Pride and Prejudice (1995)

Director: Simon Langton                               Writers: Andrew Davies & Jane Austin
Film Score: Carl Davis                                  Cinematography: John Kenway
Starring: Jennifer Ehle, Colin Firth, Benjamin Whitrow and Alison Steadman

Back in the late eighties, the A&E network actually lived up to its name, delivering artistic films and entertaining television shows that couldn’t be seen anywhere else, even on PBS. In fact, A&E had a relationship with the BBC at the time and it showed a lot of their content that PBS either didn’t have the time or the money to be able to air. So it makes sense that they would eventually combine to produce new content for both of their networks. That’s how Pride and Prejudice was born. For many people this is the definitive screen version of Jane Austen’s classic novel for the simple reason that, in being able to film six fifty-minute episodes, it is so complete. Despite impressive, and successful, attempts to adapt the story for feature films, those adaptations necessarily leave much of the original novel out which results not only in a slightly different story but a much quicker pace. The one aspect of this mini-series that is so unique is that the slowed down pacing gives a real sense of the time period, with character sitting around and the camera content to linger on them as they walk or talk, or play cards or read a book, and allows the relationships to develop more naturally. The story is able to unfold in essentially the way that Austen intended it and for fans of the novel--as distinct from simply fans of the story--nothing else is going to come close.

The story begins in the home of the Bennett family. Patriarch Benjamin Whitrow and his wife, Alison Steadman, are in the unfortunate circumstance of having five daughters and no sons, which means Whitrow’s estate will pass on to a cousin on his death and his wife and daughters will inherit nothing. Wealthy gentleman Crispin Bonham-Carter has recently rented a nearby estate and his friend Colin Firth is visiting. It’s during a local ball that Bonham-Carter falls in love with the eldest of the Bennet girls, Susannah Harker, and where Firth takes an instant dislike to her younger sister, Jennifer Ehle, who feels the same way about Firth. The rest of the story is a wonderful series of misunderstandings that prefigure the kind of romantic comedy tropes popular today. Ehle hears reports from unreliable sources, mainly Adrian Lukis, confirming her bad opinion of Firth. And when the two are together she can’t help but mock his serious, disapproving, and aristocratic manner. His pride at being a noble, combined with her prejudice in believing she knows everything about him, serves to keep them apart for most of the story. Meanwhile, Steadman is doing everything in her power to get her daughters married off, with both comic and tragic results. But, as always happens at in Austen’s novels, everything comes out as it should in the end.

The driving force behind the project was Sue Birtwistle, who wanted to do a more modernized spin on the story while staying true to Austen’s words and story. To do this she hired Andrew Davies, who has made a career of adapting classic works for the screen. This was his first Austen adaptation and it shows the kind of touch that he would add to all the author’s works that he would turn into screenplays, trying to convey the real sexual tension beneath the mannered behaviors of the early nineteenth-century world of England. And to top it all off, the great Carl Davis--who had unsuccessfully been working on a ballet of the novel for years--made himself available to score the project and did a tremendous job of enlivening the story for modern audiences emulating the most popular music of the day, namely Mozart. Jennifer Ehle is an interesting choice to play Elizabeth Bennett, as she had only done television work for a couple of years prior to this, but that anonymous quality works well. Colin Firth already had a successful film career, but this was the first of the kind of historical dramas that he would become known for. The rest of the cast, while not quite up to Hollywood standards, does a very convincing job and are quite enjoyable overall, especially the dry witted Benjamin Whitrow. For all of these reasons, this BBC and A&E co-production of Pride and Prejudice remains one of the best versions of the classic Jane Austen novel ever produced.

Persuasion (1995)

Director: Roger Michell                                  Writer: Nick Dear
Film Score: Jeremy Sams                              Cinematography: John Daly
Starring: Amanda Root, Ciarán Hinds, John Woodvine and Susan Fleetwood

There’s almost nothing to choose from in British productions of Jane Austen novels. In this case the production is by BBC television, but it is arguably the best adaptation of Persuasion whether on television or theatrical release. It was actress Amanda Root debut performance, and it’s a good one. The film was shot chronologically, allowing Root the luxury of her emotional arc as a character following the natural progression of the plot. If there’s a downside to the television production it’s the claustrophobia of the sets due to the lack of money. The initial scenes in the country come out fine and there’s a sense of the openness of the early nineteenth-century English countryside. But once in towns like Bath and Lyme, the film is suddenly confined to very tight and specific locations that actually give a sense of the limitations allowed for television versus a theatrical release. This is ironic, considering that the BBC actually partnered with Public Television station WGBH in Boston in order to finance the filming in Bath and Lyme. That said, however, the story itself and the production design are excellent, which genuinely attempted to replicate the period, from the lived-in look of the clothing to the lower standards of hygiene. Similarly impressive is the solid direction by Roger Michell, who would go on to film Notting Hill a few years later. Nick Dear adapted Austen’s novel for the screenplay, electing to leave out the interior thoughts of Root’s character and have her convey those emotions visually.

Amanda Root plays the Austen heroine Anne Elliot, the oldest daughter of British noble Corin Redgrave who has lost his wife and has spent all of his fortune. His dire financial circumstances have forced him to vacation in Bath so that he can rent his estate to navy admiral John Woodvine who he finds contemptibly beneath him in station. And yet Redgrave is quite demonstrably an ass, who ignores the creditors at his door and indulges his equally snooty oldest daughter Phoebe Nicholls as much as he neglects his younger daughter, Root. After Redgrave and Nicholls head for Bath, leaving Root behind, neighbor Susan Fleetwood reassures Root that she did the right thing in being persuaded to turn down the proposal of a young man who had no fortune several years before, Ciarán Hinds, the brother-in-law of Woodvine. She flees the house to stay with her hypochondriac younger sister, Sophie Thompson, though essentially ignored by everyone else, dismissed as being only fit to become an old maid. So when Hinds comes to visit his sister, Fiona Shaw, and her husband Woodvine, he is immediately accosted by all the eligible young girls in the village while simultaneously ignoring Root in the process. It’s not until a trip to Lyme, to see one of Hinds’ friends, that Hinds begins to really notice her again. At the same time Redgrave’s cousin, Samuel West, accidentally sees Root and becomes quite smitten with her. Unfortunately for West, Root has set her cap on Hinds.

One of the challenges to staging a Jane Austen novel is to cast a woman in the lead who is beautiful but can be made to look frumpy, and Amanda Root certainly fits the bill perfectly. By the same token, the lead male must be handsome but stoic, and Ciarán Hinds is terrific in the role. In fact, all of the actors are remarkably good, from the wicked step-sister-like Phoebe Nicholls and her cluelessly desperate father Corin Redgrave, to the early mother substitute Susan Fleetwood--who tragically died shortly after the production--and what would become Root’s role model in Woodvine’s wife, the lovely Fiona Shaw. The story is an interesting one, though seemingly not as intricate as her more popular works. There is less intrigue and emotional upheaval as the plot simply centers on Root’s character as she tries to figure out how to convey to her former suitor that she made a mistake and wishes him to reconsider--without being able to say a word of it to him directly. Nevertheless, the ending is as satisfying as all of Austen’s novels, even if the getting there is not quite as fun. Screenwriter Nick Dear saw in that distinction that Persuasion was more of an adult novel, necessitating a less animated telling of the story, which did result in significant changes to the underlying themes of Austen’s work. Though shown on television in England, Persuasion was released theatrically in the U.S. and received generally positive reviews. While not the best Austen adaptation overall, it is certainly at the top for this particular work, and a must see for Amanda Root’s performance.

The Beach Boys: An American Family (2000)

Director: Jeff Bleckner                                    Writer: Kirk Ellis
Film Score: Gary Griffin                                  Cinematography: Brian J. Reynolds
Starring: Frederick Weller, Matt Letscher, Nick Stabile and Kevin Dunn

This ABC miniseries about the genesis of The Beach Boys is surprisingly one-dimensional, and yet it still manages to hold interest, which is probably more a function of the actors than anything intrinsic in the writing or direction. In fact, Brian Wilson, who was a consultant on the film and helped in producing the soundtrack, was unhappy with the final product and felt that far too many liberties were taken with his story. Nevertheless, The Beach Boys: An American Family, is worth a peek, just to see what all the fuss is about. Credit for the distortions, which have apparently been going on for decades, have been attributed to Mike Love who has been in court numerous times over the years to avenge his version of the truth over that of Brian’s. One of these happens in the beginning of the film when Mick Stabile as Dennis Wilson steals his dad’s T-Bird and heads to the beach with his surfboard. On the way he stops at a gas station where cousin Mike Love, played by Matt Letscher, closes shop and grabs his board to surf with his pal. From all non-fiction of accounts of the group, however, Dennis was the only one of the boys that ever surfed, and apparently Dennis and Mike never liked each other very much at all. Throughout, Love is portrayed as providing the impetus for getting and keeping the group together, and especially for harnessing Brian Wilson’s talent as well as providing the lyrics for every song that is shown being written in the film.

At the same time Brian is portrayed as a tortured genius who needed guidance, first by his father and then by Love, and the second half of the film that deals with his mental breakdown seems incredibly phony. Dennis is made to look like a disturbed bad boy, immature and unable to control his rebellious streak, and while some of that may be true the aspect of his personality that shows him frightened all the time is certainly false, and again begs the question of whose perspective the story is being told from. Ironically, the character who comes out looking better than he really was--in addition to Love--is the boy’s father, Murray Wilson, played by Kevin Dunn. In the film he is shown as a middle-aged dreamer who wanted to live through the success of his sons, which certainly was the case, but according to the most thorough biography to date, Heroes and Villains by Steven Gaines, he was much more heavy-handed, intrusive, and controlling than in the film. But worse than his domineering personality, the Wilson’s father virtually stole the rights to the group’s music and sold it for a fraction of what it was eventually worth. There’s certainly an element of irony in the subtitle of the film: an American Family. But what there’s no denying is the intrinsic artistry of their songs today, especially the music written by Brian Wilson. And in that regard, there’s little to argue with in looking at the rather juvenile lyrics of Mike Love compared with the transcendent musical vision of Brian Wilson. And no one has ever thought Love had a good singing voice. The film certainly benefits from Wilson’s participation, despite the negative views he had about the film or its artistic failures.

The film itself centers on Frederick Weller as Brian Wilson, who is unfortunately given very little to work with in Kirk Ellis’s screenplay. He comes off as innocent and indecisive, hating nearly every aspect of making music for the group, which just rings false even if you know nothing about the group. But Weller does about as well as anyone could do, especially given the circumstances. Matt Letscher, on the other hand, is riveting as Mike Love. He has the speech patterns down as well as the physical gestures, and his onstage movements are so good it’s eerie. Nick Stabile also does a very nice job as Dennis Wilson, especially in the scenes where he plays the drums. His movements are, again, so precise that it does conjure up the image of the first of the brother’s to die. The rest of the cast, unfortunately, is decidedly average. Ryan Northcott as Carl Wilson is a good actor but the screenplay barely touches on the brother with the angelic voice. The same goes for Ned Vaughn as Al Jardine, while Dublin James as neighbor Dave Marks simply comes off as an idiot. It’s interesting to see Alley Mills as the Wilson’s mother, especially after her iconic role as the mother in the Sixties comedy-drama The Wonder Years. Kevin Dunn as Murray Wilson, however, doesn’t seem to be a very good choice. He does as well as he can, but lacks the underlying menace that can be seen even in pictures of the man from the era. The Beach Boys: An American Family suffers from the same limitations as most TV movies: limited budget and lesser talent. It manages to hold interest, barely, but even the most cursory reading of the history of the band will reveal its weakness as genuine pop music history.

Salem Witch Trials (2002)

Director: Joseph Sargent                                 Writer: Maria Nation
Film Score: Jonathan Goldsmith                      Cinematography: Pierre Gill
Starring: Kirstie Alley, Jay O. Sanders, Rebecca De Mornay and Gloria Reuben

This is an interesting look at one of the signature moments in U.S. History. Produced just a few years after Arthur Miller was able to film The Crucible, his dramatic take on the event, CBS launched their own version as a two-part mini-series based on the historical record. Salem Witch Trials uses some B-list actors along with well-known names like Kirstie Alley, Rebecca De Mornay, and Gloria Reuben, and the venerable Peter Ustinov and Shirley MacLaine in supporting roles to give their story of colonial Massachusetts drawing power with television audiences. The film was written by Maria Nation, who had a strong background in writing for television, and the novelization of the screenplay was done by Kathryn Wesley. One of the smart decisions she makes is to stay away from the story of John Proctor and Abigail Williams, which Miller focused on in his play. Instead she takes as her viewpoint characters of the minister of Salem Village, Samuel Parris, and the much-aggrieved Thomas Putnam, to look at their part in creating and perpetuating the fear of witchcraft to further their own personal goals, through their implicit control over the girls--both of them had daughters--who cried out members of the community as followers of Satan.

Part One of the mini-series begins in Salem Village in 1692 in the middle of the delusion, with children crying out in church and naming members of the church as witches. They are led by Katie Boland as the daughter of the Putnams, a wealthy family who had very little land. The narrative then flashes back ten months to a night time fire that burns down the barn of one of the villagers, and the stillborn death of Mrs. Putnam’s child. Kirstie Alley plays Mrs. Putnam and Jay O. Sanders her husband. While Alley becomes more and more convinced that the Devil is responsible for this, the third of her children lost, Sanders is intent on using this belief to rid the village of some of his enemies and get their land in the process. Meanwhile Boland falls increasingly under the sway of the religious fervor exhibited by the town’s minister, Henry Czerny. When Alley gets no satisfaction from Czerny as to the reason her babies are dying, she seeks the comfort of the village witch, Shannon Lawson. But Boland is watching. And when Boland sees the affection her father gives to their dog, she begins barking like one herself. In meantime Sanders’ step-brother Zachary Bennett, who owns most of the Putnam land, has decided to marry the daughter of Sanders’ enemy, Colin Fox, who has thrived as the owner of the port while Sanders has only seen his role in Salem diminish. It’s then that Sanders demands that Czerny use his power of the pulpit to pay him back for hiring him.

Part Two opens on the prison, with Tituba and three other women who have been arrested. Tituba, on pain of a personal death threat by Parris, confessed in open court--still the church sanctuary at that point. The problem is, the church has no legal authority to arrest the women. It’s not until a new royal governor is appointed that judge Peter Ustinov is mandated with overseeing the prosecution and hangings of the accused. In addition to the girls, who were either deluded by their religious training or in the thrall of a toxin, according to scientist Lindda Caporael in a PBS documentary The Witches Curse, Kirstie Alley as Anne Putnam, as well as Kristin Booth, both exhibit psychotic behavior, and men in the village have erotic hallucinations that convinced them they are being bewitched. It’s not until Shirley MacLaine as Rebecca Nurse, one of the stalwarts of the village, is condemned that those in jail realize they have no chance at all of being saved other than their own false confessions . . . a lie that Puritans have been trained not to give. One of the best moments of the film is when the Kristin Booth confronts Henry Czerny with the truth: that as minister of Salem and the head of the witch-hunts, he is the most evil man in Salem Village.

There is no way for the series to avoid comparisons with The Crucible, and in most respects it comes up short. The most obvious of the differences is in the production design. Where the earlier film had very believable sets and costume design, specifically in the unavoidable dirtiness they lived in, the TV movie comes off as too clean and modern, especially Gloria Reuben who looks as if she’s in a photo shoot most of the time. The acting also lags behind the feature, though the principals are certainly watchable. The girls in this one are actually the best part of the film, especially Katie Boland and Cara Pifko, though the latter gets precious little screen time. The technical aspects of the film, however, are one of the bright spots. The opening sequence uses special effects to turn the women accused of witchcraft into real witches. And the sound design is also quite good, focusing the audience on the heightened sense of hearing that Katie Boland has when going into her delusions. Finally, cinematographer Pierre Gill brings some interesting camerawork to the production. The major flaw of the film is the lack of a dramatic narrative from Maria Nation. She wanted to stick to the historical facts and where she could have made genuine villains out of Parris and Putnam, she refused, making Arthur Miller’s handling of the material all the more impressive. Salem Witch Trials is a bit overlong, but interesting primarily for those who are familiar with the story. For those still looking for an introduction, stick to The Crucible.