A Room with a View (1985)

2008 #14
James Ivory | 112 mins | download | PG

A Room with a ViewI can’t help but wonder if, back in 1985, there was any audience confusion between A Room with a View and A View to a Kill. One can imagine legions of Bond fans accidentally finding themselves with a witty heritage drama, and legions of old dears accidentally finding themselves with a man twice their age trying to be an action hero. (In actuality the films were released about a year apart — that being just one reason this is a particularly silly notion.)

Putting aside such nonexistent confusion, what of that witty heritage drama? Once again, thanks to the adaptations module of my degree, I’m stuck watching a film straight after reading the novel it’s based on. So far these viewings have supported my long-held theory that reading any novel before watching the film version (especially immediately before) is a Very Bad Idea. However good A Room with a View may be — and it certainly has its share of positives — it still pales slightly in direct comparison to the novel.

The film’s faithfulness is admirable at least, combining events effectively at times and at others leaving well alone. Unfortunately this “copying out” style of adaptation means that the dialogue is exactly as written but sometimes loses important elements through its abbreviation. In the novel, characters frequently mean something entirely different to what they say, but you wouldn’t guess so in the film. Similarly, a lot of the novel’s wittiness is lost — unsurprising, as much is carried in Forster’s narration, which here is largely left unadapted. “Largely”, because chapter names occasionally intrude as intertitles or subtitles. These usually merely skip what would be a few lines of expositional dialogue, but occasionally they’re entirely pointless, and frequently are rendered meaningless by what would otherwise be minor tweaks to the plot. As I suggested at the start, however, a lot of these flaws are only blatant when placed in stark contrast with the novel.

Others aren’t. Julian Sands is disappointingly flat as love interest George Emerson, and he frequently drags Helena Bonham Carter down with him (and not in the “written by Andrew Davies” sense). In my opinion, Bonham Carter is the weak line in an otherwise flawless cast, neither acting nor looking much like my image of Lucy (Sands might not give much of a performance, but at least he looks the part, and Emerson is meant to be quite awkward). This could well be just my personal vision clashing with that of the filmmakers, of course, but there you have it. Those two aside, the rest of the cast are excellent: Maggie Smith and Judi Dench are note-perfect, especially in the handful of scenes they share (it’s a real shame Dench’s character disappears before the halfway mark); Daniel Day-Lewis is the right mix of comical, annoying and unfortunate truth as Cecil; and Simon Callow, Denholm Elliott and a young Rupert Graves are also perfect fits for their roles.

Finally, no Room with a review (ho ho) can be complete without praising how gorgeous Italy looks here. The camera lingers on the art and architecture more like a documentary than a fiction film, taking the viewer on a sightseeing tour just as much as the characters. There are essays to be written (indeed, they have been) on why such spectacle is a bad thing, but if you don’t want to be so pretentious then it’s wonderful to look at. Which, in many ways, sums up the entire film.

4 out of 5

Jane Eyre (1944)

2008 #12
Robert Stevenson | 96 mins | download | PG

Jane EyreI was meant to read Jane Eyre in the first year of my degree, but, given a week to attempt what seemed a positively enormous tome (I partly blame the edition) and a coinciding essay deadline, I didn’t even attempt it. Instead I settled for a friend summarising it for me — I tuned out halfway through the very long retelling due to boredom, though whether that was the fault of the novel or its summariser I still don’t know. I finally got through Jane Eyre the year before last — not the novel, though, but the BBC’s apparently-definitive adaptation (has it been that long already!), following numerous extremely positive reviews at the time. That was good — because or in spite of the novel, I do not know.

And so I come to this version, made in the wake of Rebecca (ironically, a novel clearly inspired in part by Jane Eyre) and also starring Joan Fontaine, alongside Orson Welles as the brooding love interest, Rochester. Well, he’s supposed to be brooding, but as played by Welles he comes across as merely gruff, apparently with a slightly unusual fake tan. Despite a suitably dramatic entrance, Welles’ stilted and occasionally overplayed performance, as well as a lack of chemistry with the equally weak Fontaine, does nothing to liven up what is already a rather uninspired production. The first 20 minutes are, at best, a Dickens rip-off, though without the appropriate comeuppance for the villains; in this version, it’s less Dickens and more obscene Christian morality play, complete with flat performances and (obviously) an over-reliance on God.

This section moves slowly… and then so does the rest of the film. Considering I’m primarily comparing this hour-and-a-half version to a four-hour miniseries, that’s quite a feat. The plot’s twists and revelations are all sadly underplayed, removing much of their dramatic effect; the same can be said of the abrupt ending. Perhaps there was an assumption that the audience would already be familiar with them, but true or not their weakening helps ruin this interpretation. And that’s all without mentioning the atrocious French accent of Adele, Rochester’s young ward, which often sounds as much like a bad Welsh accent as a French one.

All round, then, a very poor effort. A handful of redeeming features (the odd nice bit of cinematography, brief flashes of some decent performances) keep it from quite sinking to the lowest mark.

2 out of 5

Rebecca (1940)

2008 #10
Alfred Hitchcock | 125 mins | download | PG

This review could be seen to contain some spoilers.

RebeccaI must confess that I don’t think I’ve come to Rebecca under the best circumstances for judging it as a film in its own right. As with last week’s Great Expectations, Rebecca is on my current University module, which means I arrive at it having just read both Daphne du Maurier’s original novel and, the afternoon before viewing, a detailed and very interesting account of the film’s genesis and production from Hitchcock and Selznick: The Rich and Strange Collaboration of Alfred Hitchcock and David O. Selznick in Hollywood (nothing like a snappy title, eh?) by Leonard J. Leff. Such reading conspires to lead me into direct comparisons with the novel (which, as with most adaptations, are ultimately unfavourable due to things having to be cut), as well as a preoccupation with what was going on during production.

But, trying to put such distracting things aside, Rebecca has a great many good points. The cast, for one thing, are perfect. There were serious doubts about Joan Fontaine as the lead, but she is spot-on as the shy, almost childish, Mrs de Winter. Laurence Olivier is equally effective as Maxim, and Judith Anderson’s Mrs Danvers is suitably scary, if significantly younger than I imagined. The production’s technical aspects are also highly admirable: while the early Monte Carlo scenes may be nothing especially exciting, the plot whizzes past and we soon find ourselves at the infamous Manderley, all large halls, fog-filled grounds, dramatic lighting and big camera moves. Especially of note is Maxim’s confession — a long chunk of dialogue in the novel, it would have been all too easy to just use a flashback, but Hitchcock instead employs a camera move across the empty room to suggest the narrated action.

Further comparisons with the novel are inevitable, of course. The film skips nothing of importance, condensing events effectively so that the plot moves at a decent pace. Some events, such as the fancy dress ball and following ship wreck, are even made more dramatic by combining them. Some choices are thoroughly bizarre though: the novel is well known for its first person narrative, something the film attempts to retain by featuring Mrs de Winter in every scene… until the end when, in a deviation from the novel, she remains at Manderley while we follow Maxim and co. to London for some final twists. This does lead to a dramatic reunion upon Maxim’s return to Manderley, but I’m not convinced such a brief moment was worth the modifications.

As expected, viewing in such close proximity to the novel also forces comparisons that aren’t especially warranted — for example, the film loses much of the characterisation of Mrs de Winter by unsurprisingly finding no way to adapt her frequent flights of fancy and imagination. But then, one can always read the novel for those things (and I’d recommend it — get past the famous but dull opening and it often rattles along), and so, judged purely on its own merits, there is a considerable amount to recommend in Rebecca.

5 out of 5

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939)

2008 #9
Sidney Lanfield | 77 mins | DVD | PG

The Hound of the BaskervillesArguably the definitive screen interpretation of Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, played by Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce, appear for the very first time here, in what would become the first in a series of 14 pictures starring the pair. (Incidentally, this will be the first in an irregular set of reviews of that series. I have the rather lovely Optimum box set, you see, and so shall slowly work my way through it. Though as I’ve already owned it for several years and only just started watching it (as with so many DVDs), I have no idea how long it will be before I finish.)

I’ll start by laying my cards on the table: The Hound of the Baskervilles is a vastly overrated Holmes tale, and one that has been unduly adapted at least 15 other times (that from a quick search of IMDb). As far as I can tell its popularity is primarily due to the circumstances around its original publication (it was the first Holmes story in nearly a decade, following his death in The Final Problem). Holmes is absent for much of the story, which plods along fairly uneventfully (or, at least, inconsequentially) until a slightly dubious climax involving a centuries-old portrait. Naturally, all of these flaws carry over into any faithful adaptation, and this certainly is one.

One of the novel’s strong points is its occasional Gothic styling, and this is something the film version does very well. Dartmoor looks fantastic, like something Tim Burton would have created were he working in the ’30s. It’s clearly a set, but it’s dramatic and moody and completely effective. After the dull and poorly-designed interior scenes in London, it’s fantastic when the film finally moves down into Devon and things… well, don’t exactly get going, but at least there’s something to look at! As with the novel the plot meanders by, diverted by an escaped convict and an entirely pointless (in this version at least) seance, until that painting-based resolution. All is not lost, however, as a particularly vicious-seeming attack by the hound livens things up considerably.

Rathbone is underused as Holmes, which is a shame as he immediately makes the part his own. Bruce isn’t as bungling and comedic as he would later become, though the signs are already beginning to show. And the infamous final line — “Oh Watson, the needle!” — is actually a huge anticlimax if you haven’t seen it before, an entirely pointless, meaningless and misplaced addition.

I feel like I’ve come down a little harshly on Hound of the Baskervilles, mainly thanks to a general unfavourable opinion of the source material. There are many better Holmes stories, often ignored thanks to the fame of this particular one. The following 13 films may be even less faithful adaptations than this, but I’m looking forward to their fun and frivolity, which will hopefully top Baskervilles. The moor really is fantastic though.

3 out of 5

Great Expectations (1998)

2008 #8
Alfonso Cuarón | 111 mins | download | 15 / R

Great ExpectationsAfter re-enjoying the classic David Lean version of Great Expectations (which I reviewed in 2007) last week as part of my adaptations module, it’s now the turn of this American-set re-imagining. Despite a generally-held negative opinion toward this version, I found it to be more of a mixed bag.

Its main problem is that it can’t escape its roots. Not a fault in an adaptation, you might think, but in the case of one so radical as this it is a flaw: you’re left comparing and contrasting it with Dickens’ novel and Lean’s film, rather than appreciating it as a film or narrative in its own right. It comes across more as an academic exercise in turning a British Victorian novel into a modern American movie than a believable tale that works in isolation. Indeed, many of the changes appear to be designed purely to help distance it: the changed character names, the focus on the love story, and so on. Yet it directly recreates many scenes from the novel, and it obviously retains its title, despite there being no reference to that in the film itself.

Another product of this re-imagining is an unremitting sexualisation of everything. When Pip — sorry, Finn’s — hand is placed on Ms Havisham — sorry, Ms Dismoor’s — chest his first guess is that it’s her “boob” rather than her heart; when 10-year-old Estella kisses Pip — Finn, even — it now comes with added tongues; Finn — Pip — Finn! — draws now, and what he draws are nudes of Estella; and then they have sex too; and there are undoubtedly other examples that have since slipped my mind. This was pre Y Tu Mamá También, of course, where perhaps Cuaron exorcised this sexual preoccupations — they’re certainly not so evident in Children of Men or (unsurprisingly) his Harry Potter. His penchant for long takes, as seen constantly to great effect throughout Children of Men, also put in the odd pleasing appearance here.

By the end, it’s tricky to know what to make of this Great Expectations. It’s nicely faithful for a modern version, and yet that forbids it from striking out as its own work — it’s a fairly basic romantic film, bookended with some bizarre American Gothic trappings. I think it must stand as neither a success nor a failure, but as an interesting curio in the canon of Dickens adaptations.

3 out of 5

That picture was the only one I could find in high enough quality to make a banner image. Honest.

Atonement (2007)

2008 #7
Joe Wright | 118 mins | DVD | 15 / R

Atonement“The Most Nominated Film of the Year” proudly proclaims a sticker on the cover of Atonement’s newly released DVD. Well, not quite: according to IMDb, Atonement stands at 68 nominations while No Country For Old Men has made it to a whopping 108! Nonetheless, it’s received a near ridiculous amount of acclaim on its way to awards season, and now, having missed it at the cinema, I can finally offer my opinion, just before it does its best to sweep the board at tomorrow’s BAFTAs.

There are certainly a lot of things in Atonement that definitely warrant their nominations, and in many cases the award itself would not be badly placed either. James McAvoy gives a strong lead performance (he is, of course, up for Best Actor at the BAFTAs) and even more astounding is 13-year-old Saoirse Ronan as Briony, wise beyond her years as the over-imaginative girl who causes so much misery. In many ways she’s the lead character, but as she shares the role with two other, older actresses, it’s no surprise she’s up for Best Supporting Actress — she probably stands more of a chance there anyway. She’s certainly one to watch, and can next be seen in Peter Jackson’s adaptation of The Lovely Bones, again as a leading character who’ll probably be designated supporting status because she’s so young. Keira Knightley’s performance, which has earned her a Best Actress nod, is certainly good, but if she wins it’ll be the strength of the film as a whole that carries her through against such tough competition. I should also mention the ever-excellent Benedict Cumberbatch, in a role too small to receive much recognition, yet central to the plot and well played.

Elsewhere at the BAFTAs, Atonement’s up for a slew of awards I’m not especially qualified to comment on in depth: production design, costume design, make-up & hair, sound, editing… Suffice to say the film looks luscious all round. The cinematography is certainly beautiful, capturing the lazy summer days of 1935 equally as well as the tumultuous wartime vistas. Arguably the stand-out sequence in this respect is the much heralded five-minute shot of the beach at Dunkirk. It’s perhaps over-hyped by this point but is still an impressive achievement, if not in the camerawork itself then in the staging of so many consecutive set pieces without a cut.

With all this considered, Joe Wright is a strong contender for Best Director, and also Christopher Hampton for Best Adapted Screenplay. The story jumps back and forth in time, occasionally to slight confusion but always clear enough to follow. The languid first half never drags, and the second half never feels weak despite the essential mystery already being solved. I won’t give away too much here, but the ending is also effectively pulled off, and the final twists feel more natural than tricksy. I haven’t read the novel so can’t compare it to that, but by all accounts it’s a very faithful adaptation. The only thing that really bothered me was that the dates didn’t seem to add up — apparently, World War Two had begun three-and-a-half years after the summer of 1935 (more like four-and-a-bit). A couple of other dates are unclear too, but that strikes me as the main one.

To digress to general BAFTA speculation for a bit (as if I haven’t already), for the directing win, Wright has to face (amongst others) last year’s winner, Paul Greengrass, though as (to my mind) United 93 was a stronger film than The Bourne Ultimatum, I don’t see him winning it again. In both of those awards it’s up against strong Oscar favourites No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood — when we’ve got our own film to praise, I’m not sure they’ll be able to stave off Atonement too much. The same goes for Best Film. But then there’s always Best British Film. In theory, if Atonement was good enough to take Best Film then it would take this too, but that’s often not the way — in effect, it’s a chance to reward two different movies. I can’t see Eastern Promises winning, but This is England, Control and The Bourne Ultimatum are all reasonable alternatives. If Atonement wins British Film I won’t be expecting it to go on to get Best Film as well. Of course, you can never be sure.

I appreciate this review has (quite deliberately) focused on Atonement’s BAFTA chances as much as its own merits, but hopefully that has still illuminated my thoughts on the film. It’s a very strong effort from all involved, with an unusually structured but no less engaging plot, beautiful cinematography, nice direction and admirable performances. All round, it’s just about enough to warrant 2008’s second

5 out of 5

The Mirror Crack’d (1980)

2008 #5
Guy Hamilton | 105 mins | TV | PG

The Mirror Crack'dA star-studded cast and the director of Battle of Britain, Goldfinger and three other Bond films can’t raise this adaptation of an Agatha Christie Miss Marple mystery far above the level of an ’80s TV movie.

There are some good lines, and it’s a Christie so obviously the fundamental story is good, but the direction is flat and lacks suspense, half the cast phone in their performances, and Angela Lansbury, lumbered with a sprained ankle and premature aging, seems to be in a dry run for Murder, She Wrote. The lack of involvement by the main character is something I always find problematic with Marple stories, even when the actress involved has the necessary twinkle. Edward Fox is her match as the detective who actually does most of the detecting for once (but is still robbed of the final revelation, of course).

The best bit, which I’ll just take a moment to highlight, is the opening. It’s a black & white murder mystery, the scene of the final revelation… and the print burns up just before the killer is revealed. The film cuts to a village hall, where the film was being screened and the projector’s just died. Miss Marple proceeds to explain what will happen to everyone, based on what she’s deduced from the film so far. A man at the back who’s seen it confirms she’s right. Much better than my summary makes it sound, this is by far the film’s highlight, one of the few whole scenes that rises above the pervading flaws.

Despite a few commendable elements, this is a good tale that’s not told as well as it could be.

2 out of 5

Easy Riders, Raging Bulls (2003)

2008 #3
Kenneth Bowser | 113 mins | DVD | 15

Easy Riders, Raging BullsDocumentary, based on the best-selling acclaimed book by Peter Biskind, about the decade in Hollywood between the death and effective re-birth of the studio system.

It’s a broad story, with many threads, which means this film has a tendency to sprawl all over the place as it attempts to take an overview of it in chronological order. Consequently it’s short on great insight, but does provide an overview of what went on in this period — that is, the story of how Hollywood made the transition from the old studio system to the era of the blockbuster (a method which still more or less exists), via a brief period where directors truly had auteur-level control.

There are numerous interesting interviewees to help the story along, all of them people who were actually there, who lived through it and helped create it. This makes for a refreshing change, as most documentaries of this ilk seem to be full of film historians and journalists. Of course, there are many big names notable by their absence, so when the film makes its rambling way onto the likes of Scorsese and Spielberg that familiar sense of historic detachment does begin to creep in.

All told, it gives a good overview of the shape of what happened in this period, and how Hollywood became what we know today. Anyone after deeper explorations (of the period, the people, or the films themselves) will want to look elsewhere. I suspect the book may be a good place to start.

3 out of 5

Piglet’s Big Movie (2003)

2007 #129
Francis Glebas | 72 mins | TV | U / G

Piglet's Big MovieI used to enjoy the Disney Winnie the Pooh series when I was younger. I also used to love the original books by A.A. Milne. In fact, I still enjoy the books — they’re witty, knowingly written, and often sweet. Sadly, Disney’s interpretation seems to have faired less well.

In this case it’s largely down to the first half, where the mostly original storyline and weak & randomly inserted songs simply aren’t up to scratch. However, things improve massively with a couple of fairly straight adaptations of Milne’s original tales.

Mildly amusing at times and with a positive (if predictable) message about friendship and self-worth, this would undoubtedly entertain young children — which, to be fair, is its intended audience. While it initially seems to fall far short for older audiences, it turns out to be not all bad.

3 out of 5

The Bourne Ultimatum (2007)

2007 #127
Paul Greengrass | 110 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13

The Bourne UltimatumThis final instalment in the action-thriller trilogy was recently announced as Empire magazine’s film of the year, following wide praise on release that dubbed it the best action movie in a long time. Unfortunately, I fear it may’ve become a victim of its own hype.

It’s certainly a good film for many reasons: its appropriately unrelenting momentum, even in dialogue scenes; several stunning action sequences; a mostly decent plot. But it’s also flawed: despite the globe-hopping, complex plot, it feels somehow slight; several villains and plot devices seem tacked on to create an over-arching plan for the trilogy, when Bourne had really dealt with all these matters in the first two.

Ultimately, it simply didn’t feel as entertaining as the first two instalments, though I had an odd sense that I should be liking it more. Perhaps future re-viewings will aid my appreciation.

4 out of 5