In retrospect it was probably a bad idea to watch the new version of Thomas Hardy’s famous story just a few days after seeing the restoration of the 1967 film. I spent too much time spotting all the events ditched from the script in the new version that runs 119 instead of 169 minutes. That’s quite a chunk of screen time gone. I’ll try to be objective in comparing the two.
The new version is puzzling as a production (from BBC Films and the long-standing UK production company DNA films). I’m guessing that the funding wasn’t there to make something on the epic scale of the original. It was a brave move to hire Thomas Vinterberg whose English language films have so far not matched his Danish successes. I expected something punchy from the director of The Hunt (Denmark/Sweden 2013) with the same cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen. Although the latter conjures up some remarkable visual sequences, this doesn’t feel like a project on which Vinterberg was totally free or properly engaged. I think that Carey Mulligan, cast as Bathsheba Everdene, had a fair amount of clout in choosing Matthias Schoenaerts as her co-star (playing the shepherd Gabriel Oak) and she and Schoenaerts offer the best performances in my view. The other strength is the costume design which is truly wonderful. I wasn’t that keen on Ms Mulligan’s hats but her riding gear and several of her dresses are breathtaking, especially a blue one with white decorative motifs that glow in the evening light. As I predicted, Mulligan matches Julie Christie in terms of performance. They present quite different characters so a direct comparison is not useful. Mulligan is a couple of years older than Christie was in 1967. She presents Bathsheba as more virginal, but also more stylish – still ‘girlish’ but with the strength of an ‘independent woman’. The film is worth seeing for Carey Mulligan alone.
Unfortunately much of the rest of the film is less sure about itself. It begins badly with a strange title suggesting that we are “200 miles from London”. Hardy’s ‘Wessex’ in Dorset is more like 130 miles. It’s not important, but who thought it was a good idea? As I’ve noted there are some stunning visual sequences, mainly of landscapes in mists, or in ‘magic hour’ lighting etc. – but there are some quite ‘flat’ scenes and at least one dreadful edit. The harrowing sequence depicting Fanny Robbins on the way to the workhouse (which includes this edit) is almost thrown away. I think the main problem is a poor script by David Nicholls who was probably asked to aim for the impossible in trying to condense an eventful novel to produce a two-hour film. Michael Sheen as Boldwood and Tom Sturridge as Sergeant Troy both seem like miscastings to me. They are both fine actors but they don’t have the starpower of their counterparts in the 1967 film, Peter Finch and Terence Stamp and the characters seem a little diminshed as a result. Sturridge in particular is severely hampered by the script which doesn’t give him enough time to explore the character’s complexities. In 1967, for many female audiences in the UK, Stamp was the sexiest man alive, apart, perhaps, for those who fancied Alan Bates (who played Gabriel Oak). What was particularly missing for Sturridge’s Sergeant Troy were key scenes with Fanny and the circus sequence for his return. Instead of being a cad, charming but a little dark, Sturridge’s Troy is reduced to being pretty but brutal.
I looked at a few reviews. Keith has already had a go at Thirza Wakefield in Sight and Sound for a different film and I was intrigued to read her review which on the whole is perceptive and interesting especially about Mulligan’s portrayal of Bathsheba as the ‘modern’ woman the script constructs, though she falls into the autuerist trap of referring to ‘Vinterberg’s camera’ (and its references to Victorian paintings), when surely it’s important that it’s the female perspective of Charlotte Brus Christensen. The ‘best’ review (i.e. the one that agrees with me!) is from Fionnuala Halligan in Screendaily – she’s very good on the production team.
In sum, this new adaptation is very good in parts and Carey Mulligan is excellent throughout. She makes a great romantic heroine, but the project lacks the scope of the novel and the scale of the 1967 adaptation. Nevertheless I hope we see more from Vinterberg and Christensen in a UK context. In the meantime, audiences not making thecomparison with the 1967 version will enjoy this adaptation.
Official US trailer (good for showing off the camerawork and Carey Mulligan’s Bathsheba):
The 4K digital restoration of John Schlesinger’s 1967 version of Thomas Hardy’s most popular novel has been in selected UK cinemas over the last few weeks leading up to the release of the new Thomas Vinterberg version on May 1st. I managed to catch the restoration at the wonderful Hebden Bridge Picture House. I remembered only a couple of scenes from a first viewing a long time ago and I enjoyed every minute of the restoration (there are 168 minutes in all but it felt like 90 – I know many think the opposite).
This film provides another of those examples of storytelling that divide some critics from some audiences. I can’t understand some of the negative comments made on the film’s initial release. For me there are five reasons why the film works so well. First is Hardy’s story. OK, it doesn’t have the depth of Tess or Jude the Obscure but there are enough eventful sequences threaded through the everyday depiction of life for rural communities in 1860s ‘Wessex’ to drive the narrative towards its expected conclusion. If you don’t know the story, Julie Christie is Bathsheba Everdene the young woman who inherits her uncle’s extensive farm and who is wooed in turn by shepherd Gabriel Oak, gentleman farmer Boldwood and dashing Sergeant Troy (the cad!). Second is the representation of the English landscapes of Dorset and Wiltshire and the set pieces of an outdoor communal meal, the wedding night drinking and the travelling circus among others. Allied to this is the cinematography by Nicolas Roeg and the equally fine production and costume design, the film and sound editing and Richard Rodney Bennett’s score. Third is the starpower of the four leads. In 1967 Julie Christie was at the height of her fame after Darling (1965) for which she had won an Oscar and Doctor Zhivago (1965) – although she had also asserted her interest in less mainstream work such as Fahrenheit 451 (1966) for François Truffaut (with Nic Roeg on camera). Peter Finch as Boldwood had been a stalwart of British Cinema as a leading man from the early 1950s, although his two biggest roles were arguably in the 1970s. Terence Stamp as Sergeant Troy and Alan Bates as Gabriel Oak represented two of the strongest acting talents and star performers to emerge in the 1960s. It’s salutary to remember the diversity and high quality of UK film actors in this period. I’m expecting Vinterberg’s new film to be very different and to use its performers differently. Faced with the quartet here, Carey Mulligan and co. would have difficulty radiating the same starpower.
The fourth strength of the film is its supporting cast, who inhabit their period dress, wigs and facial hair with real relish. I recognised several character actors but I would have believed anyone who told me these were non-professionals acting as themselves. It’s partly this supporting cast that helps steer the film away from the BBC ‘costume drama’ and the later designation of ‘heritage film’. In many ways the film looks like an American Western set down in Dorset, giving off the same sense of earthy vitality. Finally, what brings all these elements together is the trio of John Schlesinger, Joseph Janni and Frederic Raphael. This trio of director, producer and writer had worked together on Darling and for Janni and Schlesinger it was their fourth collaboration. I think that everything works in the film and it feels like a complete and polished production. The best compliment I can pay it is to say that it is almost as good as Polanski’s stunning Tess made 12 years later. Tess of the d’Urbervilles is the better novel and Polanski is a Champions League director compared to Schlesinger as a solid Premiership director, but the two films have things in common including a sense of landscape (even if Tess cheats by using Brittany).
I’m not sure what to make of the 4K restoration. Sitting close to the screen, what seemed like excessive grain was evident in the opening shot. Some scenes did seem very dark and I wasn’t sure if this was Roeg’s intention or whether it was a feature of the attempt to create true blacks in the digital print. I’m no expert on such things. On the cinematography generally I was surprised by the combination of what I would term a classical use of close-ups in the ‘Scope frame and several more innovatory devices. It would take two or three more viewings to fully appreciate Roeg’s work in terms of colours, framings and camera movements. The opening shots of the downs and the later sequence in which Sergeant Troy ‘ravishes’ Bathsheba with his sabre are stunning.
I’m looking forward to the new version of the story and especially Carey Mulligan’s Bathsheba. Christie was the 1960s star of my teenage years and I realise that I was somewhat gushing about Mulligan’s role as the 1960s schoolgirl in An Education. I’ve found Ms Mulligan’s choice of roles since then to be a mix of the very interesting (Never Let Me Go and Shame) and those which I’ve no real wish to see (Wall Street and The Great Gatsby). She is clearly an intelligent actor and with Vinterberg she should be able to create something wonderful. Julie Christie seems at times too girlish and flighty to be Hardy’s Bathsheba – but she is still the star of the show. She dominates her scenes by the way she moves and uses her costumes. I never tire of watching her. I suspect that Carey Mulligan has the acting chops but that they will be deployed rather differently.
I’m glad I saw this World War II romance drama – one of the best of recent co-productions. I fear that many audiences will have been put off by reviewers like Peter Bradshaw in the Guardian who seem to be completely oblivious to its better points. It isn’t without flaws but mostly it is very good.
It’s worth mentioning the production background in some detail since it’s unusual in some ways. ‘International films’ made in Europe in English have been a feature of mainstream cinema since the 1950s, but usually these are in some way ‘Americanised’ even though they have European settings. Despite a credit for The Weinstein Company (the US distributor) and an American in the lead role, Suite Française is a French property made by Europeans (mostly British) in Belgium, but with a major French partner in the form of TF1 Films and Canadian input from Alliance/eOne. I mention this because some commentators have referred to a ‘Hollywood film’. Suite Française will get a major French release, presumably dubbed into French? It seems to have had a substantial budget and I wonder how many of the actors (mostly Brits and Germans) could have worked on a French language version at the same time? Just to clarify, the French characters in the film speak (British) English with accents and dialects that represent their position in society. The Germans speak German (with subtitles), except when they talk to the French, when, of course, they speak English. It all works fine. As the convention goes (in for example Kenneth Branagh’s Wallander TV series), all the printed material on screen is in the local language, i.e. in French.
Suite Française was published as a novel with two parts in 2004. It was written in 1940-1 by Irène Némirovsky, the emigré Ukranian Jewish writer, successful in France since the 1920s, who was sent to Auschwitz where she died in 1942. Her notebooks were re-discovered by her daughter in 1998. The first part of the novel tells the story of the flight from Paris at the time of the German invasion in June 1940. This is briefly alluded to in the opening scenes in the film which then goes on to adapt the second part of the novel. This deals with the early period of German Occupation of Northern France up to late Summer 1941 when Germany invaded Russia and the troops billeted in the small town/village of Bussy are sent to the Eastern front. Némirovsky had envisaged five parts for the overall story.
The film reworks this second story, ‘Dolce’, and focuses on Lucile (Michelle Williams) a young woman who had barely met her husband before he joined the French Army (and became a prisoner of war) and who must now endure being bossed about by her fierce mother-in-law (Kristin Scott Thomas). Because they live in the best house in the village the two women are forced to accept a German officer as a lodger. Bruno (Belgian actor Matthias Schoenaerts) is a musical composer from a military family, an Oberleutnant, both cultured and ‘gentlemanly’ yet prepared to endorse the ‘spirit of community’ in the German Armed Forces. His fellow Leutnant is more aggressive and creates disturbance in another billet. The ‘other ranks’ are generally boisterous as in most successful invading armies. These are not necessarily the conventional Nazis of Hollywood war films – but they do carry out draconian policies in dealing with the local people.
Various French films of the 1940s have similar themes. For instance the classic Henri Clouzot film Le Corbeau (The Raven, 1943) includes poison pen letters written by villagers about each other during the Occupation and Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le silence de la mer (The Silence of the Sea, 1949) shares several key elements. This latter film was based on a novel published in 1942 by Jean Bruller but it seems unlikely that there was any connection between Bruller and Némirovsky. However, one link between the narratives does point to a major weakness in the new film – the voice-over narration by Lucile. In the Melville film the narration is essential since the French couple who have a German officer billeted on them refuse to speak (a strategy initially employed by many ‘occupied’ people – including Lucile’s mother-in-law). We learn about their thoughts from the old man’s narration which continues throughout much of the film. In Suite Française the narration comes at various points from Lucile but it is unnecessary in my view – we can see what she is thinking from her facial expressions, posture, actions etc. Not only that but it is mixed in an odd way and sounds ‘wrong’.
However, apart from the narration, everything else works OK. Bradshaw is very critical of Michelle Williams, arguing that she gives “a worryingly awful lead performance . . . [she] looks like she’s got access to serious amounts of black-market Mogadon cut with Temazepam”. I went back to the novel and the first description of Lucile suggests that she is “beautiful, blonde with dark eyes, but a quiet, modest demeanour and ‘a faraway expression'”. I’m not sure what Peter Bradshaw expects here. The narrative is about a woman from a region where middle-class society shows (in Némirovsky’s words) “a complete absence of any forms of emotion”. This is a woman who slowly blossoms and falls for the younger man who has invaded her home – where she is miserable under her mother-in-law’s gaze. I find that an interesting story. My impression is that overall, the adaptation follows the book’s narrative – some scenes are presented almost as written.
I could go on and pick Bradshaw’s review to pieces and I’m tempted because his approach with its ‘witty’ put-downs angers me so much. Instead, I’ll just focus on the issues of realism and social class. There are several interesting video clips on YouTube in which the various HoDs in the crew discuss how they researched French fashions and make-up in the period and how they studied various films including Le corbeau and Renoir’s La règle du jeu (The Rules of the Game, 1939). They found a village close to the Belgian border which had been by-passed by progress and they were able to dress it effectively. Saul Dibb was appointed director of the film partly because of his success with The Duchess in which he managed to make a film which appealed to modern audiences without losing the sense of period setting.
Social class is crucial to the story. Némirovsky herself was the daughter of a wealthy banker in Russia and she carefully delineates the social strata of village society. At the top are the Vicomte (and Mayor) and his wife. Lucile’s mother-in-law is the richest non-aristocratic landowner. Lucile’s female friends are tenants she tries to protect from her mother-in-law’s avarice. There is also a Parisian woman and her daughter – Jewish refugees able to pay a higher rent (and in some ways representing Némirovsky herself?). The two Leutnants are both clearly ‘gentlemen’ and this is important in their dealings with the women. The women after all are living in a community where most of the fit young men have disappeared. It may be a cliché but we know that the one young man, a farmer disabled by a war injury, will be important in the drama that follows. Bradshaw refers to “a golden-tinted saga of everyday French collaborating folk”. This is an insult to Némirovsky who has actually provided us with certainly a ‘golden moment’ in the Spring and Summer but also a complex set of relationships and behaviours in which both collaboration and resistance are explored, much – one imagines – like they must have been across France in 1940-1.
I’m going back to the novel (which has re-entered the paperback chart) to see in more detail what Saul Dibb and Matt Charman have done with the characters and storylines in their adaptation. As my defence of Michelle Williams makes clear I have a lot of time for her acting skills and I found her scenes with Matthias Schoenaerts worked well. The film has clearly missed attracting the big audience its makers envisaged (it’s unlikely to make £2 million in the UK). I think it may find that audience on the small screen. I’m intrigued to find out what will happen to the film in France – it feels very British to me.
Official UK trailer:
Other French ‘Occupation’ films on this blog include:
Un sécret (2007)
Un héros très discret (1995)
Le silence de la mer (1949)
This film has won attention for the deserved acting awards at the BAFTAS and the Oscars for Julianne Moore. However, this screening at the Hyde Park Picture House honoured the returning son – co-writer and director of the film Wash Westmoreland was raised in the Yorkshire and later emigrated to the US. So an enthusiastic audience included people connected with his schools, FirTree Primary and Wetherby High School, members of a teen pop band in which he played and cinema regulars. Wash was introduced before the screening and received a warm welcome. He told us he remembered his first film at the Hyde Park Picture House, Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1970), and later (aged 16) coming to see The Deer Hunter (1978). He also started his film career in Leeds on Super 8. We then watched the film written and directed by himself and his partner Richard Glatzer for a combination of US Independent film companies with support from New York State Film Office. The title character is Alice Howland (Julianne Moore) a fifty year old professor of Linguistics at Columbia University. She is married to the successful medical practitioner, John Howland (Alex Baldwin). She also has a married daughter Anna (Kate Bosworth), a younger son Tom, and an unmarried daughter Lydia (Kristin Stewart) who is attempting to make an acting career without going along the educational route. The latter is a cause of dispute between mother and daughter. After several memory lapses Alice goes for consultation and then a number of tests. She is diagnosed with an inheritable form of Alzheimer’s Disease. The inheritable aspect causes concerns for Anna. And Alice’s rapid deterioration in terms of her mental capacity causes concerns and problems for her family. It also has an increasingly negative impact on her work. But the focus of the film is the experience of Alice herself, something that marks this film off from others that have treated the disease. We follow Alice’s increasingly frustrating and disturbing downhill struggle to the point where her daughter Lydia returns to care for her mother when John obtains a new and prestigious post in Boston. The acting in the film is uniformly good, but Moore’s performance stands out. This is a subtle and very carefully judged characterisation. Moore apparently visited Alzheimer Centres and talked to sufferers. So there is a method aspect to the film, as there is in the Lydia’s onscreen performance. Baldwin’s John is brisk, not exactly unsympathetic but wanting to get on with life. The film predominately uses a shallow focus, which supports the concentration on Moore but occasionally also frustrates one’s attention to other characters and actions. As one might expect with this sort of drama there is extensive use of music. This is noticeable but well-balanced in the soundtrack. The script makes use of the character’s linguistic interests to point up the progress of the disease. There are numerous visual and aural motifs that offer a linguistic feel to the film. There are several quotations used: we see a performance of the closing scene of Chekhov’s Three Sisters. And I was pleased to hear an extensive passage from Tony Kusher’s very fine Angels in America. The film closed with a round of applause with practically the whole audience sitting through the entire end credits: though there was a deal of conversation and a few mobile phones on. There was then a Q&A with Wash Westmoreland. The presenter asked a few questions and Wash talked about how he came to work on the film. He and his partner were asked to adapt the book of the same title by Lisa Genova. Wash’s partner had been diagnosed with a degenerative disease – amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. So their life constantly threw up parallels to the story on which they worked. He was full of praise for the cast, including Alex Baldwin and Kristen Stewart, both of whom have ‘reputations.’ He remarked on the use of shallow focus as a way of focusing on Alice and explained that the book relies heavily on internal dialogue. So the film had to develop ways of presenting the point of view of Alice. There were several questions from audience members. He explained that the author drew on her own experience with her grandmother to write the book that they adapted. The book was originally turned down by publishers so she self-published it on the Web. This led to a publishing contract from Simon and Schuster and the book becoming a success. Wash and Richard worked on the script together, taking it in turn on their typewriter – nice to hear of one still in use. There is a speech by Alice in the film to an Alzheimer sufferers’ meeting which Richard wrote, seemingly drawing on his own experience of a degenerative illness. By the time the shoot arrived Richard had ‘lost his ability to speak'; and had to rely on an i-Pad on set. The actual shoot took 22 days, though these comprised from 12 to 14 hours a time. Wash also talked about growing up and later on meeting Richard in LA in 1995. Richard has already directed a film Grief about a couple parted by Aids, and they also worked on other films and television series. Their adaptation followed the book closely (as the Sight & Sound review confirmed). Wash said that the film’s ending was also as in the book, though he and Richard added the extract from Angels in America. I had to leave before the end in order to catch a bus. Otherwise I would have liked to ask Wash to what extent they had deliberately avoided the more unpleasant aspects of the disease. The increasing frustrations of such a decline are well presented in the film. But from personal experience with a family member I know that there are occasions when situations become quite combative: and there are occasions when things get really grim. Apart from one not every explicit toileting mishap the film avoids this. And the process of the disease is not followed to its frequently grim ending. Still Alice is not alone in this. Other films dealing with dementia, Iris (2001), The Notebook (2004) and Away From Her (2006) come across with the same restraint. The most explicit treatment that I have seen of the situation was in a Swedish film, This tasteful discretion is partly explained by the films uniformly treating of families from the various strata of what we call the middle classes: Notebook has the lowest class register. Certainly in all these films the family or characters seem to been economically affluent, relatively well-educated and therefore cushioned from the sharper end of social deprivation. I think a working class tale of dementia would offer a much grimmer portrait.