glen922
In addition to describing the progression of my regard for this film as I watched it, these are the names of the last three chapters of the book, a book which, as usual (with Dickens adaptations), the writers of this film had not read - or at least had not read recently enough.Most of the performances were fine. Alec Guinness was spot on, and the little woman playing Amy was perfect. At first I hated the Fanny performance - and then I remembered that I hated Fanny, so she was also perfect. Arthur could have been played with a little more enthusiasm, and without all the whispering. The actor playing Tip likely never went far. But all in all, the acting was acceptable.Where this film failed, and failed completely, was in the telling of the story: in the writing, directing and editing. First, of course, was the ludicrous vertical splitting of the film into two character-centric/perspective parts to be presented sequentially. This was a horrible idea on every conceivable level, but most importantly, it resulted in the disconnection of important elements of Arthur's story and Amy's story, that must play upon one another in order to build the drama and advance the story. These connections being brutally severed, the story and all of its intensity were lost.If that were not enough, there was so much more ill-advised meddling on the part of the writer and director, that it alone would have ruined the film - at least for readers. Anyone who has read even the cheat notes for Little Dorrit must have wondered and been dismayed at the absence of numerous important characters. Most notably, they must have asked, 'where is Rigaud?' This story can't be told without Rigaud! It is through this colorful and evil character, "with his nose coming down over his mustache, and his mustache going up under his nose," who is blackmailing Mrs Clennam, with the help of Flintwich, that Mrs. Clennam's secret is revealed, and his involvement is essential to the building suspense surrounding this secret - of which suspense, as a consequence of Rigaud's absence, there was not a trace in this film. And since there is no Rigaud it follows, perhaps, that there would be no Cavalleto, another uniquely Dickensian character who was sorely missed. Rigaud is also an important evil element among the Dorrits abroad, where he teams up with the dissipated Henry Gowan - who is also, sadly, never seen again in this film after he marries Pet.So little is made of the Meagles family, a major omission in itself, that I suppose it is no surprise that there is no Tattycoram, and since there is no Tatty, there is no Mrs. Wade: more great losses for the audience, since their highly charged and emotional subplot helps to define and humanize the characters of the Meagles family and of Arthur. Mrs. Wade of course also plays an important part in the Rigaud - Flintwich - Mrs. Clennam story.The Murdles are so overlooked in this telling, that one may wonder, when Mr Murdle shows up at Fanny and Sparkler's apartment to ask for a pen knife (with which he later commits suicide), who he is and where he came from at that point. Among other hard-felt losses stemming from this neglect, is the missed opportunity to engage in some of the fun that best exemplifies Dickens' sense of humour and satire. The parties at the Murdles, with all of the sycophants that are named only by their professions (Bar, Physician, Clergy etc.), and the head butler that terrorizes the great Mr. Murdle. All gone!Since there was no developing Rigaud blackmail subplot, readers knew well in advance that the end of the film would have to be substantially re-organized, and that it would be awful; and it was. Dickens version of the story behind Mrs. Clennam's secret is, of course, quite complex, but certainly worth accurately telling, since it is the motivation for the entire plot! But no! Now we are expected to accept the story that there is money in the house that Frederick had sent for Amy, and that Mrs. Clennam had held back? How absurd! Frederick has been in contact with Amy her whole life; so if he had money for Amy, he would have just given it to her. Of course the real story was this: Old Mrs. Clennam's father had forced her and Arthur's father into marriage, when Arthur's father was actually in love with another woman (Arthur's real mother, who lived with and was provided for by Frederick), an affair that when discovered by Mrs. Clennam, sent her into an old testament rage, in which she took the baby (Arthur)to raise and drove his real mother into an insane asylum and eventually into her grave. When Mrs. Clennam's father died, he felt remorse for what he had done, and left part of his estate to Arthurs real mother, or, if she was not living, to the youngest female kin (Amy!) of the real mother's caretaker (Frederick!). Yes, complicated, but not if it's told right.As much as this film was brutalized and its audience cheated by the cruel omissions and alterations in this story, which I have only highlighted here; it must also be noted that by dint of scandalously flawed directing and editing, what remained of the story managed to drag on miserably, with inordinately long pauses between lines, painfully slow pans to make small points,and long, lingering scenes in which nothing actually occurs.My recommendation: do not waste six hours watching this. In that much time you could be well into reading the actual book, which is terrific. Get the Penguin Classics version - it has all the original illustrations, wonderful, informative extras including very well done end notes. Will no one ever properly adapt a Dickens novel to film?
billsroots
A great novel, and a great movie. BUT! A few observations...I understand that the novel is very complex, that the plot turns in a number of layers, and that the film is already of great length. However I think it is seriously lacking to omit rather major elements and characters, such as the villain Blandois upon whom much of the plot turns. And I was disappointed as well to see Tattycoram (which would be such a delightful part for any actress!) left out. But these things aside, it is still a favourite movie which I've watched (on VHS) many times. The colourful characters are marvelously Dickensian as portrayed by the cast, most notably Guinness, Greenwood, Max Wall, Roshan Seth, and Jacobi. Has Sarah Pickering appeared in anything else? She was convincing in her character too. Though seventeen years old now, the film continues to delight and entertain, but I sure miss Blandois and Tattycoram!
jandesimpson
BBC Radio 3 puts out a fascinating programme each week entitled "Building a Library" in which CDs of classical works are compared and evaluated culminating with a "best buy" recommendation. This would hardly be possible with works of cinema where very rarely are there more than two versions, the first invariably the winner as a movie can only be that good to tempt a remake. I suppose one could do a "Building a Library" with "Hamlet" but I wouldn't be in a position to take that on as I only know two versions (Olivier and Branagh) really well. How about a collective "Building a Library" - film versions of Dickens, say, - now that would be a real challenge. Here goes! I won't deal with all as that would take up too much user comment space. Just a few for good measure. Remember Noel Langley's "Pickwick Papers" of 1952 - great fun with a host of good cameo parts from people such as Joyce Grenfell, Hermione Baddeley, Donald Wolfit, Harry Fowler and others but all rather lightweight compared with the rest I have chosen. Earlier still was Cavalcanti's version of "Nicholas Nickleby" for Ealing, some good sets and the scene where wicked Uncle Ralph gets his desserts wonderfully atmospheric, but so much to cram into a film of moderate feature length that scenes scarcely have time to breathe. Although a good try it all seems too rushed. The oddball in this little collection is undoubtedly a 1988 Portugese version of "Hard Times" set in modern day Lisbon by Joao Botelho, well worth seeing as a curiosity but hardly to be compared with my remaining four choices, each very special in its own right. I would have to include one TV version in my shortlist as the BBC generally do their classic serials so well and were on superlative form with their 1999 "David Copperfield", even capping George Cukor's richly entertaining 1935 film. (Just occasionally a more recent version is better!) The reason I admire the BBC version so much is the wonderful casting with Maggie Smith, Pauline Quirke and Nicholas Lyndhurst playing roles they were just born for. There is even a diminutive Harry Potter playing young David most affectingly. It is probably the Dickens adaptation that moves me the most though I suppose it has to be eclipsed by the three that have that greater degree of cinematic imagination. These are the marvellous David Lean '40s adaptations of "Great Expectations" and "Oliver Twist" and most recently Christine Edzard's "Little Dorrit". For a long time "Oliver Twist" was my favourite of the Lean pair, oodles of atmosphere, wonderful art direction and camera-work and a rooftop climax to take the breath away, but I suppose "Great Expectations" has it for libretto, late as opposed to early Dickens and Lean an ever faithful interpreter of the novel's range and subtleties. Without Christine Edzard's "Little Dorrit" it would be the winner. Her remarkable independent production for length alone (two films totalling six hours) dwarfs all contenders. She cleverly tells the same story from the different perspective of the two main protagonists, Arthur Clennem and Amy Dorrit, this "Rashomon" like approach dominating the first half of each film. The pace is leisurely but always purposeful - none of those irritating longueurs of characters taking up time to cross a street or room that bedevil so many TV adaptations. Street scenes in particular have an amazing sense of realism with hoards of people bustling along giving the feeling of just how busy Victorian London must have been, the credit sequence of Part I wonderfully effective in depicting this. We sense from this very opening the loving care with which every background detail of Dickens's vast fresco of society will be unfolded. As in the novel everything revolves around the theme of money and the misery that both possession as well as dispossession can bring. The casting is faultless with marvellous swansongs from Joan Greenwood and Max Wall and Alec Guinness possibly at his finest as William Dorrit, a superb portrayal of a shallow man with delusions of grandeur. Throughout Edzard is at pains to eschew anything that smacks of pathetic fallacy by not over dramatising atmosphere, but the film never looks plain. Although most of the exteriors are studio constructed the interiors have an extraordinary sense of authenticity down to the last detail. Everything looks and sounds exactly right such as the shabby wallpaper of a livingroom in the Marshalsea with at one point the seemingly endless buzzing of a solitary fly. Unlike the Lean films this is one that seems constructed out of everyday incidents rather than great dramatic setpieces. It is not a film that moves and excites as much while one is watching it, until, that is, the final half hour. When it reaches the tragedy of William Dorrit's mental confusion at a society banquet followed by the terrible scene leading up to the suicide of Merdle where he visits his son and daughter-in-law to borrow a knife we have the realisation that to search for an adaptation that more perfectly realises Dickens's intentions would be an impossibility.
