Sarah Layton (Geraldine James, close up)
I thought I'd mention how much I am enjoying the 1984 mini-series, The Jewel in the Crown, written by Ken Taylor, directed and produced by Christopher Morahan (I wonder if he's related to Hattie Morahan), with some episodes directed by Jim O'Brien, starring Tim Piggot-Smith, Peggy Ashcroft, Eric Porter, Geraldine James, Judy Parfitt, Art Malik, & many other great actors and actresses. filmed for four months in India:
It took me about 2 to 3 years to listen to all four books read aloud by dramatic readers from unabridged texts. I'd listen in my car going to and from GMU; I didn't go straight from one set of tapes to another; sometimes I'd listen to as many as 3 or 4 novels inbetween, but eventually I'd buy another box of cassettes. And I've read three of the four novels, read his Staying On twice (once I planned to teach it) and have seen the film adaptation of Staying On, directed by Silvio Narizzano, written by Julian Mitchell, produced by Irene Shubrik, starring Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson.
Still can this possibly account for the intensity of my response? Tears come to my eyes when Barbie comes on:
Barbie (Peggy Ashcroft) driven from Rose Cottage
I find myself mesmerized, and as I listen to the Jewel in the Crown read aloud again (yes I've begun with the first novel of the set, going through them all in my car again) I hear Eric Porter's voice for Count Bronofsky:
Count Bronosksky (pink cigarettes and all)
I feel such a sense of joy when the characters are happy, I just get such pleasure out of it. How I love Sarah Layton (Geraldine James).
Sarah Layton riding (perhaps Geraldine James,perhaps a stunt woman hired to ride as Sarah)
The minor characters too. Rosemary Leach as the snobbish, irritating, bad well-meaning all heart advisor, Aunt Fenny, Stuart Wilson, again the cad (he was Ferdinand Lopez in the Pallisers), Jimmy Clark.
Really out of all proportion to what it's worth. I've bought myself The Making of the Jewel in the Crown and look at the pictures. Tomorrow I go back to my project on the Austen moves, having finished my review of Wm McCarthy's Anna Barbauld. I am up to Pallisers 11:23 and only regret I am coming to the end of these, but tell myself now I will turn to Barchester Chronicles and have at least 3 more mini-series of Trollope to go through in the same minute way. My love for these films keeps me going at this arduous work. Why?
They reach me at some deep place. I suppose this is like Izzy's response to Ice-skating. My feeling is that these movies provide me with companionship of ideal people in controlled gracious circumstances. I am not so lonely; I am not threatened when with them. Their stories are made out of beautiful art that itself is shapely and gratifying. They behave in ways I dream people ought to. So no matter what might be critiqued (ambiguously at that too),whether it be seriously about rape and intense miseries,
Hari Kumar (Art Malik) and Daphne Manners after both are in effect raped
Daphne speaking to Sister Ludmilla (Matyelok Gibbs)
maybe because they are about intense anguish that cannot be assuaged (as Ronald Merrick's as ultimate outsider who is getting back somehow or other, making himself useful to all who despise him and would reject him if they knew of his homosexuality for certain),
Merrick (Tim Piggot-Smith) trying to save Teddy Bingham (Nicholas Farrell)
I revel in them.
I invite anyone who has read this to say why he or she loves (or dislikes) costume dramas, of the historical or film adaptation kind.