Most Helpful Customer Reviews
|
|
46 of 48 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Beautiful, Powerful, Heart-Rending, Delicate, Deft!, September 29, 2002
Terence Rattigan's screenplay for "The Browning Version" expands and greatly improves his short stage play of the same name. The title refers to a translation by the poet, Robert Browning, of "Agamemnon," a classical Greek tragedy. The film's protagonist, Andrew Crocker-Harris, an English private school teacher brilliantly played by Michael Redgrave, once wrote a translation of "Agamemnon," and has been trying for years to teach 14-year-old boys to read the Greek original. Because of poor health and general dissatisfaction with his performance, he has resigned his position. In the tragedy, Agamemnon is murdered by his wife, aided by her lover. In the film, Crocker-Harris is spiritually dead, partly from spousal "murder," although the slaughter has been reciprocal, and his wife, Millie, is in worse shape than he. In tragedies, the hero starts out happy and becomes miserable. In this film, full of the sadness of professional and domestic failure, Crocker-Harris moves away from misery, via understanding and heartfelt repentance, to the possibility of happiness. The reversal owes much to the intervention of Taplow, one of Crocker-Harris' students, and of Frank Hunter, his colleague and Millie's lover. The film deftly introduces these "good Samaritans" in a lively dispute, in which they display the personal qualities that will make them helpful to Crocker-Harris. Both are spirited, bold, good-natured, intelligent and well-rounded. An interesting question is why they come to the rescue of Crocker-Harris and not of his wife. Her coarse brutality toward Crocker-Harris is hard to forgive, but so is his refined humiliation of students. At the outset, two huge defeats, heart disease and forced resignation, invite our compassion for him. His language, beautifully dressed, raised in pitch but never in volume, quiet, clear, restrained, invites attention and leaves room for helpers. Following Taplow's lead, we start the film wondering what is wrong, and hoping to fix it. But most important, Taplow and Hunter appreciate this man, who is really dying to be liked. They like him, and they don't like Millie. My only criticism of the screenplay is the audience response, at a school assembly, to Crocker-Harris' farewell speech. The reaction is not realistic, I think, given the school's long-established fear and rejection of this man. But it is surely our reaction, after what we have just experienced. At the Cannes Film Festival, Terence Rattigan was awarded Best Screenplay and Michael Redgrave, Best Actor. Emphatically deserved! The film is beautifully directed by Anthony Asquith, with a fine cast, especially Brian Smith as Taplow and Nigel Patrick as Hunter. (This review is based on the VHS edition.)
|
|
|
26 of 27 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Perhaps the finest movie I have ever seen -- a true classic, November 10, 1999
I watched this movie many years ago on PBS simply by chance. I have since acquired my own copy and have watched it many times. The story and characters have remained with me ever since. Michael Redgrave gives a performance that is, quite simply, stunning. Redgrave plays an aging and depressed schoolmaster at an English boarding school who, despite a promising start as a teacher many years before, has now failed as a teacher and as a husband. His wife is a nightmare -- conniving, duplicitous and unfaithful. His tolerance of her maliciousness, and of his own failings, is touchingly played out in one heartrending scene after another. Into this malaise comes a young student who, unlike his fellow students, recognizes the brilliance and potential of the old schoolmaster. When he gives the old man the present of a book of poems by Browning, it reawakens a long lost spirit. If you see no other movie, see this one -- please. You'll never forget it. I never will.
|
|
|
10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Brilliant play, superb interpretation, January 26, 2006
Ill health and a general sense of failure attend the last few days on the job of British boy's school teacher Andrew Crocker-Harris (Michael Redgrave) in 1951's THE BROWNING VERSION.
There's more to it than that, of course. There's an evil and loathsome wife, Millie (Jean Kent,) for Crocker-Harris to disappoint and infuriate. There's a co-worker, played by Nigel Patrick, whose sincere offer of friendship occurs hard on the heels of a gross betrayal. There's a bright young lad, Taplow (Brian Smith,), who may be the `one in a million' student who cancels the quitclaim on failure. And of course there's Aeschylus, the Greek dramatist, whose Agamemnon, translated by Browning, tells the tragic tale of a king poisoned by his wife.
Okay, that's pretty elliptical, but I'm trying to not give anything away, even though I'm not sure the plot twists and resolutions are that terribly important here. THE BROWNING VERSION is driven by character rather than plot - it's the study of a man who began his career with great promise, a Mr. Chips in-waiting, who we meet at a withering juncture near the end of the path. When the movie joins him he's ending a phase, the vital phase, of his professional career, and his last few days are filled with culminating embarrassments and humiliations.
Ceding the material its due, and it's due a lot, THE BROWNING VERSION begins and ends for me with Redgrave's restrained performance. Crocker-Harris does not jump off the page as a terribly appealing character, and there's any number of ways an actor could botch it. Redgrave gets under the skin, though, and finds the universal in this distant and aloof character.
This being a Criterion release there are, of course, extras. There's an eight-minute archival interview with Redgrave from the late `50s. Also included is an interview with director Mike Figgis, who speaks about the '51 original and also about his 1994 remake with Albert Finney. I have to admit I somewhat dread watching the remake, although Finney is a fine actor and Figgis seems sensitive to the material. What worries me is Figgis use of the term `open up' - as in `open up' Terence Rattigan's one-act play even more than the original did. Granted, the '51 version at times feels a little enclosed, but never stagy. In fact, the `closed' feeling, along with the older acting style Figgis mentions, give the movie an intimacy that a broader approach might destroy. At times Redgrave may feel a little precise, but he's playing an introverted character. This is a piece that is supposed to whisper and insinuate. We are meant to be drawn into Crocker-Harris's despair, not observe him from a shouting distance. Not having seen Figgis's version I can't, shouldn't, comment or complain about it, but the '51 version, directed by Anthony Asquith, is to my mind an ideal presentation. I can't believe this one can be improved upon.
The audio commentary is provided by film historian Bruce Eder, who does an admirable job of acquainting us with Rattigan, Asquith, and Redgrave. Like most scholarly commentaries he points out the significance of events that one misses the first time through a movie. Unfairly, very unfairly, I did find myself wishing he'd shut up, though. Not because he was droning on or anything, but because I played the commentary during my second run through the movie and I wanted to hear what the actors were saying. That doesn't happen to me often while watching with commentary track, and when it does it's usually a testament to the film being commented upon. A wonderful movie, with a sterling, unforgettable performance by Michael Redgrave.
|
|
|
Most Recent Customer Reviews
|