andreianatolekuragin
Anatole Kuragin (Vasilii Lanovoi) and Andrei Bolkonskii (Viascheslave Tikhonov) —

In his study of the drafts of W&P R.F. Christian says Tolstoy began with a low-life vicious aristocratic male, i.e., Anatole, for his hero, and gradually substitutes the intelligent ethical Pierre; in the book as we have it, Anatole seduces Natasha and ruins the secondary hero, Andreii’s life and dies next to him in a war hospital, so it’s fitting the first shot of both should be together as they enter the hollow party of Anna Pavlovna Scherer (Angelina Stepanova)

The story line takes us from when we meet Andrei who is weary of his wife, finds no meaning in the landowning and socializing roles he is given, leaves his wife with his family, and goes off to war only to discover its meaningless cruelties and hierarchical corruption. Within that story we meet Pierre Bezukhov at Anna Pavlovna’s drawing room, and take him past his father’s death, inheritance of vast property, and succumbing to Prince Vassily’s manipulations to the point he marries Vassily’s daughter, Helene, a woman whose amorality and promiscuous sexuality he cannot stand. This is punctuated (so to speak) by the Rostov world: the innocent Natasha, the repressed hurt Sonya, her dependent cousin, the two naive young men, Nikolai (not so naive he doesn’t go after Sonya) and Petya, the corrupt Boris and his sycophant mother, wild dancing on the part of the count, coarse worldliness in the countess. POV is Andrei’s much more often than Pierre’s; and is impersonal in the Rostov and Bolskonskii worlds.

inawood
Andreii’s father, old Prince Bolkonskii (Anatoli Ktorov) first seen walking through golden autumn woods, and to his side an unexplained string quartet plays music

It seemed to me after a while a deeply poetic part. The emphasis towards the end are these horrific visionary battles but before that, the countryside, the mansions, the sky, water, landscapes of stunning beauty — be it in the snow or in spring, or just aspects of color on the screen. They are there to express a vision of Bondarchuk’s own about Russian which he thinks undergirds Tolstoy’s own more socially-driven matter (and is reinforced by the conversations of Andreii and Pierre). There is some realistic psychology, though the playing is expressive rather than subtle. It’s intensely serious: it seems to trace Andrei’s disillusion and does end on a close-up of his face on the battlefield of Austerlitz where he is left for dead.

Part 2: Natasha (93 minutes)

natasha
Natasha Rostov (Liudmila Saveleva, not a star, but new presence) —

Most people pick the stills of her at her first ball, or enthralled either with Andrei or Anatole; here she is walking in a wood, the bright face of hope for which Andreii falls in love with her

The second part is like an inset novella, a domestic fiction, it is quiet. As Part One focused on Andrei’s story so Part Two centers on Natasha, taking her story from her child-like sexuality with the live-in Boris Smirnov in the garden,and her ecstacy for Sonia (Irina Gubanova) in love with Nikolai, Natasha’s brother (Oleg Tabakov, his role much shrunk). We see her with the Countess her mother (Kira Golovko) in the bed, preparing for her ball, how she fears no one will ask her to dance. We also have the story of Pierre carried on as substory once again: his despair with his wife, her adultery, Dolokhov’s mockery of him, the duel, his returning to his land and finally going to Andreii on his. How Andrei (returned to life, now a widower), is so taken with her that he loves her at first sight and asks her to marry him. Her mother has already brushed off Boris not from reasons of character, but his lack of rank and money.

Unlike the book and unlike the two BBC films or Vidor’s, Bondarchuk’s Andreii quickly realizes he was under a delusion, she is a symbol to him, and not a mature woman (as his wife was not mature and bored him), so his decision to wait in this film for a year is a holding tactic. This helps justify her turning to Anatole in this film. Bondarchuk is stepping back from this male patriarchal vision of the nubile, readily erotically enthralled, yet holding to it. We have her joining in intensely at the hunt, dancing wildly to folk music at Christmas (the uncle playing the violin), and then as the year passes, restless, feeling deserted, wasted, and riveted by a spell the libertine, Anatole, can perform on young women (so Bondarchuk seems to assume). Natasha comes near eloping; stopped with the help of Sonia and Pierre, this second part ends on her humiliation, remorse, begging pardon from everyone, including Pierre (showing up as the ever present kind brother) to ask him to ask Andrei to forgive her and he cannot — he is too rigid a man. Her face dissolves into the sky, and then a vast landscape with “1812” in large letters, and the voice-over narrator comes on to tell us of the irrational stupid waste of what is to come, and the huge armies cross into Russia (if you didn’t watch it, go back to the first YouTube).

part2natashabaddreams
Natasha having bad dreams

The second part contrasts to the other three: it is mostly very quiet, the acting is stylized. A young girl’s life and (temporary) downfall. The narrator functions more centrally here than the other three parts: he repeats his phrases, explicates, provides a depth of feeling; the English dubbed voice is very good; the subtitles too. This is accompanied by beautiful shots; it’s like being in a painting of Moscow, the countryside, especially the long Christmas sequence is appealing. A celebration of Russia, which for me is undermined by the misogyny of making women into sex objects, easily roused unthinking subject creatures.

Part 3: 1812 (78 minutes)

pierreandtushin
Pierre and Tushin (Nikolai Trofimov) brave soldier in the book

Our focuses slowly become Andrei and Pierre, one as conventional but disillusioned bitter military officer, the other increasingly shocked civilian. Andreii delivers sonorous meditative despair soliloquies; there are some quiet scenes of him now and again, first framing the phases and then inside them. Pierre is on the battle field like some deer in a headlights,continually more traumatized. The part begins quietly at the Bokonskii home — the scene of the old man refusing to believe Maria and the governess that the French are about to entry their territory, then forced to, and finally dying.

maryaandfather

He does ask Maria to forgive him as he does not in the other two films. These are interwoven with a vast scene of a ball at which the emperor Alexander I appears, and the coming battle is announced. We are at the Rostov home too where the young boy, Petya insists on going out to fight and the countess, his mother is devastated. During the battle we move back and forth from the famous General Kutusov (Boris Zakhava) on one hill and Napoleon (Vladisla Strzhelchik) on another.

napoleon

Napoleon is presented as a grim fate (how he sees himself) without conscience or feeling. (Pulman’s 1972 is much more nuanced while blaming him; Davies’s 2016 has him as originally a revolutionary and refuses to forget that; Bondarchuk is closest to Tolstoy). Kutusov cannot at first accept that the Russians have been defeated; he did not want to do this battle and he is crushed to realize they have lost. but then draws victory out of this defeat by realizing in front of us that winning a war is not the same as winning a battle. His business is to save lives and his heroism is to refuse another battle.

At the close of this third part as in the close of the first, Andrei has been badly wounded — worse we eventually realize, and this time he will die, slowly. Nearby a man is moaning fearfully in his death agon as his leg is amputated; this turns out to be Anatole. And across the way Andrei sees Dolohov who seduced Natasha near death. Perhaps this second pairing is too neat parallel — Bondarchuk offers us patterned visuals like this throughout his film (like Shakespeare in his Henry VI plays).

bondarchuk1812

This is a more stunning depiction of war than I’ve never seen before quite. I have seen effective anti-war films, and late last October Kilo Two Bravo — but it was implicit, focused on incidents, much more narrow. What is terrific about this is the size and scope of the scenes, and the relentless ruthless condemnation of war as horrific, senseless, cruel, utterly irrational at the same time as vast, wildly heroic, chosen. All these people (as Tolstoy says) are not forced. They choose to do this. The final focus scene is the battle of Borodino not far from Smolensk, which led to the scorched earth policy, the fleeing of all middle and upper class people from Moscow, and Napoleon’s defeat because there is no one for him to negotiate with as his army falls apart into marauding. I knew exactly where everything was, what was happening. This is due to the over-voice impersonal narration — invaluable. We meet the great famous Kutusov in his councils, falling asleep at the same time as ever vigilant; he contrasts to Napoleon on the other, at first all square-faced steely-firmness, stoutly glad, but when in Moscow shown up for the petty egoist (this is Tolstoy’s interpretation) he is.

Vast scenes of carnage of all types, sometimes close up, sometimes aerial, sometimes from the side, sometimes full face. Close up of men suffering in so many ways while at the same time they fight on determined like some crazed machines started who can’t stop (the narrator says something like this). The suffering horses, the animals. Canons, bombs, grapeshot, lines of men shooting, the guerillas, bombs blow up everywhere: this is not fakery, they are doing controlled versions; real live generals were consulted, all the Russian hierarchies involved it seems.

anotherscene

The part has to be watched. It outdoes the battle scenes in Part 1 — so vast and thorough and believable they manage to make it. It is a deep contrast to Part 2 an inset domestic novel.

Part 4: Pierre Bezukov (92 minutes)

grieving
Kutusov quietly grieving after he has had the courage to tell the council they will not try to stop the French from entering Moscow (nor will he try to cut them off as they leave) …

pierre
Pierre during the trek starving frozen from Moscow

So now finally Bondarchuk (he gave himself the hero’s part though he’s not handsome) comes forth as primary story; as in Pulman’s 1972 BBC W&P there is a parallel between him and Kutusov at times. It’s about the horrors of war (yet more), another phase. We see panicked people, fleeing, and go through the scenes of the Rostov’s reluctant and utterly disorganized withdrawal from Moscow, with Pierre’s mad choice to stay in order to find and kill Napoleon. The place catches on fire, he becomes distraught, saves a baby, is captured as a dangerous incendiary, and imprisoned, then almost killed by a firing squad with our viewing the others murdered in pairs so senselessly.

mowcowonfire
Moscow on fire — we should remember how this would resonate in 1966 for a Russian audience

execution
From the execution scenes

The over-voice is frequent: the words come from the beginning chapers where Tolstoy’s words in effect damn these apparently helpless people. Why are they doing this? Why are they slaughtering one another? slaughtering horses? senselessly killing killing killing. Why do they obey the Napoleons of the world? Napoleon admits he must return, is humiliated, and we experience that long trek with Pierre and his new found guru, Platon (the idealistic peasan, Mikhail Khrabov) gradually distancing from one another as Platon begins to die, and ends up shot because he can’t keep up, the pathetic dog howling. The words of the overvoice are grateful that Platon is out of this (Bondarchuk does not use Platon as a mouthpiece for optimism or God’s presence as Tolstoy does). Kutusov seen carrying a weight of immense concern and pity.

platon
Platon falling behind, the soldiers go to shoot him

The episode concludes towards the end by juxtaposing the long drawn out death of Andreii who the Rostovs unknowingly took with them from Moscow in a wagon, but not naturalistic (as in Davies’ 2016 where we see this), the experience is visionary, intendedly religious. The camera moves up to Andrey’s face and he dreams: he remember his scenes with his father, the land, terrible killing, and we see Natasha there telling him he’s not dying. But he tells her he loves her, he forgives her (the sense of there is nothing to forgive). Visionary sequences of land and sky signalling some powerful God-like presence. It does end quickly after that. After the rescue of Pierre, quickly done, Petya even quickly gotten out of the way in his senseless death (the point here is the mother’s grief and father’s loss, which is too quick, like a caricature). We see Pierre riding through a Moscow being rebuilt and arrives at a house where we find sitting Natasha and Marya (both in black) with little Nikolai (Andreii’s son by his first now long dead wife) by their side. Marya shows Pierre the new boy, and Natasha is there at last grown up in black and we hear the lines how if he were free and a better man, he’d marry her. (Nikolai and Sonia have long been lost from view.) Then Bondarchuk concentrates on visions of the sky and universe as places of oblivion and peace at the close.

laststill

What jarred me at the close is the over-voice suddenly insists life is good, the world is beautiful.

***************************

Still an extraordinary film. Like many others who have seen it, I think it is a filmic realization by one genius accompanied by thousands of willing people of a great book.

A solid ethical perspective, beautifully filmic art, an important masterpiece of film.

This new DVD has a fifth part, features with interviews of some of the original film-makers and actors. You can see the extraordinary seriousness with which the film-makers, production designers, actors, everyone set about their task together.

“One truth discovered, one pang of regret at not being able to express it, is better than all the fluency and flippancy in the world.” –William Hazlitt

Ellen

NB. Blogs on War and Peace to come: the 1972 BBC War and Peace, scripted by Jack Pulman, starring Anthony Hopkins as Pierre, a masterpiece, follows and is inspired by Bondarchuk; then Andrew Davies’ 2016 W&P follows and is inspired by Pulman and Bondarchuk. Pulman chose some of the same central scenes, Davies some of the same visionary moments.

Read Full Post »

2015francisep3

2015francistorossep4
Kyle Soller as Francis with his son, shaking hands with Ross (Episodes 3 & 5, second season)

Dear friends and readers,

It’s been over three months since I last wrote about the second season of the new Poldark: on the two episodes which dramatize Francis Poldark’s (Kyle Soller) having finally found and accepted himself, becoming the man, husband, father, cousin (brother really) he’d always wanted to be, and then his tragic (accidental, ironic, useless) death by drowning: 2 Poldark 4-5: exemplary and tragic heroism. I’d been having enormous technical difficulties watching the second season on my BBC iplayer, and when I saw that Amazon.uk was making available the complete scripts for the second season when they would begin to sell the DVDs for the second season, I decided to wait for both before writing any more blogs. I did finish watching the second season using the BBC iplayer but knew I had missed so much.

For example, I had no idea that the episodes were opened with Eleanor Tomlinson singing the folk song she first performs the first Christmas after she and Ross wed and go to Trenwith (see Series 1, Episode 4, p 245), no idea the soft acqua-colored waters were the palette for the second year’s opening. It matters what song a series opens and closes with, what pictures (this time more of Demelza) we see; these set the mood, the realm we enter into and then provide closure.

paratextfor2ndseason

paratextforsecondseason
From the paratexts and opening and closing music of the 2nd season

It’s feminocentric to use a word now fallen out.

Well the DVDs and second season scripts arrived early in December, and it has taken me all this time to first re-see the first season or year (all 8 episodes), read the complete scripts for the first season (and read/skin, look at Graham’s Ross Poldark and Demelza once again), and watch the second season or year (all 10 episodes) and read the scripts up to Episode 5 once again (reading Jeremy Poldark and beginning Warleggan). (I do other things.) Before I resume with Episode 6 (the equivalent of one third into Warleggan), I’d like to look at the first new season as a whole for a second time. The first time when I had come to the conclusion Horsfield and her film-making team and actors were consciously creating a new mythic matter, I hadn’t been able to read the scripts. I first found the scripts for the first year this August while I was in Cornwall in a Cornish bookshop. Before that, who knew?

Scripts are of enormous importance in understanding and enjoying a film. It is after all not the novel the actors are realizing, but the scripts. And the words go by so quickly, much is missed and in my experience we get a distorted memory view of what we saw and heard.

aidanturnermaginificent
Aidan Turner as Ross (Episode 1, first season)

demelza
Eleanor Tomlinson as Demelza (Episode 8, first season)

I see some of the same flaws (or problems) in the new series (e.g., too much and quick juxtapositions) and some of the same differences from the 1970s older Poldark (e.g., the older series was more comic, more subversive in outlook), and also some of the improvements (the new series is actually literally closer to the novels at key points), but want to do justice to mainly to the dialogue which is much much better than I gave credit for. Also in the scripts you have Horsfield’s descriptions of the settings, her comments on how the actors should be behaving, looking, their actions. There is close continuity and give-and-take between the characters as they speak and act; the psychology comes from all these things. While reading I sometimes found that the realized scene was less subtle than it felt while reading, sometimes too hurried, too declamatory, too melodramatic for what the words were implying. By reading the short juxtaposed scenes on the page you can see the continuity more, feel it.

In addition, there is much lyricism in the language, as well as the acting and movement or rhythms of the music and action. It’s this latter I most want to call attention to: how there is an overall pattern-like effect across season 1 in the best episodes. Horsfield wanted less complicated language, because she was fitting everything together as a kind of projected world view of another time and different kind of people (almost). Think about the repetition of Aunt Agatha (Caroline Blakiston) and her tarot cards; how these recur and are pointed with the dialogues between her and Elizabeth (Heida Reed), the scene of wreath-making with Demelza, Prudie (Beatti Edney), and Jinny (Gracee O’Brien) picking up refrains of the song, Jud a low-voiced (Phil Davis) grunting

episode1laingcardsdown
Aunt Agatha laying an ominous card down

The relationship of Demelza and Ross is a slow developing romance and the many short dialogues where they seem not to be saying any new or much are part of a patterning. Francis’s in effect deterioration and self-punishment and destruction of others works this way: short patterned scenes with George (Jack Farthing). Then there are the rituals, which include the auctions I now feel. Elizabeth and her baby, Geoffrey Charles, with a butterfly.

And there is much more inward than I had realized. Much is brief pointed still and swift dialogue but the two together and repetition does it: these two are characteristic of the first season:

desolate-1
She desolate

desolate-2
He at work

A couple of examples and I’ll have done. I’ve picked two sequences for their typicality. The first is a piece of the long scene where Ross first sees Demelza beaten by young men when she tried to rescue her dog from serving as torture for entertainment and everyone else looks on and laughs. Notice the class commentary, the nuances of immediate motives intertwining

tyingdogstail
Early still: the boy grabs and ties the dog’s tail

firstview
Demelza held back for a bit as she desperately tries to rescue her dog

65. EXT. TRURO, MARKETPLACE …. ROSS’S POV: George, Cary and other gentry, all braying with laughter.
Something hardens in his expression. Calmly he moves forward, pushing through the crowd. Then he sees something which makes him hesitate:
ROSS’S POV: Elizabeth pushing forward to see what’s going on, followed by Francis. As they get nearer, Elizabeth turns away in distress.
This kind of baiting disgusts her.
ON ROSS: Knowing that if he steps forward he must eventually encounter Elizabeth. But how can he not step forward? Calmly he takes his riding crop from his boot and walks towards the young gentlemen. They are young, all them fully convinced of their absolute right to do as they please.
POV THE CROWD: Some cheering, some curious, most expecting the newcomer (Ross) to join in with the tormenting.
ON THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN: Some of them notice Ross approaching. They see his expression and start to run.
ROSS: Enough!
One — a young man with an arrogant face — stands his ground and sneers defiantly.
ROSS: If you’ll take my advice, you’ll run.
YOUNG MAN: Or else, sir?
Impassive, Ross hits him across the face with his whip. The man shrieks and flees, clutching his face.

macneil
Henry Garrett as Captain MacNeil

Now a sequence of quick scenes: we have just seen Captain MacNeil questioning Ross and Demelza (with Ross telling Demelza not to “underestimate Captain MacNeil”), Ross getting Elizabeth’s letter about Verity’s elopement whose tone to him worries him, the brief focus on Blamey and Verity’s “first meal together,” Demelza’s fearful POV with Garrick near,

verityblamey
Ruby Bentall as Verity, Richard Harrington as Captain Blamey

demelza
Demelza after Ross and MacNeil gone, before it darkens

Ross on the beach hiding the oars, then first dialogue of Dwight coming to Demelza’s house, move to darkened Trenwith:

59. INT TRENWITH HOUSE. Elizabeth is doing her household accounts when Ross is shown in .
ROSS: I came as soon I could. How’s Francis?
ELIZABETH: He’s half a mind to go after her .
ROSS: Persuade him against. He’s no match for Blamey.
ELIZABETH: Or Verity. For I think she’s now the bolder of the two.
ROSS Certainly the most reckless.
ELIZABETH She has the courage of her convictions. Which I applaud even if I seem to disapprove.
A brief moment between them. The merest hint that Elizabeth wishes she too had the courage of her convictions. Then Francis barges in.
FRANCIS Well, Ross, are you pleased with your handiwork? Clearly it was you who helped her.
Ross is looking at Francis in utter bewilderment.
ROSS: I? Arrange Verity’s elopement? Have you taken leave of your senses?
CUT TO:
60: INT. NAMPARA HOUSE, KITCHEN – NIGHT 58
Demelza’s anxiety mounts (as she realizes what Ross is planning tonight – Mark s escape – and how it might be compromised by Dwight’s arrival).
DEMELZA: I – I don’t think Ross would want you here —
DWIGHT: Have I forfeited his good opinion? Or his trust?
DEMELZA: Oh no, not that, but — he has business tonight — and mebbe visitors-
There is the sound of someone tapping on the window. Demelza almost leaps out of her skin.

markdaniels
Matthew Wilson as Mark Daniel’s fierce face to Dwight (Luke Norris)

rossandfrancis
This is Ross and Francis talking, wrestling, POV Elizabeth

Followed by Paul and Mark Daniel rushing into Demelza’s house, “soldiers everywhere,” and then paired scenes of different kinds of anger: the long-time smoldering and nuanced digs and anger of Francis and Ross, Elizabeth failing to moderate, with the blazing hatred of Mark and guilt of Dwight, Demelza panicking. The language refers us back and forward to next sequence, with action and nuanced descriptions of what is happening. One sequence seems to have closure with Ross succeeding in seeing Mark off, and outrunning the soldiers, back into the house, the other Elizabeth’s indignation. Demelza’s walk to Francis, confession; there is a separate sequence of the Carnemore Copper Company members now bankrupt because Francis has told George the names; and finally much longer (appropriately) Demelza telling Ross what she has done, said to Francis, and (as in the book) Ross’s adament anger at her betrayal and refusal to soothe her. A telling aspect of this is in the book the narrator (Graham) makes the point the woman is to be sacrificed to her family and leaves us feeling how both Demelza and Verity were to make their lives dispensable, and emphasizes Demelza’s fault is that she lied to Ross and has lost his trust; while Horsfield comes down hard on the demand everyone consider the group first:

rossadament

98. INT. NAMPARA HOUSE. DEMELZA: Can you forgive me?
ROSS: I will try.
DEMELZA: But Francis will not.
ROSS: No.
DEMELZA: And you will not forgive him. And I’ve caused a
rift between the two sides of our family.
ROSS: Yes.
DEMELZA: I will never be happy until it’s healed.
ROSS: Then I’m afraid you’ll be unhappy for a very long time.

The 1970s (as it does several times) elided over this discomfort, Ross scarcely scolds Demelza (Francis’s cursing it was felt perhaps was enough) but the conflict and meaning is lost while here if another side is taken, you do see what’s at stake. Essentially it is a fight between the men over women and if you look at the stills matched, you see men angry at one another over women, women trying to stop this, or mourning — a rare moment of more light is on Verity and Blamey at a late supper.

The epitomizing stills are things like flour kneeded into bread, location is one of the characters, and the use of light and darkness and angles at which characters are shot:

onthebeach
Ross and George on the beach (Episode 7 of first season)

finale-2
Demelza by the cliffs (episode 8)

People remember the visuals best, but the words, sounds, dialogue are what gives the experience the meaning in our minds too. I did wish there were more of camera angles and shots in the scripts; they are rather written to resemble novels. But there is enough.

Next Poldark blog will be brief recap of Episode 5 and move into Episode 6 of the second season.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

thecrown
The ultimate symbol of power

You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain — Richmond, Henry Tudor, RIII

Dear friends and readers,

This week I’ve been watching the BBC versions of the second season (2016) of The Hollow Crown. Three plays (Henry VI, 1-3) at one time, or for a couple of hundred years thought such juvenilia that Shakespeare did not write much of them, seen as incoherent undoable (on the stage) obscure messes, were made to speak home to us in thrilling relevant ways. A fourth (Richard III) once seen as a vehicle for almost camp histrionics, becomes a serious study of how an evil character forms and how such a man gets behind him sufficient powerful people to put him in charge and in the process becomes a haunted crazed warrior-soul. I won’t be dealing with the obvious parallels between the present dire moment in public US politics (and less frightening but still urgent parallels in other countries), but just assume my reader will see them. If you will watch these brilliant abridgments, then read Shakespeare himself (the full texts), and then watch again. If you think I am exaggerating, remember (or I need to tell you) that the wildly-popular Games of Thrones began as a free semi-fantasy adaptation of these Shakespeare’s plays by George Martin (who read them as history of “the wars of the Roses in the Middle Ages”).

A little background in recent performances will help. One scholar-critic says it was in 1953 that the four plays of the Wars of the Roses were staged fully and in sequence for the first time (Brockbank, “The Frame of Disorder”); another dates this back to 1906 (Swander, “The Rediscovery of Henry VI“). Then in 1978-79 Terry Hands staged the Henry VI trilogy (“warts and all”) and the production was a terrific success. Then the 1980s the BBC staged all four plays as closely as possible to what was written by Shakespeare as part of The Shakespeare Collection. I can vouch personally that in the 1970s Joseph Papp in the Delacorte Theater one summer did all three Henry VI plays complete followed by a complete Richard III in repertoire across the summer; on an all-night marathon all four played from 9 at night to whatever time in the morning they ended. Jim and I were there, and I know I slept through some of Henry VI Part 2 and again part of Henry VI Part 3, but saw most of the series, covered by a blanket. Why for so long were these plays not long after Shakespeare’s era thought impossible to have a success with: episodic structure, pageantry, stilted lines (let’s admit it), to say nothing of the foreignness of the story-matter?

fatherandsonamidcarnage
A father and son pair amid the carnage

But with the whirligig of time leading audiences to recognize in the deeply pessimistic content and political insight of these stories, the content attracted once again. The Tudor matter is not a barrier after it has been made so familiar by her recent resurgence of popular historical films and adaptations (especially of Henry VIII’s court). So abridgments began to emerge. A specific pattern can be seen in three compressions: a film-culture Shakespearean, Alan Dessin (Rescripting Shakespeare), was the most helpful in enabling me to understand what we see in this abridgment in his descriptions of three previous condensed abridgments: 1988 ESC by Michael Bogdanov, 1988-89 RSC by Adrian Noble, and 1991-3 OSC by Pat Patton (“Chapter 7: “Compressing Henry VI“). What’s common to them all is the three parts of Henry VI are compressed into two, with Richard III following the same trajectory as Shakespeare’s play, but made shorter, to leave room for location shots, some re-arrangements and additions taken over from the previous plays for connection (in the appearances of Margaret for example) and satisfying climax. It’s much less changed than the Henry VI plays, which may be said to be re-vamped for TV and location shooting too. That’s what we see in this new Hollow Crown, with a few important new emphases or differences. As with the first season (2012) of The Hollow Crown (Richard II, Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2, and Henry V, a Henriad so-called), the roles of the women were not so much expanded as given full play, all the original nuances, emphases and pivotal moments played up for all they are worth. Strong women everywhere. Silent women clearly there in the scenes (Doll Tearsheet in the Henry IV plays) given plenty of pantomime. This may be history as Jane Austen suggested “the men all good for nothing,” but it’s not “hardly any women at all.”

lindsayduncan
From the powerful memorable performance of Lindsay Duncan as Duchess of York pleading for her ne’er-do-well son’s life before the king: she does not sue to stand; she sues for pardon (from the 2012 Hollow Crown series, Richard II)

More to the point these are not “tiresome at all,” nor dull” (Austen as Catherine Morland on history, Northanger Abbey) and not exactly “made-up.” I am persuaded these marvelous Shakespeare series are the old-style BBC mini-series, brilliantly updated marvelously: they keep some of the sterling qualities of the old: lingering pace for inwardness, profound acting, extraordinary dramaturgical brilliance in staging scenes, but to this has been added the way the actors speak the lines. They talk the lines as if they were speaking today’s English and yet they make clear what they are saying by action, gesture, costume, emphasis, nuance. Ben Power, the script-writer has cut astutely, omitting, re-arranging, picking up what epitomizes, what is closest to street or ordinary talk. It’s just astonishing what they achieve by the outstanding performances, saying the speeches so naturally.

gardenscene
Far shot of garden scene: where the two sides of York and Lancaster pluck the red and white rose

To this has been added, the use of the locations – the locations become actors in effect themselves, each old castle, fortress, field; these are not staged plays as in the 1970s and 80s, but figures in large picture screens where sometimes we have a staged scene but never allowed to become wholly still. The director Dominic Cooke is so alive to how to emblematize, make bodies move, and intersect with one another and yet the added action does not distract. The camera work is as sophisticated as any expensive cinema production, with zoom, medium, far shots at the right moment, and so many close-ups done at interesting angles. I wanted to watch again and again because there was so much to see — and even more in the more mature first Henriad series (which I’ll blog about this quartet eventually too).

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 01/05/2016 - Programme Name: The Hollow Crown: The Wars Of The Roses - TX: n/a - Episode: The Hollow Crown: The Wars Of The Roses (No. Henry VI Part 1) - Picture Shows: *STRICTLY NOT FOR PUBLICATION UNTIL 00:01HRS, SUNDAY 1ST MAY, 2016* Gloucester (HUGH BONNEVILLE), Talbot (PHILIP GLENISTER), Plantagenet (ADRIAN DUNBAR), Warwick (STANLEY TOWNSEND) - (C) Carnival Film & Television Ltd - Photographer: Robert Viglasky
Principal male roles: beyond Gloucester, Talbot (Philip Glenister, Plantagenet (Adrian Dunbar), Warwick (Stanley Townsend)

What else? This second series of Hollow Crown (though Shakespeare’s first) is done as a single story. All three plays (originally four) are one continuation. The abridged or compressed Henry VI Part 1 opens with death of Henry V, grief, and declaring a baby king, and then we see an intertitle to 17 years later and a scene where Mortimer, father (Michael Gambon) of the Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York (Adrian Dunbar), is dying; Mortimer tells his son, he is the rightful heir. What happened was years ago Bolingbroke wrongly took the throne from Richard II, and Mortimer and his sons were next in line. The camera cuts to Henry VI (Tom Sturridge) a well-meaning boy, with the Humphry, Duke of Gloucester (Hugh Bonneville) nearby as his protector. We then move to the symbolic scene in rose garden where the Duke of York and his followers on one side, declare the House of York should have the throne, with the Duke of Somerset Ben Miles) and his followers on the other saying they or the House of Lancaster should have inherited after Richard II. Each plucks a rose: white for York, red for Lancaster.

**VIDEO GRABS FROM BBC PREVIEW SITE FOR MOS PICTURE DESK** THE HOLLOW CROWN, BBC SHAKESPEARE ADAPTATION. Hugh Bonneville, playing the Duke of Gloucester, gets murdered while a couple make love during the same segment of the programme. The lovers are Sophie Okonedo playing Margaret and actor Ben Miles
Promotional shot of Hugh Bonneville, as Gloucester, fleeing those intent in putting him in the tower while the couple who brought this about, Sophie Okonedo as Margaret and Ben Miles as Somerset, make love

Looked at from this vantage what we trace is the destruction of the realm under a weak if honorable king, and story of the brutal wars of the roses, starting with York and Somerset’s competition for what Henry VI and Gloucester are not strong enough to hold onto. The compressed Henry VI Part 2 ends with Henry VI, disthroned, without followers, without clothes, distressed, in a kind of nervous breakdown, having lost all his followers and his wife (and relieved to have done so), wandering in the fields looking Christ-like in undergarments (and surely they mean to evoke Ben Whisloaw who played Richard II in Henriad series of the Hollow Crown) as he is dressed closely similarly; both are filmed to look Christ-like. Both are taken to prison, both murdered: Henry VI by the Duke of York’s deformed hunchback seething son, Richard, now Duke of Gloucester (Benedict Cumberbatch just as effective as everyone says) who is (“sudden when he takes something into his head”) rides to the tower intent on killing.

A little rewind: Shakespeare wrote the Henriad, the one the BBC did four years ago first, even though chronologically the Henriad comes second. Henry VI-Richard III were written 1590-93 and more or less in a row, while Richard II, Henry IV 1-2 and Henry V were written 1595, 1597, and 1599 respectively The Henriad is the more mature, and in numerous ways the more subtle, psychologically full and philosophically suggestive and varied but its story came first. Today we’d say Shakespeare wrote a four play prequel to his successful four play trilogy. But the second four plays were written as two or three stories: the story of Richard II is so separate in feel and time from the stories of Henry IV and V, a different man played Bolingbroke who became Henry IV (Roy Kinnear in Richard II; Jeremy Irons in Henry IV). The Henriad’s hero in Richard II never comes back in the other three plays. All the important characters in Henry VI Part 1 come back in Parts 2 and 3 and Richard III (even the murdered ones as ghosts).

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 01/05/2016 - Programme Name: The Hollow Crown: The Wars Of The Roses - TX: n/a - Episode: The Hollow Crown: The Wars Of The Roses (No. Henry VI Part 1) - Picture Shows: *STRICTLY NOT FOR PUBLICATION UNTIL 00:01HRS, SUNDAY 1ST MAY, 2016* Henry VI (TOM STURRIDGE), Margaret (SOPHIE OKONEDO) - (C) Carnival Film & Television Ltd - Photographer: Robert Viglasky
Henry VI (Tom Sturridge) and Margaret (Sophie Okonedo) meet

So in this trilogy there are two major characters across all the plays: Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou (played by the terrifically effective Sophie Okonedo). Henry VI dies before the third play, Richard III begins, but his absence allows one of the Duke of York’s sons, the eldest, Edward (Geoffrey Streatfield) to take the crown. The conflict across the plays is between Henry VI and the Duke of York for the crown, with a sub-conflict between the Duke of York and Duke of Somerset. When Margaret murders after torturing and humiliating the Duke of York) towards the end of Henry VI Part 2, his place is taken by his three sons, the other two being Clarence (Sam Troughton) and Richard of Gloucester who becomes Richard III in the course of that third play. This is part of Shakespeare’s over-arching 4 plasy but the clarity with which we can see it is not.

Further clear patterns emerge from the abridgment: We see over-arching story has smaller stories within it. In Henry VI Part 1 we have the action-adventure or war tragedy of the destruction in battle of warrior-hero, Talbot (Philip Glenister) and his son played against the tragedy (and it is played that way in this rendition) of the deluded or visionary (take your choice) Joan of Arc (Laura Frances-Morgan), who first wins for Philip of France, then captured, is imprisoned, tortured and burnt at the stake. That’s the first 3/4s of Henry VI Part One. The last quarter, deeply movingly we have the downfall of the noble, innocent Humphry of Gloucester brought partly about by the ambition and crazed delusions-madness of his wife, the Duchess Eleanor (Sally Hawkins) touchingly called by him Nell. Henry VI ends with Nell taken away in chains, and Gloucester’s hacked-to-death murder in the tower. In Shakespeare’s original the murder of Gloucester comes somewhere in Henry VI Part Two.

edwardwidowgrey
Keeley Hawes as the Widow Grey take with Geoffrey Streatfield as Edward, Duke of York, soon to be king

The new or compressed Henry VI Part 2 gives us the anguished romantic love of Margaret for the treacherous Somerset and his destruction in battle in the opening sequence; the quick romance of the proud widow Grey (Keely Hawes) more or less bullied by Edward into marriage near the end of the second third; and in the last Margaret taking the role of the helpless Henry VI as the lead of Henry VI’s forces against the sons of York, and her heartbreak when her son, Edward, is dismembered and killed before her very eyes by the York brothers. Shakespeare’s Richard III had the clearest original line: it is the story of how a tyrant personality takes power: inside though a smaller arc is the erotic bullying of Anne (wife of Edward) by Richard of Gloucester into a sadistic marriage in Richard III, and this is given more play by silent scenes of Anne, montages. We see Warwick change sides because Edward married beneath him, an Englishwoman, and did not let this uncle engineer an alliance with the French king’s daughter; we see the brothers’ rivalry played out, the downfall of Buckingham (captured fighting against Richard and instantly butchered).

The clarity of the patterns in the Henry VI plays especially are the product of the abridgment. They are not clearly laid out in Shakespeare’s plays, which include other stories: Jack Cade’s rebellion comes to mind. Richard III is linked in firmly to Henry VI by the use of flashbacks.

*******************************

joanofarcbattle
Laura Frances-Morgan as Joan of Arc calling for battle above ramparts

Some particulars I really admired and then I’ll have done. In this new Henry VI Part One I was especially moved by the performance of Bonneville as Humphrey; the build-up of his fatherly relationship with Henry VI, Sturridge’s ability to convey what seems a disabled personality, a weakness beyond the character being a good man who is non-violent, not manipulative, so pathetically out of his depths with these people, led by his adulterous corrupt wife, Margaret to listen to evil advisers. Power arranged the script so that Dame Eleanor’s playing around with magical effigies (putting pins in dolls looking like the king) became a salient accusation in the onslaught against him. Sally Hawkins does the distraught and disturbed personality as she did Anne Elliot in Persuasion. Miles as Somerset gave off a depth of memorable sensuality; Dunbar as the Plantangenet tenaciously re-directed again and again to want to take the throne. The death of the Talbot becomes another instance of how the ambitious destroy the good (he is not given enough funds for his army by either Somerset or York (we see Somerset being massaged refusing the money). Sophie Okenedo is extraordinarily mobile from one extreme emotion to another. Finally, the way Joan of Arc is played we pity her: she does not look to any gods but faces a mirror as she begs for her life — which is startling allowed by Shakespeare’s words.

I concede Henry VI Part Two is a little in danger of being mistaken for Full Metal Jacket at times. Maybe in Shakespeare’s original with the extra stories the space of the play would not be taken up by so much brutal violence. At the same time, what made the play work (each part can be seen as an individual playlet in the way BBC mini-series usually are) is how Shakespeare here is streamlined to give coherent shape and trajectory. Power and Cooke organized the 2 hours around battles. In the first hour or half of the unit we have a series of battles where first York and Somerset’s men are at one another until these two are beheaded, Somerset is casually crushed to death, then beheaded; York by contrast killed deliberately viciously. Then in the second hour a second series of brutal encounters where York’s sons, Edward and Richard, with Clarence at first having switched sides to Henry VI and Warwick, having returned to his brothers, fighting the forces nominally around Henry VI, actually Margaret (again Odenoko terrific), Warwick, and the few older men left loyal from Henry V, Exeter (Anton Lesser) for example. (This hanger-on from a previous reign reminded me of Bush senior’s most evil men, say Cheney, having a central place in Bush, the son’s administration and today still making phone calls on behalf of Trump to pressure congressional Republicans protesting against the the head of Exxon at the head of the state department).

kylesoller-large
Kyle Soller as Clifford

Between these two series of battles, or threaded through them are the sudden alliances, treacheries, confrontations which emblematically bring out themes. Shakespeare’s original plays and this abridgment too works by repetition and emblem: the excruciating deaths of father and son, the son dying in spite of the father’s protest, the father in effect betraying the son by having taught him to murder and seek hateful revenge. This begins in Henry VI Part 1 with the deaths of Talbot and his son together, and now in Part Two we have at least four such scenes, two close together. The one which carries across the play is that of Clifford (Kyle Soller, outstanding presence here) seeking violent revenge for his father’s death. This is Shakespeare’s anti-war allegory. War as a value destroys men who love one another; they behave in utterly counterproductive ways. The depiction of Henry V and VI does not fit this trajectory but across the Henry IV plays (1 and 2) Northumberlands treachery against Henry IV extends to manipulating his son, Hotspur, and then managing to keep from his son that Henry IV offers a truce, so that Hotspur is led to his senseless death. Hotspur might have chosen the course of action anyway as war as a way of life is what he was taught, but actual cause is a father’s betrayal and lies. The theme is developed at length and maturely in this later double play. One might say the relationship of Bolingboke as Henry IV with his recreant son, Hal (Tom Hiddleston) is a father-son comeuppance for Bolingbroke, and Hal’s choice of Henry IV as his father rather than Falstaff (treacherous and cowardly as he is, selfish, without any sense of responsibility or care for others) feels to be a tragic loss of companionship, a lesson in necessary betrayal.

One can regard as threaded in between the two sets of battles also when the Widow Grey is brought before Edward to ask that her property be returned to her son, before you know it Edward is wooing and offering to marry her when she refuses to be his whore while a delegation unknown to him is making up a French marriage, which delegation, including Warwick regards this conduct as betrayal, shameful and they move back to Henry VI’s side of the board. And so the battles begin again. Gradually too York’s youngest son, Richard emerges, Cumberbatch just electrifying as Okonedo as Margaret, steals the show each time he is on the screen. Henry VI Part 2 ends with a shot of Margaret in a dungeon in the tower, a chain around her neck, jerking madly at it, screaming I a queen, I am a queen.

cecilyduchessofyork
Judi Dench as the aged Duchess of York: the tragedies of this world imprinted on her face

I can’t do justice in the paragraph or so left to a few particulars of Richard III. I’ve known before through reading all the plays (yes I’ve read all of Shakespeare’s plays, and some of them a number of times, taught four: Richard II, Hamlet, Othello and The Winter’s Tale), and seen so many so many times that the great jump in ability, capacity, genius, Shakespeare makes is suddenly to throw into a full consciousness of a single man and make us stay there. He had not come near this before. It’s worth noticing fully that the consciousness he first chose was not a good man or highly intelligent thoughtful type, say Humphry of Gloucester (who is still only seen within for a couple of albeit long speeches, or Hamlet. No. A forerunner of Macbeth. It is the peculiar take in this one that all the lines that can be played up as showing deep psychological distress and disturbance and insane resentment and revenge (how hateful is revenge says Mozart in his opera play of Idomeneo) are drawn out, emphasized by the body Cumberbatch has had built around him. We can’t sympathize with this disabled unloved creature because he is so sneering, disdainful, cruel, lying in all his ways, but the lines are there. He feels a twisted remorse – or Cumberbatch makes us feel that fuelling his nonetheless attack-mode thoughts and actions. When he meets Judi Dench as his mother, the Duchess of York now grown old (Lucy Robinson plays the role in Henry VI Part 1) he does convey he is hurt she never loved him as she conveys that upon looking at his deformed body she was disgusted.

cumberbatch
Close-up of Cumberbatch as Richard

The action takes us through the steps by which this Richard rises to power, wins people over to him one by one (out of greed, sometimes fear) and then alienates them, one by one. Most of them he manages to murder, but not all. (Therein lies our hope, those of us who are making analogies with Trump’s rise today that not all are murdered and slowly a group emerges who find their vital interests so threatened they raise an army around Henry Tudor.) The father-son theme is brought back. At the end Stanley terrified that the son he had been forced to leave behind in order to do the right thing, flee Richard of Gloucester and enlist Richmond, Henry Tudor, this son is seen walking over the hill. A great moment of hope and joy as they hug.

cumberbatchaswarriorhero
Cumberbatch as the warrior Richard

At the end when the army which has gathered round Henry Tudor marching forth against the army Richard III can still amass, we have yet another of these ferocious brutal set-too between men hauling axes, clubs, broadswords, dirks (is that the term), and not far away others shooting dead arrows, the blood and guts and horror of the scene is obscured by rain and mud. It comes down to someone unseating Richard from his powerful horse (and we are made to feel how important being high up on a horse is) lands him in the mud. (In the Making of the Hollow Crown the filming of this part was discussed as very hard on the actors.) As they battle it out, and Henry Tudor wins, partly because Richard III is exhausted after his nights of harassment from ghosts and his own tormented mind, Henry Tudor downs him –- with help from Margaret who is suddenly there with a small mirror which shines a light blinding Richard’s eyes for the important few seconds. “My horse my horse a kingdom for a horse” is shouted coarsely and hoarsely, not as irony (Laurence Oliver’s take) but as a man in desperate need of a horse. Tudor comes from the back and hacks, and when the man lies prostrate, pushes a sword through his body, and blood squirts all over the mud and rain. The declaration is then: the tyrant is dead. Now we can all sleep in peace. (Well we here in the US and perhaps across the world can no longer sleep in peace. I’m sure I’m not the only one whose sleep has been ruined by hideously poisoned tweets.)

The film does not actually end on him, and there is a penultimate beautiful coronation ceremony where once again this iconic cleaned up hero is married to an iconic blonde, this time her grim mother (Keeley Hawes) standing to the side.
And then the final scene: the mad Margaret, impoverished, filthy, crazed, lookin down at the grave in which all the bodies are being thrown.

closingstills
Margaret among the hundreds of dead — final closing stills of Hollow Crown

I felt astonishing how dark Shakespeare is at the very outset of his career. This quartet made into a trilogy are his first known plays. People so rarely today (they used to in the later 19th century when biographical criticism of Shakespeare was common) talk of his relationship to his plays: but here he is at the beginning of his career emphasizing the tragedy of sensitive good people (he develops Hamlet out of that), and the attack on the ambitious, power-hungry as deeply untrustworthy (Caesar in Antony and Cleopatra say) stays throughout the career.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

talkingeatingonweddingnight
Jamie (Sam Heughan) and Claire (Caitrionia Balfe) drinking, eating, confiding on their wedding night (Outlander 7)

Friends and readers,

I carry on my comparison of Outlander with Poldark (see Outlander as a descendant of Waverley): as film art, as mini-series, made using the same kinds of cinematography (rich, mesmerizing, computer enhancement continual), dramaturgy (figures in a landscape not on a stage, montage, juxaposition), briefer dialogue, both seen as “women’s material,” albeit with plenty of male heroes and villains about, this dyptych again shows where the new Poldark is lacking (see scripts): the pair are symmetrically structured with the underlying paradigm for both a repetition of the same alluring exploration. As Emily Nussbaum puts it,

Outlander is, finally, as thoughtful about male vulnerability as it is about female desire, a rarity for television. It’s a quality that makes the show appealingly romantic in multiple senses (Emily Nussbaum, “Out of Time,” New Yorker, April 8, 2016)

When Dougal proposes that Claire marry Jamie, he says to Jamie and Claire separately that his purpose is both to secure Claire from the depredations of Black Jack Randall (yes played with fierce intensity by Tobias Menzies), and (as Murtargh [Duncan Lacroix] also suggested was needed, wanted) and to secure for Jamie an older mature woman.

himtoher

shetohim

It might startle some viewer that Jamie responds to Claire asking him if he will mind that she is not a virgin, no, as long as she doesn’t mind that he is (not that he’s never kissed a woman, “I said I was a virgin, not a monk”). But it fits the frequent reversals of roles in this series.

Garrison Commander when viewed as a whole is the second of two linked phases: in the first (from Jane’s memories in Rent or Outlander 5) we see Tobias capture, at first seem to negotiate with but then longingly flay Jamie, flog him until his back is permanently seared, scarred, somehow made shameful (like a slave’s); in the second, Garrison Commander, Claire lands in his hands for a few hours, and just as she thinks she has succeeded in winning him over to take her into an English situation where she can make her way back to Craig Na Dunn or where she wants to go, he kicks her hard in the stomach, threatens her humiliatingly and seems about to knife her mortally (as it is mortally dangerous for Jamie to come into the English lair).

The Wedding has three phases of love-making: the first just after the episode begins and the two, just married, come into their apartment together, almost as a duty:

duty

the second after a long period of conversation about themselves, only Jamie tells far more of his family, background, memories than Claire, this a deep coming together lovingly, tenderly:

talking

and then the third after Jamie tells her of his preparations for the wedding, where he takes over the woman’s role it seems — securing the priest and ring, getting the proper beautiful clothes which will endow them with great dignity, and finally the ceremony itself; and then third, hungrily, far more aggressively, letting go,

happy

after which they are hungry and morning has come. We are allowed to dwell on each phase feeling it with no interference as it were.

It is framed by another wedding: as the episode opens we see Claire walking a city, perhaps London streets, in modern outfit with Robin Hood hat, and Frank suddenly eagerly begging her to marry him now, at city hall, with no preparations. She protests she has not yet met his parents, to which he responds, well now you’ll meet them as Mrs Frank Randall.

frankandclaire

frankandclare

He is (like Jamie) while in the male position, yet abject and in need of her permission. This scene makes a striking contrast to the elaborate decorative ritual Jamie and Claire go through,

outside

inside

and lest we forget this, at end when morning comes and Jamie has left the room, Claire picks up the wedding dress, and out tumbles her wedding ring from Frank. In order to marry Jamie she had taken the ring off, and put it down the front of her corset, and now it falls to the floor almost going down a crack. But not quite. She kneels and picks it up and puts it on the ring finger of her right hand. This knits The Wedding back to the Garrison Commander for of course we know the same actor plays Black Jack as plays Frank.

clare

blackjack

There is nothing like this kind of consistent loving development in Horsfield’s Poldark. it’s partly the result again of taking a small and self-enclosed portion of a single novel (Chapters 12-15, “The Garrison Commander,” “A Marriage is Announced,” “A Marriage Takes Place,” “Revelations of the Bridal Chamber”); but it’s also this trusting to the material, not feeling that you have to supply something else, or qualify it.

Nussbaum suggests that what we watch in the first season is a “continual crumbling” of a bridge they build between them. I think that’s so, from when she “disobeys” him and he beats her, to when after the witch trial, she at long last tells him of who and what she is, where she comes from (the future), her other husband, and he generously takes her to the stone and leaves her to make up her mind. She does — for him, and again it’s his vulnerability risked, and her desire knitting them as one, her strength too as she says to him, “Get up, soldier” (making us recall her as as a battlefield nurse).

I just reveled in these two episodes. Yes because I loved the love-making (the first time watching I was embarrassed by the candour and directness of the scenes), but also because the way the development was placed against a background of serious disruption of any morality among the English and hedonistic vicarious joy among the Scots (though sometimes the episode again made me feel Claire had landed among a group of disciplined frat boys). In Garrison Commander there is an earnest British soldier who first sees Claire while she is with the Scotsman seeking rent, and thinks she may be their prisoner; he takes her for safety to the English fort, only to find she is now open prey and he can do nothing about it because of his lower rank. This holdover of emotion of a subaltern is matched by Dougal (Graham McTavish) in The Wedding, who clearly would cuckold Jamie, were Claire to be open to this; Jamie’s is as subject to Dougal and Colum as other of the British officers who would try to stop Randall, protect Claire but they can’t. Dougal is the linchpin of both episodes: following Claire into the English stronghold, pulling her out, engineering this wedding, to hold onto her. He has decided she is not a spy and wants her identity as useful to him and has a fierce authority over Jamie, his nephew it seems.

dougla

These patterns are not found in the chapters, rather they are filled with nuanced dialogue and thought between Claire and Jamie. In the novel for these chapters there are no memories of Frank. There is loss here: effective as the outward dialogue in the scenes of clash in Garrison, of argument at table, and of gentle and raucous comedy (the priest who must be dragged out of bed and then bribed to perform the ceremony, the trading of Biblical passages, Ned Gowan (Bill Patterson) among teasing prostitutes who are presences out of The Beggar’s Opera), I found the long give-and-take conversations in Gabaldon’s novel much more moving. The movie can risk only suggestive fragments of Jamie’s childhood, boyhood, who was this relative and who that. This is a building up of a picture of him as having pride as Laird.

The next episode, Both Sides Now (Outlander 8) will be a continual movement back and forth from 1943 and the desperate Frank at the police office, with the Reverend Wakefield, told by Mrs Graham that some supernatural neolithic charm has taken Claire off to another time, with Claire and Jamie traveling or wandering themselves as semi-outcasts through the highland’s landscape. They encounter a beggar, Hugh Munro in the novel, now called Willie (Finn Den Hertog) whom Jamie welcomes warmly, and has himself been made permanently mute (his tongue cut out), his feet ruined, during a captivity among the Turks, in Algiers, as a galley slave. Now he wanders through the world.

beggar

He is a parallel to Frank.

frankbystones

And this new trio comes near danger.

thetwo

Again this is a lingering juxtaposition not in the book. But this is for another blog.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

digginguppiers-medium
Kenneth Branagh and Colin Firth — as characters digging the deep past up in the form of a coffin of a Muslim who once painted a mural on a 14th century church wall (A Month in the Country)

Dear friends and readers,

While the fall term has hardly begun, today was time to put in a proposal for next spring for the OLLI (Oscher Institute of Life-Long Learning) at George Mason. I enjoy enormously Booker Prize books, winners, short-listed, nominated. I love most of the film adaptations, which also win prizes.

englishpatientbdcap1_original
Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche as the English patient and wandering nurse (screenplay Anthony Minghella)

At the same time I am aware only a certain kind of book wins: you’ll find no John LeCarre’s there. And it’s not just books which can be fitted into formula genres that are excluded, non self-reflexive historical fictions are out. Nor is it that mawkish uplift, and the kind of woman’s novel that garners an Orange prize; anything profoundly reactionary. So casting about for some kind of framework whereby term after term I could slot in books and explore books of our time as well as the publishing industry, I came up with this:

The Booker Prize: a marketplace niche & selling tool?

In this course we will discuss 4 gems of Booker Prize fiction. Some have said the prize functions as a brilliantly exploited marketplace tool aimed at a specific readership niche, just perfect for high quality film adaptations and literary criticism. The books are characteristically historical fiction, self-reflexive, witty and passionate, post-colonialist, and the three of the texts I’ve chosen have been made into great films. I ask that before class begins everyone have read J. L. Carr’s A Month in the Country; in class we’ll read Rose Tremain’s Restoration, Ondaatje’s The English Patient, and Graham Swift’s Last Orders.

I originally had Paul Scott’s Staying On in lieu of Restoration, but it is such a painful story of retired people now vulnerable to subalterns and the readers I read with are older retired people, so I worried. I ruled out Carol Shields’s Unless on similar grounds: perhaps they had a grown child who succumbed to such a syndrome. None of the Raj Quartet has won — the prize usually eschews sequel kind of books. A course just on Paul Scott is possible.

staying-on-trevor-howard-celia-johnson
Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard in Staying On carry over the typologies of Brief Encounter

[NB: later on I discussed it with other people in classes and with the organizers and I may well substitute Staying On for The English Patient (after all an exotice romance) and Unless for Restoration (not commonly known history though the topic of mental illness during and after a war is central). They are shorter, easier reads and that they come home to people might make for a much richer class.]

I loved Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Bookshop, but perhaps that makes the list insularly English. We can discuss it in claas; it is so slender — a characteristic of some Booker Prize books (they gave a prize to a long short story by V.S. Naipaul once). Byatt’s Possession (very precious), Atwood’s Alias Grace (complicated structure and POV too), and Mantel’s Wolf Hall were all too long to do other books with; Adhalf Soueif’s Map of Love long and too Eygptian: I can see doing that with her In the Eye of the Sun, but hesitate before a heavily Jewish population. I like the idea of pairing Alias Grace with the real woman behind the novel: Susannah Moodie and her Roughing It in the Bush. And in future terms I can see myself doing Ishiguru’s Remains of the Day — how I wept over that film with Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson at the close, just missed out on what would have made their lives good, just.

menincar
The four frenemies carrying Jack’s ashes (in a box) to the jetty in “style” — a fancy car

bythesea
Reconciliation by the sea (Last Orders) — my students loved the film

None of my choices are darkly despairing. There are fascinating films for all four. I hardly remember Tremain’s book except liking it intensely (and have never seen the film).

As a side-note: I noticed something typically about women’s books who win the prize: typically women winning the Booker either write very long complicated books — with a George Eliot impressiveness — and if I chose one I’d hardly have time for another. One or even two swallows do not a summer make for my thesis about Booker prize books. Or they write odd and/or very slender ones. It’s “as if” they have to strike an impression more than the men.

charitywakefieldmaryboleyn
Charity Wakefield as Mary Boleyn (one of a continuum of heroines in Wolf Hall)

This is a new venture like my 19th Century Women of Letters which I hope to develop over a few terms — well within my taste, each time expanding my knowledge this or that way without asking too much, leaving time for scholarly reviews, essays, papers.

These books, indeed this sub-species, will be great fun to write blogs about here too.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 13/09/2016 - Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: episode 3 (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: Geoffrey Charles and Francis.  Geoffrey Charles, Francis (KYLE SOLLER) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Adrian Rogers
Kyle Soller as Francis Poldark returned from Bodmin, with his son, Geoffrey Charles

[Note: this blog assumes the reader has read all twelve of Graham’s novels, viewed the 1970s mini-series, and is interested in the content and art of the books and this older and the new 2015-16 mini-series]

Ross: “Have I told you what I feel about a disobedient wife?”
Demelza: “Have I told you what I feel about a reckless husband?” (Horsfield, end of new episode 10)

Dear friends and readers,

I had been holding off on writing about the second season of Poldark while watching the first two episodes of the BBC Broadcast on a BBC iplayer, but have given up trying to cover both airings. This week PBS put off for another week their first double-hour program. I have been told that the PBS production will eliminate 8 minutes of and blend (mash is the term) together the first two 60 minute hours of the BBC productions. And since by the third episode of this season, something genuinely interesting and worthwhile is beginning to emerge, I wanted to record it. For all I know it won’t be apparent in the PBS version for quite some time.

The second season, building on the first, is developing a different emotional temperature, a different mood for the story and characters of Horsfield. In a phrase, I’d call the mood an intersection between Thomas Hardy and Mary Webb (as interpreted by their wider readership and in the Hardy and one Webb film adaptations that have been made), contemporary edginess (it’s called), and a contained version of smoldering Lawrence (seen recently at its best in Joe Wright’s films). Quite a number of blogs by now and some comments on two of mine (“disconcerting news,” the “Horsfield scripts”) have been saying that the events to come are going to crucially change the characters and meaning of the series from that of the original books as well as the 1970s films (which except for the opening and closing episodes of the first season mostly stayed with Graham), but while I can see how these changes have been prepared for from the beginning of the first season (especially in the characters of Kyle Soller as Francis and Heidi Reed as Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark and Jack Farthing George Warleggan), thus far the hinge-points of the book have been held to.

What’s been strikingly altered is the presentation of story and characters: I don’t mean the substitution of a stage for a pictorial presentation. That goes without saying for most films since the mid-1990s (not all, Wolf Hall and surprisingly some The Hollow Crown dared to return to theatrical-like direction), but the order of the events and dialogue content (so, e.g., in Graham’s book and the 1970s films Demelza tries to win Judge Lister over by discussing high cultural music and now Eleanor Tomlinson introduces however opaquely the issue of perjury). We have seen George Warleggan made into a personally injured villain (in the book and in the 1970s he is more simply a ruthless capitalist) and presented as persistently trying to corrupt Aidan Tuner as the fiercely fair-dealing, sincere and egalitarian Poldark to become his follower; more worrying (for those who are attached to the older conception of Ross and Demelza as founding their very identities in their relationship with one another) are the jarring sudden hostilities in apparently unprepared-for or unexplained scenes in Episode 3 between Demelza and Ross. She accuses him of coldness, withdrawal, indifference to her, and he ignores her at first. I say apparently because in reading the complete scripts for the first season I discovered that many brief character-rich scenes and suggestive dialogues were cut, creating just the same effect in the film realization as we see in the second season.

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 13/09/2016 - Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: episode 3 (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: Demelza.  Demelza ((ELEANOR TOMLINSON) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Adrian Rogers
Not only has Demelza’s hair been smoothed out and made far thicker, her outfits given somber soft blues and greens, but Tomlinson is directed to look out at the world with a narrow eye when she is seen standing alone

The second and third episodes of this season were much better than the first which attempted (as was done in some of the episodes of the first season) to pile too much in, use continual rapid juxtapositions of too many story-lines at once. Here my comparing this Poldark with the precisely contemporary mini-series Outlander was useful: Gabaldon’s series is historical romance: while the films try to frame the story as a post-colonial critique of the British oppressions of the Scots, there is little exact history, and only a generalized version of crucial customs dramatized (such as the role of rents in controlling members of a clan). Graham’s books (and the 1970s films kept this up) genuinely attempts to convey specifics about the poaching and game laws, prison conditions, mining, banking, the customs of scavenging (and later smuggling, and county politics) and what Horsfield is trying to do is get some of this in. She has to struggle more than the 1970s films because she is so determined to personalize through George Warleggan, add scenes projecting a group identity to which all right-minded people will want to belong.

75poldarkrobinellisasrossbitter
Robin Ellis as a bitter Ross (the older episode 9)

I cannot deny that I continue to love the 1970s mini-series: I have been re-watching them in tandem and they stand up beautifully. For those interested, you can click on links next to the new series and read about the older comparable episodes.

****************************

Episode 1 (or 9): for comparison, commentary on the 1975 Episode 9 and Graham’s book.

poldarksecondseason
Aidan Turner as Ross in the first episode of this second season (he is rightly made thinner by episode 3 as in Jeremy Poldark he and Demelza and their household have not enough to eat; throughout all 3 episodes he needs a shave) at a moment of intense guarded suspicion

The structuring and explicitness of the episode make it quite different from the equivalent episode in the 1970s and Graham’s book. Horsfield has re-conceived of the prologue to the trial (so to speak) as a group of parallel stories running alongside one another, each of which is ratcheted up into a row of climaxes against one another.

In the book and in the 1975 film the story moves naturally forward, with different characters taking part as the chronology (or so it feels) calls for it. In the 1970s 50 minute hour each scene is allowed to develop on its own: so it opens say with the menacing threat-determination of Tankard and his men to bribe Jud into giving evidence against Ross. We then move to Demelza’s visit to Penvennen. There is no paralleling. Nor is there this explicitness. When in this 2016 episode Demelza heads off to see Penvennen it is made explicit she is going there to try to influence the man.

Four stories are ratcheted up and paralleled and contrasted: Ross’s with Demelza, Francis’s with (as it were) the bad devil on one side tormenting him), George, and the good person, on the other, Elizabeth, equally tormenting him. Francis is slowly despairing, and we see the steps he takes as he sees what is happening, finds himself unable to do anything useful, and driven wild with the life he feels has been imposed on him, attempts to get rid of it as a burden he cannot endure. There is Dwight Enys’s preparation for his testimony, his talk with Ross, his worries at what will ensue, his riding along and then the call to take care of her dog, by the new rich young heiress character, Caroline Penvennen: Gabriella Wilde, for most of the three episodes presently every bit as hostilely as the promiscuous “slut” Keren: she is ostentatiously supercilious and disdainful:

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 13/09/2016 - Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: episode 3 (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: Caroline Penvehen.  Caroline Penvenen (GABRIELLA WILDE) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Jon Hall
The choice of red, the hats, the way she holds her body and head makes her stand out as not part of this group identity

George at the beginning and again at the end of the episode wants Ross to ask for help and to offer to be a kind of partner (none of these exchanges between Ross and George occur in Grahm’s books or the earlier mini-series); upon being refused the first time he makes up these ugly pamphlets and spreads them. (This is what I’ve seen happen in films that mean to be popular: you have to account specifically and personally for something happening. In the book and first film George’s hatred is more generalized, and he is not so focused on Ross. We see him prevent Demelza from getting into the assembly by implying she’s a prostitute based on her obvious lower class status.

poldark-series-two-eleanor
Promotional shot of Eleanor Tomlinson for season 2

I was to Bodmin jail two weeks ago and can confirm that Ross’s entry into that tunnel hall is inside Bodmin jail, but again it’s odd how artifical the direction makes the settings feels. Why must so many of the characters be on cliffs at the height of emotion – it’s not persuasive that Ross and Demelza, Francis and Elizabeth should have out their intimate conflicts against pretty blues skies and cliffs. The photography sometimes made the hour seem unreal again. I don’t say everything: George is seen inside his house, Dwight and Ross, Pascoe and Ross, and later Clymer and Ross, Elizabeth and the aunt, Francis and Verity are all face-to-face head on encounters inside. But the parallels are overdone. Francis is writing while Ross is writing, and back and forth the camera goes to Elizabeth’s face, then Demelza’s. It’s an overdone, over anxious (lest we be bored) episode.

Among other unrealities of this first episode is this unreal focus on Ross: all the characters are made to have Ross on their minds almost all the time (except Caroline, absurdly over her dog and indifferent say to the people who are to elect her fiance, Unwin Trevaunance). That Ross explicitly refuses to help himself, insults and insists, and says what he knows will put him in jail is a way of ratcheting up the action, making it more suspenseful since obviously such behavior (we think, with his lawyer, Jeffrey Clymer [William Mannering] will surely lead to him being hanged. In Graham’s book and 1970s film Robin Ellis as Ross will not lie or act without integrity but by no means does he do all he can to ruin his case. The book and 1970s’s character’s first statement is unacceptable, but he does not defend it strongly in the counterproductive manner Aidan is directed to do. Filling the hour up this way, with this back and forth movement, has a stasis effect. They are all acting it very well but it’s so artificial, like puppets on display.

The only character I was able to come close to was Francis Poldark: he is prepared for very well; each of the scenes is designed to show us his aching self-hatred and despair; the scene with Verity is not as sharp as the one between Norma Streader and Clive Francis in the 1970s simply because it is not given enough time for his bitterness and her concern for him to be voiced, but that final moment before the letter, his cocking his pistol and thinking are pitch perfect in Graham and in both series. Perhaps Horsfield overdid it by making us believe the pistol went off; in the 1970s we “merely” see Clive Francis put the gun in his mouth.

*******************************

Episode 2 or 10 (this does follow the matter of the second quarter of Jeremy Poldark up until the moment of non-conviction; for comparison, see outline and quotations from 1975 Poldark Episode 10)

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 30/08/2016 - Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: Generic (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: Verity **EMBARGOED UNTIL TUESDAY 30TH AUGUST** Verity (RUBY BENTALL) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Ellis Parrinder
Ruby Bentall as the satisfied matron of the second season (her hair has been smoothed out too) – as in the book and the 1970s films she shares a room in the Bodmin hotel with Demelza (promotional shot)

The dramaturgy of this episode is much better than the first: the action is allowed to flow forward naturally. This is an good effective episode. While there is juxtaposition, the central story of Ross’s coming trial and the swirl of events around it is kept to. I’ll follow the trajectory as it is possible to do this: We hear alluring minor music and watch a blurred flashback of Ross and Demelza happy on the beach together: this a parallel of the opening of the series where we saw Heidi Reed as a young Elizabeth on the beach with a young Ross, also soft focus. Switch to Turner’s face in the darkness with a candle by his side: he is remembering back. Now a side shot of him at the desk; slow moving, very well done. We see the corridor, hear the keys as the door is opened, Clymer comes in, the long list of people prepared to testify against Ross, including Jud (his potential testimony a “nail in the coffin”).

Camera on the streets, as yet peaceful, but we see how these wandering tough hard men with their torches could easil be turned into an actively violent mob. Demelza walks among them in the streets, determined to get into the assembly this time and talk with, persuade people who could help Ross. Now she slips in and meets with the kindley Penvenen (Caroline’s uncle is given her name in this iteration) and a superficial tactless Caroline: oh your husband is on trial, what did he do? Penvenen warns her she can only make things worse (as she is warned in the book and in the 1970s), but searching about, she spots Judge Lister, and makes for him. Caroline offers to go out with Unwin to the balcony; says she enjoys a baying mob.

Elizabeth pacing in a darkened Trenwith; reproaches Agatha for ever predicting the worst outcome; the old woman defends herself saying she is playing “snap” to entertain herself, “go to Bodmin, Elizabeth” she urges then, and Elizabeth is off to the coach.

Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: episode 1 (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: Aunt Agatha.  Aunt Agatha (CAROLINE BLAKISTON) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Adrian Rogers
Caroline Blakiston as Aunt Agatha, nonetheless brooding over her win

Back in Bodmin, a crowded tavern, Jud seen morose with drink, all listening to talk of the election (as unjust, as a joke, as giving the ordinary person nothing), Luke Norris as Dwight is POV and he overhears talk about hunger, France, the revolution, ideas coming over to England, this world a power keg, Dwight speaks to Jud, surely all of us are for Ross

It is here that the group identity comes to the fore, presented complexly but as what people live in as in some soup. Thus the juxtapositions have some depth of apprehension, some larger context.

First juxtaposition from lawyer and Ross in jail to assembly. Clymer says Ross’s defense is proving difficult; and he takes out the will Ross had made. He has left all he can to Demelza. At assembly Penvenen is telling her “influence, I don’t have that sort. Tomlinson very good here: quietly, “I’m a little despairing;” as Lister is pointed out: he’s “somewhat severe.” “Does he like his port? “Resolutely sober. Ross telling the lawyer to “bequeath Wheal Grace and my other debts and liabilities; I really have left her nothing.” He is despairing too. She approaches Lister and it seems to go well. A nasty exchange of Caroline with Dwight: she is bored, not entertained; Dwight tells her he’s thankful not she’s not his business. In the elction names called are now tied in second place and Warleggan says to Trevaunance “Get up on chair and claim it: men irritated by Trevaunance begin to throw eggs and rocks. “Get me back inside. In the prison the man who is going to die for simply being aggressive at the election pushed into jail. “I’m a free man, [with] a right to speak.” He is punched in face, thrown down, jail shut, Ross watches. It seems he has no such right.

Warleggan to Penvenen: “See he’s established.” “Almost at expense of his life” inbetween Caroline’s supercilious remarks to Dwight who holds his own: “You’re mistaken madame, I neither solicit nor despise … Caroline sees people as rable. Penvenen glimpses Demelza talking to Lister, “oh my god you will hang your husband,” and now George is on the alert, goes over, interrupts her awkwardness, says who she is and judge becomes indignant; on the way out with Lister, George thinks he’s clinched it against “those who stir up disorder” (It is George who made the guy get on a chair, and he is indirectly responsible for the hanging of the man in the cell next to Ross’s). George does count his chickens before they hatch.

The great scene between Dwight and Francis: opening the door and there is Francis. Horsfield omits the plangent language and sorrow Clive Francis manifested but the scene is still effective.

Back to lawyer and Ross, are you going to die on a point of principle? There is a parallel with Francis who hates himself on a point of principle. Asks Enys the question in the book, “Are you a fatalist? or do you believe we are masters of our own destiny (again the 1970s sticks closer to Graham’s words, masters of the dance). Horsfield’s Francis: “Well the thing’s not done so for the moment you have a talkative companion instead of a silent one.” There is something artificial and arch in the 1970s version; this feels realer, truer, quieter.

Demelza accosts Warleggan: “Why do you hate him?”; and they clash over class status: “You will always be a miner’s daughter” while he is now a gentleman; she is a gentleman’s wife …

Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: episode 2 (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: George Warleggan.  George Warleggan (JACK FARTHING) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Adrian Rogers
A promotional shot of Jack Farthing as the proud seething Warleggan of the second season

In the prison: lawyer to Ross: case against you is too strong, not a question of whether you’ll be found guilty but whether and what that sentence will be …perhahps you will reconsider before you sleep tonight …

Demelza now in the room with Verity: “if anything I made it worse Verity I lost my child how can I bear it if I lost Ross, too.” (She is seen in all three episodes going to the empty bed.” Camera on Ross considering in the prison. Effective juxtaposition

Elizabeth on her way in the coach, switch to Francis fixing the gun. Quicker now: Jud watched by Tankard, accosted by Prudie. Tankard reassuring Warleggan: he has augmented the crowd by people paid to share our views; George boasts he has convinced his Lordshiop without a penny changing hands

Dialogue of Ross and fellow prisoner: I wish you justice ..

Then the voice of the remorseless judge: as ringleader and instigator; for what happened that night – you will be hangd by neck until you die. Demelza, behind her Verity looking on. Ross coming out of jail. Horsfield is determined to make us disbelieve that Ross can get off so she adds Demelza’s father coming in to accuse Ross of lack of respect for law, custom, other men: “this man did think himself about the low. The whole long scene of trial very well done. so many against him, but if jury believes him. Camera on Francis, Dwight, Elizabeth … Turner does look handsome.

Prosecution: all the people lying (not in book), the paid witnesses – the audience is on Ross’s side, calling the witnesses liar, that’s a lie. One man says he saw Ross assault a customs officer, “aye sir assault’s a terrible thing sir.” Close up of all faces, POV Demelza, she goes outside cannot breath and now we learn she is pregnant when Elizabeth comes to her and senses it: “I never thanked you for nursing me … at such a cost how can you bear it .. I’m with child again.” Then Jud’s great moment: not as highly theatrical as 1970s; but in this version he says Ross didn’t help (when he did), claims Ross said “there’s women and children aboard who need saving from watery grave.” He did not say this, not in the book which is careful to keep to or skirt the truth. Now George turns bitter at Tankard.

Then Captain bray’s fair testimony – flashbacks to give concrete experience (not in previous episodes of 1st season); it was like a Dante’s inferno. Ross asks him, what did I do: “You came and offered me shelter.” Lawyer catches Bray on the issue of not knowing what Ross did afterward. We see Francis watching Ross

poldarkparallelcousins

Prosecutor far more explicit about RP as revolutionary, chief perpetrator – repeats strong testimony Ross gave at indictment; “I did not consider it a riot, do you approve of food to keep them alive … did you have anything to do with Sanson’s death …regrettably nothing whatsoever/.

Dwight Enys is made chief witness for defense mental breakdown; he alone speaks for him in this version. He insists on his degree, his knowledge, and on the strangeness of Ross’s actions. A strong response on the court, and judge orders people for Poldark removed.

Tankard and George talking: the mane cannot bear for Ross to have anything, even a worthless mine left to his wife. Francis and Elizabeth meet: Francis feels she came for Ross; very awkward, stressed conversation. “Ross will be gratified” [to see her]. She: “Are you?”

Lawyer urges him; “you must grovel – do so now or you will not live to see the sun rise tomorrow. He starts but he cannot go on; it’s George’s scornful face he cannot bear. He is eloquent and says values all agree with on scavanging, starving, who should get flotsam and jetsam on beach and why. Judge unmoved and informs jury if they think Ross not guilty of three counts, if he participated he is still guilty. But they go out and back quickly and it’s not guilty. In this film this seems astounding; but it the book it’s prepared for by telling us of custom (juries loathe to convict) and in the 1970s trial not so stacked against Ross, Ellis as Ross not so angry, more witnesses for him. Francis cannot accept Verity’s husband he says: people do not change. Ross, Dwight (or is it Henshawe) on the horses, the workers on the beach waiting.

Francis and Elizabeth home to Agatha, and there is a getting along suddenly, a light in Soller’s eyes, and Demelza and Ross in their house. She says this is all I want, this private life together (true to book here) and a child in the crib, but he demurs.

*************************

Episode 3 (or 11): Book 2, opening of Jeremy Poldark (for comparison see outline and quotations from 1975 Poldark Episode 11).

WARNING: Embargoed for publication until 00:00:01 on 13/09/2016 - Programme Name: Poldark - TX: n/a - Episode: episode 3 (No. n/a) - Picture Shows: Captain McNeil.  Captain McNeil (HENRY GARRETT) - (C) BBC - Photographer: Jon Hall
Henry Garrett as Captain MacNeil — his complacent normalized self provides a coda of prosaic pro-life emotion distinct from the surrounding intensities

This is equally good as Episode 2 (10) and for the same reasons: the story is allowed to flow naturally; the actors given room and time to develop a scene; it stays yet closer to the events Graham whose book is very good, but it is here that the mood becomes drenched in a sense of the west country culture as providing meaning and purpose and community and that is what gives satisfaction.

Ross, now thin, leading horse with hay, longing look at two mines. We move into the Warleggan palatial house, inside George practicing boxing with Tankard looking on. Ross studying Wheal Grace maps –- back to unnecessary threats of Jud, Pascoe’s voice, saying loan shortly due. Now we get this inexplicable jarring outbursts: Demelza: “She’s scarcely seen him?, he “Would you have me neglect …” This is true to the book only Demelza is not angry over it. Ross: “We’ll talk soon I promise. Dwight chopping wood (has Horsfield been watching any Andrew Davies’s films lately?), Caroline passes, Demelza on the beach …

Meeting of Wheal Leisure group, what’s left of it, a woman shareholder sold to Coke, Tankard comes in as representing Coke. They know he’s a Warleggan mole. Juxtapose to Francis and Elizabeth declining invitation to Penvenen luxury county party where Warleggan will be and then (truly good feeling conveyed by Killer), Francis’s delight in son in taking him to fields. Better than chasing money and prestige and whatever else is admired. Demelza still on the beach, picking things up, MacNeil watching

The Wheal Leisure meeting ends. Henshawe they are going in direction of Trevorgie (from Wheal Grace) to see what they can find: All but Tankard and one wary man carry motion. MacNeil gains romantic entry to Demelza’s house –- he is there serving Trevaunance; brings a request for Demelza from Brodrugan about the cow, now Ross interrupts and he offers sudden jarring suspicions: Why the sudden sarcasm about Demelza liking Bodrugan? it comes from nowhere. It is prepared for in the book and is unmerited. We see
women washing at pond, the carriage with Caroline –- she is attracted to Enys as he moves about the village

Really very appealing moments of Francis and son in fields, POV Elizabeth to Agatha. Francis after having escaped death valuing life in a way that is consonant with his personality. Not asking of himself what he does not want, cannot do, does not care about.

Warleggan reading a letter; Tankard come to tell of meeting; we get another exaggerated dialogue (not credible) juxtaposed to Jud’s boasting.

Demelza angry at Ross’s suspicions: “Did you mislay manners, leaving me alone to deal with guest?” Ross says he not there for cow. She: “You give me cold shoulder and despise everything not at your high and mighty standard –- this is a jump without intermediary feeling. Perhaps it was there in the script, but not in this realization. Prudie: “What you saying to upset maid?

Demelza meets Elizabeth in wood; she is looks for Garrick, Ross hasn’t the heart for another child and she’s not told him, Elizabeth: “We’re to blame, discord not lightly set aside by Ross at least

Jud fleeing Warleggan’s men

Demelza in bed at night; Ross intently working hard at mine; back to Demelza in bed; Ross home to breakfast and then out to Truro. He comes home and she is staring at empty crib bed. He wants to talk, she looks encouraged but then it is money; he is working to find a new lead but the pressing concern is the debt. They must sell much that they have to make 400 pounds – ride to Truro, see if loan extended; the more he works better their chances, he tells her, “see what you can bear to part with and then look again.” She visits Brodrugan and cow with MacNeil looking on. Pascoe has secured his loan to be extended – 400 tomorrow – Demelza selling Emma their cow, Brodrugan gets aggressive (harassing her) and MacNeil interrupts to protect her. She is grateful.

Then we see Ross and Demelza walking, talking about what they can sell. They joke about Garrick and then we see them taking money for selling Emma, on the farm, pigs cock furniture. Caroline going to market too. Wareleggan smoldering at them. Dwight and Caroline encounters end in his curing her “hurt throat.” We see Ross and Demelza selling off their precious objects and a bitter encounter with Warleggan. They pay an amazed Pascoe: Ross: “we sold pretty much everything we own.”

Francis with child, real horse better, no more Uncle George, Uncle Ross in time will be our friend – these moments of hope and joy projected by this actor. They are part of the new emotional temperature of the series. (Not found in book or 1975 films.)

Mrs Tabb prefers Dr Enys to Dr Choake; and tells him Francis in better spirits these days; Elizabeth: “Hhe’s changed, did he intend to kill himself? Enys: “Whatever occurred, be glad of it, a broken man returned like that, and now playing with son.

heidireed2ndseason
Promotional shot of Heidi Reed as Elizabeth for the second season

Jud set upon very hard. Dwight agrees to carry invitation to harvest supper to Ross and Demelza. A modest meal, Francis: “Admiring our harvest, I hope to augment it; later that night Ross and Demelza discuss invitation that Dwight brought: he will not go, George is a still friend there. Demelza: “she is not sure, but she is not in haste to go to Trenwith” either.

Prudie with apparent death of Jud, impossible idealization of Prudie – the guineas – Martin thinks it’s from the trade … Ross knew him since he was a child, useless but he taught me. This material was comic in the 1970s but it is not comic now. Just puzzling. Ross: “George has played us all – perhaps we should accept invitation and maybe some things can be mended.” He wants to “connect to Francis again.”

Happy harvest scene — Soller has sweetest of smiles – cousin tis an unexpected pleasure – all shaking hands. Harvest ritual in the fields, hurrah hurrah hurrah – wonderful dancing. (None of this in book or 1975 film.)

Warleggan to Tankard: “I ordered you to scare not murder. Idiot Unwin at party with Caroline intensely frustrated.

Francis with Ross and Dwight: Francis says he now knows George a complee utter blaggard, Dwight called away at Killwarren. Tremendously elegant luxurious meal at Penvennen. “Last night a murder” we hear MacNeil saying.

The funeral meal – so three levels of characters — Prudie’s ludicrous speech – the slab empty. Demelza outside escaping nasty mother of Elizabeth: Prudie thinks it body snatchers

Dwight’s scene pulling fishbone from Caroline’s throat; at luxury party Warleggan exerts pressure on the Wheal Leisure man who sided with Tankard and he faints.

Francis offers to go in with Ross – “hole in the ground,” he has money, few hundred, and they propose to try final attempt

Fish bone out. Francis must go to bed, Dwight comes in – thank you Cousin. Prudie the shame of it – Jud without explanation. George is exulting over his successful bullying. Jud now appears as a ghost, and tells how it was It’s there as a left-over of condescending humor to the “lower orders” (on Graham’s part first.

Elizabeth with Ross left downstairs, he looks to help her, she thanks him. Demelza walking back from Prudie will overhear. She: “The money came from George to pay for false gaming loss.” Ross: “I remember a time you were perfect – today in the fields you looked like a girl of 16 your age when I first knew you.” He is half flirting, “Cannot love overcome such obstacles. She: “I cannot imagine how” Ross says she “has brought light back into Frances eyes,” but we know that’s not the source of Francis’s gladness. She tells him you should go to bed Ross, Demelza will be thinking you’re gone astray … he looks down disappointed rueful. This is a justified extrapolation from a scene in the book not filmed before.

This too: Demelza gone to bed crying, she in bed awake when he comes in. She tells of Jud’s alive, and blurts out, “First Christmas you told me you loved me.” He: “First days of love different then.” This reminded me of Joyce’s The Dead: the story’s ending in crying and hurt. Ross picks up she’s pregnant; he says it is different a child is not a thought and if she can risk he heart again, so can he …

********************

makinglovethenightbeforethetrial
Robin Ellis and Anghared Rees as Ross and Demelza making love the night before he must leave for Bodmin and the trial (1975 Poldark Episode 9)

To conclude, I’ve loved the books and still do, have taught Ross Poldark several times, Demelza twice, and Jeremy Poldark and Warleggan once. If Horsfield wants to soften the progressive politics of the books and 1970s films, eliminate the feminism, but not lose the inner life of the books which are so pro-egalitarian, decent in humanity, it seems to me to turn to a Hardyesque atmosphere is a good option. As yet there is no hint in these episodes that the series will take the crucial changes that people have been discussing elsewhere. Time (or next week on the BBC) will tell. I’ve commented enough on how much I valued the original emotional relationships and themes of the books and when they were kept to in the 1970s films.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

medicine2
Claire (Catrionia Balfe) medicates Jamie’s (Sam Heughan) back (near opening of Episode 2, directed Ronald Dahl, scripted Ronald D Moore)

geillisduncan3
Claire remembering Geillis Duncan (Lotte Verbeeck) saying: “As I told you, there’s many things in this world we can’t explain …” (near end of Episode 3, directed Brian Kelley, scripted Anne Kenney)

We get no good
By being ungenerous, even to a [film],
And calculating profits — so much help
By so much reading. It is rather when
We gloriously forget ourselves, and plunge
Soul-forward, headlong, into a [film]’s profound,
Impassioned for its beauty and salt of truth-
Tis then we get the right good from a book.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh
(1857), i, 702-9

Dear friends and readers,

The general plot-design of these two episodes is quickly told (see Episode 1):

leoghakindofudolopho2
As the group comes up to Leogh, it looms in the way of Udolpho:

2) exploring Castle Leogh and its grounds, Claire settles in, is re-dressed, meets Laird Colum Mackenzie (Gary Lewis), dines with the clan, is led to believe she will be allowed to return to Craig Na Dunn (the stones), but finds herself appropriated as a “healer” and forbidden to leave, as no one important believes her story of herself. Slowly her relationship with Jamie builds, meeting to help his wounds, bringing food to him outside the gate; he tells of of Black Jack Randall, an English enemy (Tobias Menzies), and the doubling figure of Claire’s gentle Frank with this violent Black Jack makes Jamie an intermediary link

biddingadieu
As the episode opens, we are back in time, five years before 1945, where Claire is bidding adieu to Frank her husband as she refuses to accept an offer of escaping front-line nursing

3) Claire becomes involved with a woman like herself, expert in the use of medicinal compounds, foods, healing, Geillis Duncan, and witnesses a culture of harsh punishments and mortifications, defies the fanatically punitively religious priest, to save the life of a boy said to be in need of exorcism. Again her relationship with Jamie builds, now she sees him rescue Leoghaire (Nell Hudson) from punishment, free a boy nailed to a pillory by his ear, take her to the Black Kirk to reveal the poisoned herb afflicting the boy.

The second episode feels more complicated than the first, building on it: we see Claire is in danger of being seen as a witch (by her apprehension of Mrs Fitz’s (Annette Badland) probable response to her story; the blending of time frame-times, from what Frank is doing now to to try find Claire, by himself by the rocks, with the Reverend Wakefield (James Fleet), to deeper past memory and again Claire at end of episode 3 with a vision of the stones, but the more she does deeds to gain gratitude, the more she is held fast.

seekingclues

**********************************

I’ve been trying to account for the deep appeal of this mini-series (at least to me and the legions of readers and viewers, mostly women) beyond the sex: I am intensely drawn to the sexual relationship between the heroine, Claire, and the central beloved hero, Jamie; its configuration is the same as Suzanne Juhasz says is central to women’s romance (Reading from the Heart) and is found in the relationship of Demelza and Ross in the Poldark books. (I gather for some modern young women brought up recently or women of the later 20th century this no longer appeals.) In the films, protective, gentle, tenderly loving, a helper-brother, in Demelza’s case a father substitute, in Claire’s an oddly feminized hero. But what else?

I am trying to see how it differs from Poldark beyond the genre (women’s historical romance v men’s historical fiction). Why does it seem so coherent, the story move forward with ease, with less strained staccato switches from scene to scene, and all the scenes allowed more dialogue and development.

atblackkirkancientmonastery
Cinematography at Black Kirk provides continual mirroring effect, as if the two were reflections of themselves in one another’s mirrors

amidthestones1945ep3
Claire amid the stones in a memory sequence (from Episode 3)

Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
Say, could that lass be I
Merry of soul she sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye
Billow and breeze, islands and seas, mountains of rain and sun
All that was good, all that was fair
All that was me is gone

It’s the time-traveling. a what if nature of the fiction set up in the past, a playing with time so different times blend and part, doubling of characters from the past and the future. The real material is the relationship between Frank (yielding, gentle, heterosexual) and Black Jack Randall (sadistic, bisexual), Claire and Jamie (he attracts dominant gay males) to both of these. Claire moves away from a stressful life-passage in 1945 where the marriage is not working, a double narrative echoed or repeated in Claire’s relationship to Geillis, who we will learn is also from the future. Christianity versus paganism is an important strand across DuMaurier’s works. There is no magic but the one break from realism in time transportation

jamierememberingsisterrapedep2
Jamie remembering his sister, Jenny Fraser (Laura Donnelly) raped by Black Randall (will occur in narrative in Episode 12, Lallybroch) (from Episode 2)

Swirling about these are the strong female types, with Claire as voice-over narrator, her memory controlling all. We’ve met Mrs Fitz, Colum’s silent wife, Letitia (Aislin McGuckin), Geillis; we’ve seen Jenny Fraser thus far. There is a succession of scapegoats (made to suffer) who Claire works to free from suffering at the risk of her life and identity: Jamie is continually offering himself up, and she continually rescuing him (as he will her in the traditional swashbuckling mode). It is a question of a transcendent identity: a drive to abandon the daily material world (so you cross the stones) to lose yourself in a Bronte love. Jamie’s alter-ego, semi-servant, brother, Murtagh Fraser (Duncan Lacroix) advises Claire that Jamie needs an experienced woman, not a girl-virgin; like a Walter Scott male companion-servant he finds his meaning is serving Jamie.

At the same time the mater is rooted in Scottish culture, literature, and myth:

murtaghep2
Murtagh, ever there (opening Episode 2), a companion first seen in Scott’s fiction

In both episodes there are these vast hall scenes, in the second a man sings ancient songs to pipes:

firstentrance
Claire’s first entrance (within the first phase of episode 2)

singerep3
The harp-player and bard (towards the end of episode 3)

Now this one is about a man out late on a fairy hill on the eve of Samhain who hears the sound of a woman singing sad and plaintive from the very rocks of the hill.
[eerie music] [Gaelic singing continues] “I am a woman of Balnain.
“The folk have stolen me over again, ‘ “the stones seemed to say.
“I stood upon the hill, and wind did rise, and the sound of thunder rolled across the land.
” [singing in Gaelic] “I placed my hands upon the tallest stone “and traveled to a far, distant land “where I lived for a time among strangers who became lovers and friends.
” [singing in Gaelic] “But one day, I saw the moon came out “and the wind rose once more.
“so I touched the stones “and traveled back to my own land “and took up again with the man I had left behind.
” [applause] She came back through the stones? Aye, she did.
They always do.
It was a folktale, madness to take as fact, and yet half of what Gwyllyn had described had actually happened to me.

They have substituted Scotland for Cornwall: there is a loss DuMaurier is much darker ultimately and deeper, while Gabaldon more consistently self-conscious post-pastiche, playing though with similar strong female imagery

DuMaurier poem:

‘What can I cling to in life, what can I hold?’
With a cynical twist to the mind and a husk for the heart
The scapegoats of this generation go drifting past.
The children for whom the war was apparently won,
And nothing is certain, and nothing likely to last
For the child not bombed in Kensington (from DuMaurier Companion, edd Sarah Walters, p 131)

Gabaldon picturesque layering, the imagery is that of a woman’s body as as redemptive:

We struggled upward, out of the womb of the world, damp and steaming, rubber-limbed with wine and heat. I fell to my knees at the first landing, and Jamie, trying to help me, fell down next to me in an untidy heap of robes and bare legs. Giggling helplessly, drunk more with love than with wine, we made our way side by side, on hands and knees up the second flight of steps, hindering each other more than helping, jostling and caroming softly off each other in the narrow space, until we collapsed at last in each other’s arms on the second landing.
    Here an ancient oriel window opened glassless to the sky, and the light of the hunter’s moon washed us in silver. We lay clasped together, damp skins cooling in the winter air, waiting for our racing hearts to slow and breath to return to our heaving bodies.
    The moon above was a Christmas moon, so large as almost to fill the empty window. It seemed no wonder that the tides of sea and woman should be subject to the pull of that stately orb, so close and so commanding …. Outlander, the book p p 627

In technique the pace is slow, lingering, not much happens in the sense of moving the story forward. Instead we move back and forth in time as the film-makers develop the relationship between Claire and Jamie (the arc over-all) and unfold the other characters as Claire settles in and begins to practice her assumed profession and role. This too makes it differ from the new Poldark, which is too jumpy, with all too brief juxtapositions.

**************************

britishinscotland
British in Scotland (Black Jack Randall from the back) as imagined in this film series

It’s common knowledge that literary criticism is not a popular form — nor is real film criticism; only a small percentage of readers read it. One of the pleasures of Margaret Edson’s play, Wit (known for its presentation of a woman dying of cancer, whose excruciation of pain is not so much from dying from cancer but from the techniques, chemo, radiation and operation, used to “fight” cancer, one of the pleasures is its meditations on reading and especially making editions and essays; at one point Vivian Bearing claims the greatness of her work is that she offers ‘a thorugh examination of each [John Donne] sonnet, discussing every word in extensive detail.”

jamieasscotsfarmerlandlord
Jamie as Scots farmer-landlord at Lallybroch (memories from Episode 2)

Where does this detail come from? Let’s admit it: out of the mind of the reader elaborating thematically (it can be political, or moral, or psychological, or sociological, lots of options since the mid-20th century) on the text? and essentially it’s made up, it’s an extension. Take a much praised older book on Austen: Stuart Tave’s Some Words of Jane Austen. It’s no longer read much or liked because the words he tells his tales of are disciplinary of women: exertion (Elinor has to practice this] in S&S, expectations (Catherine’s false ones] in Northanger Abbey. mortification (Elizabeth’s) in P&P; the properness (Fanny) of the heroine in MP. We prefer the tales of say Claudia Johnson. One difference is these tales are not structured as narrative, but as arguments, within which the writer tells of the story of how her or his mind read the book.

clarediscoveringtheyear
Claire discovering what year it is by opening a book (Episode 2)

Criticism is not popular because most readers it seems do not tell themselves these tales. Most stay with the literal fiction and do not recognize the truth of that exegesis. They don’t see it, can’t see it, can’t go that far away from the story and characters, and can carry or elaborate a theme very briefly. Or are bored. Don’t see the point. They can read fan fiction, though and fan fiction is a form of fiction that elaborates from the text by telling a story not producing an argument. Film adaptations are further fictionalizations of a text. Further specific visualizations, aural, sensory.

castle

thistle
Castle and thistle (Episode 3)

The point is then which fictions about fictions seem to us to hold important truths — which seem to explicate the original fiction and which seem to us not connected enough to what we find there. What I am putting together is an attempt at adequate fictions about these films. All this from an intuition that the books and films descend from Sophia Lee’s Recess (1783, first gothic romance) at a distance, but immediately are an update of DuMaurier — so historical and regional romance inflected by time-traveling, what if fictions, playing with time so different times blend and part, doubling of characters from the past and the future.

samestreetusedfor1945and1743
Same street used for 1945 and 1743 (Episodes 1 and 3)

Next time: the nature of the story-telling and Scottish post-colonialism in a film

Ellen

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »