(UK 1992 140m) DVD1/2
Only connect
p Ismail Merchant d James Ivory w Ruth Prawer Jhabvala novel E.M.Forster ph Tony Pierce-Roberts ed Andrew Marcus m Richard Robbins art Luciana Arrighi, John Ralph cos Jenny Beavan, John Bright
Anthony Hopkins (Henry Wilcox), Emma Thompson (Margaret Schlegel), Helena Bonham Carter (Helen Schlegel), Vanessa Redgrave (Ruth Wilcox), Samuel West (Leonard Bast), James Wilby (Charles Wilcox), Joseph Bennett (Paul Wilcox), Jemma Redgrave (Evie Wilcox), Nicola Duffett (Jacky Bast), Prunella Scales (Aunt Juley), Adrian Ross Magenty (Tibby Schlegel), Jo Kendall (Annie), Simon Callow (Lecturer),
What will the film historians of the future make of the films of Ismael Merchant and James Ivory? Though I’d like to think otherwise, I think most ‘hip’ critics will dismiss them as an archaic form of prestige cinema, films not worth preserving from a time, cinematically speaking, when British cinema was trying to find a voice. Their films were old-fashioned, but was that necessarily a bad thing? Certainly some of their films don’t work, few could find anything too interesting in the likes of The Golden Bowl, Jefferson in Paris or Surviving Picasso, and despite The Remains of the Day, it’s for their E.M.Forster triptych that they are best remembered, and while A Room With a View and Maurice may be little better than prettified, well-acted large screen versions of TV costume dramas, Howards End transcends that. The first of their films to be made on the widescreen, and certainly the best cast film they ever made, it seems quintessential cinema even when at times it verges on the negation of it. It deserves any accolades of greatness given to it.
Helen Schlegel becomes infatuated with young Paul Wilcox and spends a weekend with his family at the country retreat of Howards End. After a night of passion, things cool in the morning and both families try to hush it up. However, when Paul’s elder brother Charles is married, the Wilcox family unwittingly rent the house over the way from the Schlegel family home. Only when Paul has gone to Africa and Helen goes to Germany, does Helen’s more discreet elder sister, Margaret, go across to visit Mrs Wilcox, left alone for a few weeks by her family, and they become close friends, during which time Margaret becomes aware that Mrs Wilcox is terminally ill.
Forster is not the easiest author to adapt to the screen as so much is left unsaid. Even David Lean came unstuck with A Passage to India, very much an old man’s final hurrah, solid, good looking, well-acted but underwhelming. Howards End, on the other hand, gives one pause for thought, allows the viewer to interpret for themselves the real power behind the story (the plot itself was always of secondary import to Forster, a Fabian who truly was a social commentator). He somehow always seemed distanced from his protagonists, especially the privileged ones depicted here.
Ivory is admittedly helped by a truly superb adaptation from regular collaborator Jhabvala, which even isn’t afraid to mix in a little light comedy – one thinks particularly of a mix up over an umbrella set to the 3rd movement of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony – and a real sense of the doomed romantic. There’s also a distinct lyrical beauty to Pierce-Roberts’ camerawork that was never seen again, with one sequence where Leonard Bast wanders through the bluebells at dawn minutes prior to his death which is breathtakingly symbolic to behold, like his own glimpse of Elysium at the point of reaching it. On the subject of which, while Thompson and Hopkins got all the accolades, and Bonham Carter gave the first real glimpse of the talent that would be capable of The Wings of the Dove and Fight Club, somehow it’s West’s Bast you recall most, one of literature’s great losers, a victim of both society and lady luck. As if to honour Forster’s wishes, the film really does connect, both emotionally and intellectually, refusing to paint characters black or white, but various shades of grey, a balancing act achieved and counter-pointed through the contrast between the grey streets of rainy London and the expansive vibrant colour of the meadows near the eponymous house.
A sumptuous film. Every frame a work of art. The darkened rooms that house Mrs. Wilcox, the trees in full bloom minutes before Bast is trampled by the book-case. Every performance is first rate: Hopkin’s is perfectly, respectfully odious. Thompson is the focal point for Ivory’s camera, a talent bursting on screen. Vanessa Redgrave… Her performance, a minor masterpiece, broke my heart and proved, once again, her to be one of the greatest actresses to ever grace the stage or screen. Like everything in this film, her turn seems effortless. One of my very favorite from its year of release. In my top 50. HOWARDS END is a perfect example of what I define pure cinema. A great film.
Hopkins, Redgrave and Thompson are just about perfect in this film. Helen Bonham Carter turns in a wonderful perfomance also. The Ivory-Merchant films are a mixed bag for me but this and Remains of the Day are wonderful works.
Well, JOHN GRECO, I agree with your summation. The Merchant/Ivory films are a mixed bag of results. Their “original” work (JEFFERSON IN PARIS, PICASSO etc.) often floods the duo with too many concepts for them to keep track of, like a builder without an architectual plan. To me, the duo always fairs best with literary adaptions of classic novels. THE REMAINS OF THE DAY is the rare adaptation NOT based on a classic work, but its themes are similar and fit the duo like a glove (its also Merchant/Ivory’s Best Film). HOWARDS END is absolutely their best adaptation of a classic work and totally legitimized.them, if A ROOM WITH A VIEW hadn’t completely, by scoring the presence of Anthony Hopkins. This film and REMAINS are a wholloping one-two punch from 1992-1993.
Dennis, I must strongly disagree with you when you assert that “REMAINS OF THE DAY is one of the few Merchant/Ivory adaptations NOT based on a classic work.”
Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel is flat-out one of the greatest written in the 20th century, a bonafide masterpiece of British literature and easily as great as the best Forster and James books the duo adapted. If I were to identify the greatest novels written over the past 100 years, REMAINS would be among them, and literary scholars are right there with near-unanimous support.
Nonethess you make some very fine points otherwise.
Sam, I have to agree with you on what you say about Ishiguro’s novel. It’s a gem and a classic of British literature. It’s one of the best books I’ve ever read. I am also a big fan of the film of “Howards End” which Mr. Fish has written a fine review for.
I agree with what Sam says, but I think you may mistake what Dennis means by classic. I think he means classic as in old, not classic as in great. Like an old car.
Well, SAM & PETER, I think we’re just splitting hairs on what defines a CLASSIC novel. I agree with you both, THE REMAINS OF THE DAY is an extraordinary book. However, when I said the Merchant/Ivory adaptation was not based on a CLASSIC novel, I meant it to mean a book that has not seen a shelf life of 50 years. THE REMAINS OF THE DAY is an INSTANT classic, for sure, I only meant to separate it from their other adaptations to illustrate they are great at interptreting book both young and old. REMAINS remains one of my favorite novels of recent reading was not inferring it to be any less than the some of the other CLASSIC novels the duo have wrestled to the screen. The difference I see between HOWARDS END and REMAINS is that REMAINS, in my mind, is their better film.
Thank you, Allan, that’s EXACTLY what I meant.
I would also like to stress that I believe the presence of Anthony Hopkins in HOWARDS END is a major ingredient to its commercial success. Hot off his Oscar for his chilling portrayal in THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, his clout and popularity gave HOWARDS END just the right shot in the arm for this film to be sought after by viewers that wouldn’t normally invest time in literary period drama otherwise. His performance, as with all of his work, is skillful and silently unnerving. REDGRAVE, on the othet hand, gives what I think is the best performance in the film. She exudes a magisterial sadness that is unforgettable. I’d like to think the myth is true that Jack Palance was so drunk when he yelled out the winner of the supporting actress Oscar for ’92 and called the last name on the envelope. I love the notion that Redgrave was the real winner over the forgettable Marisa Tomei in MY COUSIN VINNY.
On this I would have to disagree completely, Dennis. Redgrave was one of the weaker links in the cast (the Oscar nomination the usual Academy tossaway nomination to someone they deem worthy) and, in all honesty, the supporting actress Oscar should have gone to Miranda Richardson for Damage (indeed, Helena Bonham Carter would have been a better choice for Howards End than Redgrave). Then again, Redgrave is one of those actresses who was never remotely on screen what she was on the stage, rarely looking comfortable in her youth. Indeed, she’s one of those actresses who, like Ethel Barrymore, Yvonne de Bray, Edith Evans, Peggy Ashcroft and several others, only really came to terms with film acting after the age of 60. She’s done no better screen work than in If Walls Could Talk 2, The Gathering Storm, Venus and Atonement, all made after the age of 60. It’s also true of many actors, too – take arguably the greatest speaking actor of the 20th century, John Gielgud, only really came to terms with screen acting (or indeed wanted to, with only The Good Companions, a Disraeli impersonation and Julius Caesar to his name before 1964) at 60 and beyond, with Becket, Chimes at Midnight, Providence, TV’s Brideshead, etc. Likewise Hopkins, McKellen, Jacobi, Gambon, Holm, Plummer – and on the distaff side Mirren and Dench all greats who, aside from a couple of turns here or there, only came to dominate the screen in middle-age (or in Jessica Tandy’s case, indomitable old age). Others meanwhile, never made it on film and there are but morsels to remember them by on film – say John Clements, Antony Sher, Robert Stephens, Bernard Miles and on the distaff side Dorothy Tutin and Tallulah Bankhead.
Then take Wolfit, who treated film like a morsel to be decorated in ever-increasing layers of ham, or Burton, who while always arresting has only really Look Back in Anger, Becket, The Night of the Iguana and Virginia Woolf? to his name on film worthy of him, three of which were based on plays. Or for an American equivalent, Robards, who though with several great performances, never matched on film what he did in the theatre. Others like Paul Scofield and Wendy Hiller did understand film acting, but chose to appear fleetingly, while Robert Donat and Vivien Leigh, of course, had their own frailties to prevent them appearing as often as we and they would have liked.
One exception would be Michael Redgrave a theatrical great also great on film in his youth, but who, in an almost reversal of the trend, lost interest as he got beyond 50 and turned into a bit of a dinosaur on film. Always welcome, but the fire that burnt through The Lady Vanishes, The Stars Look Down, Kipps, Thunder Rock, The Way to the Stars, Dead of Night, Fame is the Spur, The Browning Version and The Importance of Being Earnest was gone, to be replaced by the scholarly but ever-increasing mannerisms of The Dam Busters, The Night My Number Came Up, Confidential Report, The Quiet American, The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner and The Go-Between. Others followed his example, electric in youth, but who turned their back on film largely, some to the point of often caricatured old ham – Bates, Finney, Courtenay, O’Toole, Harris, Maggie Smith.
Indeed, when one takes the great theatrical giants, only really Guinness or Olivier, Laughton, March and Hepburn (and to a degree Ralph Richardson, Claude Rains and Cedric Hardwicke) have film careers to rank anywhere near their stage ones.
Allan, that was one of your best pieces of writing. it felt like I was reading Halliwell’s Filmgoer’s Companion..
Though, as with Dennis, I’d say that Michael Redgrave gave more in those two decades than those bracketed with him, who – like you said were electric to begin with by flamed out for along time.
OK…. Allan. But, I still think Redgrave was the bast of the five. I’ll thank you, though, for the refresher course on “stage-to-screen” actors. Even when we disagree the discourse is always educational. You’re like an encylopedia on film facts. Amazing!
OK… So, HOWARDS END makes slot no. 38 on Allan’s count-down. I just took a look, again, at Allan’s NEARLIES (51-100). Figuring that because HOWARDS END placed at this position, I would have guessed THE REMAINS OF THE DAY would then place in the top 20-15. But, low and behold, REMAINS hit the NEARLIES a few posts back. THE BIG LEBOWSKI placed at no. 43. Considering Allan himself stated he felt FARGO is one of the best films by the Coen Brothers (and it did NOT make the NEARLIES), I’ll guess FARGO will place within the top 20. I’m worried now, though, BREAKING THE WAVES, CRUMB, TOY STORY, RAISE THE RED LANTERN and BLEU (Keislowski) have not appeared yet and there is no mention of them 51-100. Could Allan possibly be getting ready to shut these terrific films out? Will they place in the top slots? THE PLOT THICKENS…
Great choice, Allan – I agree this is possibly Merchant-Ivory’s finest hour. Hopkins has surely never been better. Must say I like Merchant-Ivory in general, including some of their films which tend to be overlooked, like the early ‘Shakespeare Wallah’ and the late ‘The White Countess’, which, like ‘The Remains of the Day’, is a story by Ishiguro – though ‘White Countess’ is an original screenplay rather than a novel.
I also enjoyed and admired your piece on stage to screen actors and am wondering what you think about John Barrymore in this context? I have the feeling he might have been even greater on stage than he is in the best of his films.
Oh absolutely, Judy, Barrymore’s film career pales into insignificance beside his stage career. Even Olivier said Barrymore’s 1924 Hamlet was the one that most influenced him. Sad only that he never managed to film any of his Shakespeare roles when he was still young and sober enough to have played them.
As for his film career, his silents are undoubtedly his best work, with that Great Profile always put to good use. Everyone recalls his Jekyll and Hyde where he used the old facial dislocation tricks of the great Richard Mansfield, but his Don Juan and especially The Beloved Rogue are classic silent swashbucklers and Tempest with Camilla Horn a fine revolutionary romance.
In talkies, he ate up parts like Svengali, was great in Grand Hotel, equally good effectively playing himself in Dinner at Eight, and delicious in comedies like Twentieth Century, The Great Man Votes and Midnight, the latter reuniting him with old love Mary Astor. Yet anything he did was tinged with a sense of what might have been. Such as the planned version of The Pickwick Papers Orson Welles wanted to do with Barrymore as Jingle and Bill Fields as Pickwick. Never came to fruition.
With regards to Barrymore, if you get chance watch the 1958 drama Too Much Too Soon, thoroughly forgettable but for Errol Flynn’s superb performance as Barrymore at a time when he, too, was staring perdition in the face. He deliberately doesn’t go for an impersonation; it’s a crime he wasn’t Oscar nominated for supporting actor.
Thanks very much for those thoughts – I’ve seen several of Barrymore’s movies but need to track down more of them and will bear your comments in mind, Allan. I do wish he’d managed to film some of his Shakespeare roles, as you say – in Jekyll and Hyde, I’ve read that his portrayal of Hyde was influenced by his playing of Richard III on stage at the same time, so maybe his performance in that gives a glimpse of his stage presence. I also rather like his performance as Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet despite the fact that he was on his last legs by then, but it’s only a fading shadow of what he must have been like in his early Shakespearean roles. I’ll definitely look out for Flynn’s performance in Too Much Too Soon, thanks again.