Showing posts with label Merchant Ivory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Merchant Ivory. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

March Bloodstones: Helen and Margaret Schlegel in Howards End

The bloodstone is the stone of March, and March is women's history month. Hence this post, (first entry HERE).
                 
Jhabvala and Ivory don’t have the comfort of Forster’s lush narrative to wallow in, so they’re prevented from establishing – immediately – the radical ways of the Schlegel sisters, and yet from that very first visit Mr. Bast pays to their flats one is swayed to believe that there’s something peculiar about them. There’s already something eccentric in the on-and-off engagement between Helen and Paul and as Mr. Bast raps at the door – to retrieve his stolen umbrella – there’s something even odder about Margaret’s, “Not again, Helen. She is an incorrigible thief.” It’s not exactly courage, as yet, but it’s an essential bit about organic everything in Howards Ends unfolds – it’s never uncinematic but it always retains a definite literariness.
 
Helen seems like the more obvious candidate, but the quietness with which Margaret approaches her tentative relationship with Mrs. Wilcox seems decidedly gracious in its way. It’s the sort of selfless nobleness that we come to define her character by, and though it’s pointless to see the character through any sort of feministic lens it’s notable that both she and Helen define their bravery in relation to the men about them. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Again I come to this quandary of defining courage, and like Deanie Loomis (but, perhaps, not so difficultly) finding overt acts of courage is rare. Yet, the fact that they’re so erudite and well-meaning, even in their middle-class naïveté. The Edwardian era isn’t as symbolic as repressed women as, say, the Victorian era but considering how the upper-class Mrs. Wilcox feels about women’s education I can’t help but feel some commendation is worthy of them – although Aunt Jules’ aside “…but their father was German, and that is why they care for literature and art” seems (like everything about her character) superfluous and ridiculous.
Because it’s the moment where the two storylines finally interact, the wedding emerges as that obvious moment for watching different types of “courage”. Taking Forster and putting him to screen seems to be such a dubious task, and I have added admiration that Helena Bonham Carter manages to toe that line between histrionic and passionate so finely. The same goes for Thompson, in opposite form; even when Margaret is at her most dubious it’s difficult not to identify with her. True, her knee-jerk embarrassment to Helen’s theatrics seems to subvert any significant act of courage and if you’re sinister and think that if, perhaps, Helen’s pleas for equality (for the Basts) is driven by romantic inclinations then it does the same. Still, as much as the narrative (and in lieu, the film) have that utilitarian function of showing us a “new” England the nice thing about Howards End is how complex the characters.
I hate to think of it as some sort of misguided penance, but it’s to Helen’s credit that she bears her pregnancy alone – even if there’s something vaguely repressive about her intended plan to spend the duration of her pregnancy. For all her excitability, Helen is defined by childishness where Margaret – as the older one – emerges as, arguably, the braver of the two. Emma is a powerhouse opposite Antony towards the end as she prepares to leave him, and it’d be an injustice to her (Forster, Jhabvala, Ivory and the film) to see her reneging of that decision as evidence of her lack of courage. It’s the very thing that defines Margaret, her gentle grace in spite of the obvious and there’s that looming sense of justice as the camera pans over to Helen and her child and Margaret and Henry walking the plains. Howards End is not a women’s novel (thematically, or audience wise) but Forster’s characters and the interpretations of Thompson and Bonham Carter are fine evidence of courageous women – their excessive chatter is confirmation.
                       
As Mr. Bast says, “The more a lady has to say, the better. Ladies brighten every conversation.”

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

“We’re not odd, just over expressive”

“There is something peaceful and quiet about Howards End, starting with Vanessa’s haunting walk and introduction. To me, it feels like the essence of the British countryside, of elegance and that high class feeling that Brits always put in their period films. Howards End is, to me, James Ivory’s greatest achievement, such a delicate film, but with such power of acting and fascinating plot.”
Alex (of Alex in Movieland and My Last Oscar Flick) always manages to make each of his words count and his summation of Howards End is fittingly perceptive.
Like him, I think of Howards End as the best work from the Merchant Ivory team, and like him I think of its beginning with Vanessa Redgrave soon after I hear the name. Howards End opens with a picturesque image of a woman walking through a green field near the eponymous Howards End. She, too, is clad in green, and though we don’t know it as yet this woman is the patron saint of Howards End (the film and the place). And though it opens with that image of Miss Redgrave, the story begins just after. An engagement impulsively arises and is broken just as swiftly. A bumbling aunt makes her way to a far off cottage, mistaken identities arise and harsh words ensue – and all this within the first ten minutes only. Yet, remove this preamble and Howards End is no worse (or admittedly, no better) for it. Even though I was drawn to Howards End on first viewing, it took a few more for me to appreciate the importance of this prologue and a few more for me to fully grasp the significance of Redgrave’s sombre walk through the field. And yet, the film isn’t really about Mrs. Wilcox. Like Forster’s original novel, it’s a story of class division in early 20th century England. There are the middle class Schlegels – booklovers and idealistically (if pedantically) good, the upper-class Wilcoxes – sometimes brittle and unrelenting but more than just caricatures and the lower class Basts – there are only two, but they’re just as important. Howards End takes a look at the unlikely clash between these three different groups, and though it’s not a particularly subtle message (Forster’s novel is almost a complete allegory) it’s a pertinent one.
            
The name Merchant Ivory was in the nineties (and remains, but with less alacrity) a name indicative of good literary adaptations. Howards End easily exists as my favourite. Screenwriter Ruth Prawer Jhabvala seems incredibly at ease adapting Forster to the screen, so that the machinations of these very “literary” characters never come across as unnatural. She does the same with A Room With A View, another Forster novel, but this is in a class of its own. It’s interesting to note how much of Forster’s book (and actual lines) make it into Jhabvala finished script. The lines are as precise as few period pieces and sets up the chance for the actors to floor us with their deliveries, and they do – they really do. When Jose from the wildly insightful (but yet oddly hip) Movies Kick Ass sent in his blurb I wondered “why review it?”…he essentially summed up what I loved about it….
  
“It’s impossible to watch this movie and avoid being haunted by the image of Vanessa Redgrave walking along a vast path of grass. The ethereal nature of this scene sets a strange mood over a film that so unsentimentally examines the clash of social classes and the creation of what was supposed to become modern England. Emma Thompson and Helena Bonham Carter (both subtly extraordinary) play sisters who come to represent different schools of thought at the beginning of the twentieth century. Anthony Hopkins and Samuel West are their male counterparts who also become symbols for the underlying themes E.M. Forster addressed in his brilliant novel. The miracle in the movie though is watching these symbols become human and witnessing how the film works as a wonderful political study and as an involving, intense emotional drama. Few movies master with such ease the dichotomy that exists between mind and heart; which can be fierce enemies or intimate friends.”
It’s the penultimate line above that jolts me in particular. In transferring a novel so rich in symbolism to the screen Ivory and company manage to avoid one of the unnerving possibilities – caricatures. Instead of the characters becoming symbols, the symbols turn into characters (it seems synonymous, but mull it over – it’s not)
Emma Thompson’s Oscar win for Howards End remains as one of the most obviously good decisions the Academy has made in the Best Actress category. Her performance never fails to impress me upon subsequent viewings, even though to some degree it lies less in Thompson’s acting abilities (which are assuredly excellent) but in her ability to put the audience at ease. She’s only the de facto lead of the film (the main quarter are all given equal time for the most part) but it’s imperative for us to find Thompson’s Margaret to be a trustworthy, if simple, woman. Listening to Thompson recite her lines (and really, she doesn’t recite lines as much as she lives them) there is not the slightest trait of self-consciousness. Emma is so thoroughly Margaret we immediately believe her devotion to Helen – “what do I care Aunt Jules, Helen is in love – that’s all I need to know”. It’s one of her first lines and though it’s the beginning we already know all we need to about this woman.
         
Consider the words of Luke of Journalistic Skepticism (don’t let the name fool you, he’s much to opleasant to be a cynic):
“Battling through the myth that Merchant Ivory films are overlong and overwrought, Howards End combines the immense talents of its cast, particularly the always-lovely Emma Thompson and the startlingly beautiful Helena Bonham Carter, with an impossibly elegant backdrop. It’s a gorgeous costume drama that never looks down on its audience, and Thompson’s performance is mannered loveliness.”
It’s a period piece, but that doesn’t make it any less “real”. Howards End is intent to presenting as precisely normal a world as possible and Emma manages to find nuances in even those most rote of lines and adds a dash of personality in the places we’d least expect. For example, I love a slight moment where Redgrave’s Mrs. Wilcox instructs her to write her name on the top of the woman’s Christmas list – Emma’s gleeful obedience is amusing and completely in keeping with her character. This is the sort of woman who grows up before her time, but still retains a bit of the silliness – willing to be pleased at being at the top of someone’s Christmas list.
          It sets her in perfection opposition (I use the word loosely) to her sister, played excellently by Helena Bonham Carter – the Oscar snub heard around the world (so says me). Helen is just slightly more perverse than her sister, retaining a childish streak of meanness that can show itself at the most inopportune of moments, even when the lines don’t show it. A young lady looking for her husband at their home is given the tart response, “you’re welcome to search for him if you like” – added to Helena’s deadpan delivery and just the slightest trace of a smile playing on her lips makes it impossible for us to dislike her even as she adopts an almost ridiculous sense of pragmatism as the film reaches its close. It’s a fine line she treads, and in the same way that Emma avoids turning Margaret into someone we cannot love even as she does things we don’t care for, we still believe in Helena’s Helen even when we want to slap her. Perhaps more so. Her task is just as difficult as Emma – are people so devoted to the cause? Helena makes it plausible.
It took me years to finally appreciate Anthony Hopkins, whom I now realise plays his role so excellently I subconsciously feel he’s giving a bad performance. True, it’s nowhere near as good as his next alliance with Merchant Ivory, but he’s so subtle (blink and you’ll miss some of his expressions) I eventually realise he’s doing an excellent job. It’s not that the men are put on the backburner in Howards End. In fact James Wilby and Samuel West play pivotal roles reaching to the core of their characters. West particularly is taxed with an almost unplayable and idealistic character (for some reason he reminds me of Lovborg in Hedda Gabler). But West is so willing to trudge on through the righteousness – that is not self-righteous – I believe him even at his most dubious. Simple acts like refusing a substantial amount of money is more than just a pretentious act of gallantry, but a requisite to the character he’s carved and for someone who’s had her fair share of chivalrous leading men it’s no mean feat when I say that Helena has never seemed more at ease with a leading man. The scenes between the two bring a romanticism to the narrative that’s fittingly contrasted with the adulterous undertones and its firm opposition to the Anthony / Emma pairing.
Perhaps because it’s such a tribute to its trade Howards End makes me write like I’m still in high school , but it’s obvious nonetheless that it is one that I love so.
Howards End is the second masterpiece from the Merchant-Ivory team (E/N masterpiece #1, masterpiece #3], working at the height of their creativity. Anyone expecting the dreamy romanticism of their first masterpiece, A Room With A View, may be surprised at the complexity, subtlety and maturity of this drama. The luminous Emma Thompson, passionate Helena Bonham-Carter, and powerhouse Anthony Hopkins headline this tale of a country house, its meaning in the lives of its inhabitants, and its role in a series of misunderstandings that bring belated contentment to some, and ruin to others.

Gorgeous to look at, a dream to listen to, top-notch in all departments, this is intelligent film making at its best. Compelling and entertaining, it faithfully paints a tapestry of Forster's themes of love, class, family tradition, infidelity, and the yearning of artistic fulfillment. Vanessa Redgrave's supporting turn is but one of the film's many outstanding performances. I am also haunted by the symbolic image of a poor hanger-on literally crushed by his literary hopes and dreams. Howards End would sit proudly at the top of anyone's list of favorite films.”
So says Tom of the delightfully diverse Reinvention: The Journal of a Dog Lover...
It’s practically perfect in every way and so delicately made, it’s a pity many don’t even remember it. It’s #2 on my list of favourites, and really it’s interchangeable with the one to come since they’re both flawless, or thereabouts. (So, some of you would have discerned my obvious top choice.)
           
Do you care for Merchant Ivory? Do you care for Howards End? Speak up.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Random Thoughts on A Room With A View

When A Room With A View closes and we segue into the ending – unlike anything Forster had written – I’ll admit, I get a little happy. I’m always wont to call myself a cynic, I usually am, but I can’t deny that Lucy Honeychurch’s happiness makes me just (vicariously, of course) as pleased. It’s one of the reasons I don’t read A Room With A View in its entirety, even though I’m sensitive to the fact that a happy ending makes us lose Forster’s point – but so be it. It’s a little similar to my response to Atonement’s end, so I guess I’m really an idealist at heart.
I wonder if there’s some point that on all three of Merchant Ivory’s Oscar bids they lost to films that were more (broadly at least) male centred. Truth is, I’d have given The Age of Innocence the win in the last bid, but Scorsese’s tempered piece wasn’t even in the running. It’s not that Merchant Ivory is women based, regardless of how much I adore film books will always be my first love and it’s in this same way that Merchant Ivory is not for everyone. Of course, neither Platoon, Schindler’s List or Unforgiven are films for everyone but easily – the audience base is wider. A Room With A View, like so many of Forster’s works, examines the issue of class divisions in England but unlike a certain other class division piece A Room With A View is definitely milder – not for the worst, though. The film concerns…
A Room With A View stars Maggie Smith in a register she’s particularly used to playing, and yet her Charlotte is not a lazy characterisation...and Helena Bonham Carter as Lucy Honeychurch is lovely...it's her second film so she's not as developed as she was in the nineties but as Jose says...Her Lucy's combination of sexual awakening and innocence is delightful and sweeping. You can't put it any better than that. She's so lovely and she's only a part of the excellent cast. Denholm Elliot and Julian Sands are good as is Daniel Day Lewis and Judi Dench is small but fulfilling roles - before they became legends of the trade. I don't know why A Room With A View isn't remembered just a little more, it's such an excellent piece and it's so much fun....but not in the way you'd expect. It's thoroughly British and thoroughly entertaining and #13 on my list of favourites...What do you think of it?

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

This Post is Not Original

I’m not usually one for the editorials, but I’ve been ruminating over something for the past few weeks. Incidentally, it started with chatter over Christopher Nolan’s upcoming Inception - a film I’m anticipating fairly much, but not as much as everyone else. Nolan’s not my favourite director, but I’m digressing as usual. The write-up on Inception went something along these lines (paraphrased) Thank God for Christopher Nolan, the only director making a movie about a completely original film not inspired by another movie, a book, or comic. I can’t recall the author, but it irritated me a little – but not for the reasons you’d think. After reading more and more articles bemoaning the state of film one think stuck out, and it got me thinking even more – why is everyone so consumed with a desire for originality?
 You probably know that I consider Martin Scorsese to be the supreme filmmaker. I consider his The Age of Innocence as one his greatest films, but even if I were to move away from him and think about some other greats I’d think of people like Anthony Minghella, David Lean and particularly James Ivory. Each of these men, Ivory in particularly, crafted a career on auspicious adaptations of literary pieces. I guess we wouldn’t exactly call them “original” directors, but since when has the opposite of original been poor? Does it mean that if James Ivory was a prevailing director in this time he’d be relegated to an unoriginal hack? Perhaps it’s just my propensity for the literary, but even if we don’t like Howards End, or The Talented Mr. Ripley or Dr. Zhivago can we deny that Ivory, Minghella and Lean are talented men?
It’s not that I can’t sympathise with the movie lovers craving originality. When every moderately successful film gets a sequel, and when perfectly functioning franchises become rebooted, I suppose the yearning for something new is only natural. But is Woody Allen better than Francis Ford Coppola because he writes his work from scratch. Truth be told, I do prefer Allen – but not for that reason. Originality isn’t a prerequisite to brilliance. In a way, I should note James for precipitating this article a little. He’s always throwing out interesting questions, and his reflections on Tim Burton’s career were thought provoking. The man has his issues, I’d be the first to admit, but does the fact that his films over the last decade have been adapted from other source materials mean he is a deplorable director? Maybe, just maybe, I have a kneejerk reaction to people already lapping up Inception…but with Leonardo Dicaprio and Marion Cotillard – trust me – I don’t want this movie to fail. But can we praise Nolan without doing it at the expense of the entire film world? There’s a line between adaptation and unoriginality…a fine line, perhaps, but still a line…

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

20 Word Film Blog-a-thon

Owing to The Kid, I've got to now tell you why I love the cinema...but in 20 words. Yikes! So, here goes....clicking on the links would probably clear up any confusion....
            

Why DO I Love the Cinema?

Katey, Marty, George.
Rebels: Old and New
Merchant Ivory Schlegel Sisters
Musicalscomedies Woody to Judy.
Ingénues and veterans
...Love & War
             
No it's not a coherent paragraph, God knows, I couldn't manage that in twenty words...by order of The Kid - get bloggin'!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

1993: Beautiful Periods

Martin Scorsese is my favourite director so it’s no surprise that he makes quite a number of appearances on my list of 100 favourite films. People love Scorsese...even his films that don’t get all the love [King of Comedy, Mean Streets, Casino] are still widely loved...expect for this. I could be wrong. Maybe there are people out there who love this...but I’ve never met them. I think this is Scorsese’s most underrated film. It is not ostensibly about deception, anguish or war as Good Fellas, The Departed or Raging Bull. But The Age of Innocence is as profound as Scorsese’s other works. The story is adapted from Edith Wharton's novel of the same name. It tells the story of a Newland Archer, a wealthy New York Bachelor. He is engaged to May Whitfield – a pretty, rich and dim young lady who seems infatuated with Newland. Newland is ready to set down and all seems to be going well until the appearance of May’s cousin – Countess Olenska. Olenska is European and divorcing her husband – scandalous in New York. May encourages Newland to befriend Olenska – she a social pariah...and their friendship becomes something more...
I wasn’t around in the days when the phrase Merchant Ivory signified brilliance but I’m still appreciative of the great work they’ve done in adapting classic literature to classic film. Few have done it as excellently as they have. The Remains of the Day was their final juggernaut that triumphed with Oscar – and yet the film won none of the eight Oscars it was nominated – a pity really. Something The Remains of the Days shares The Age of Innocence is a relationship between two protagonists that doesn’t go too far; in some ways I suppose it’s even going far to call the relationship between Stevens and Miss Kenton a romantic one. But it is. Isn’t it? And like Scorsese’s flick The Remains of the Day is concerned with changing social norms.Stevens has a definitive connection to his home and it’s a bit tragic to watch as it’s auctioned off, bit by bit.
The Age of Innocence is a beautiful period piece...but above all else, it is an actors’ flick. Michelle Pfeiffer, Daniel Day Lewis and Winona Ryder give outstanding performances as the three leads. If I ruled the world Daniel Day Lewis would have won a second Oscar for either this or In the Name of the Father and Michelle Pfeiffer would have also been on the receiving end of a nomination and battling it out with Emma Thompson for the win. I always marvel at how these performances were ignored. Winona Ryder was the lone cast member to make it to the Oscar race. On first viewing I was smitten with the performance. It does not hold up as well, but it is still a good performance. It’s a difficult character. Is May really that bland or is it Winona’s characterisation? It’s a tough call...but I think that May is just an unremarkable young lady. But the ending of the film makes you reassess everything that you thought earlier. Is May in fact the least honest character in The Age of Innocence? It doesn’t seem outlandish to assume that perhaps May knew of Newland’s attraction to Ellen throughout, and that one assumption makes her character so much fuller. May just may be the most artful wife. It’s a typically Scorsese turn – even if the inclination is provided by Wharton.
And speaking of endings, who can forget the lovely departure Emma Thompson makes in The Remains of the Day. My allegiances do lie with that other Thompson/Hopkins/Merchant Ivory flick. But even I won’t deny that Emma and Anthony are quite excellent here. The Remains of the Day is Anthony’s story completely and nothing he has done before or since feels as profound, real and iconic as his Stevens. It’s a wondrous thing to watch him as he shields his emotion. In some ways his Stevens seems to be the perfect companion to Helen Mirren’s Mrs. Wilson. The two would have existed in perfect cohesion. The film is all Anthony’s, but this never prevents Emma from making her mark – and with so little time. Pragmatic and yet attractive Emma is excellent throughout, but it’s here tears at the end of the film that always get to me. Such skill.
             
I know everybody was going crazy in 1993 about Schindler’s List and The Piano – two great films. But my three favourites of that year were The Remains of the Day, In the Name of the Father, The Age of Innocence. Their ranking changes from year to year but these three films had the most profound impact on me – for different reasons. I already spoke of In the Name of the Father; The Age of Innocence appears at #47 on my list of favourites and The Remains of the Day at #33. Which do you prefer?

Thursday, March 25, 2010

A Walk in the Grass

So it's been solved, my banner is from Howards End...a movie that I adore. Every time I watch I see something new, and it's only now I realised how much Ivory uses nature to bring out his characters. Howards End features one of the most beauteous openings I can recall as Ms. Redgrave saunters through the grass looking resplendent as ever. Isn't she lovely?
       
What shots do you recall from Howards End?
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