Brideshead – Relived
So, yet again, back in the day (ie. the early 80s) there was a seminal event on British TV called “Brideshead Revisited”. Seminal not only for it’s stunning narrative by Evelyn Waugh but seminal for it’s stunning production. Especially amazing as it was produced not by the venerable BBC but by that outcast of British broadcasting, “independent television”.
Recently, a feature film staring our beloved Emma made the rounds. Not a Summer block buster but a resounding success with those of us who long for that England lost. The movie did an admirable albeit abridged job of telling the story. However, tonight I went back and watched the original, 4×3′d, badly telecinied, showing age of it’s lineage.. There is a magic there that didn’t transfer to Cinemascope.
In the modern production, lost are the frailties of 1930′s society.. The subtle implications are tombstones which are more concerned with pace. The enchanting voice-over that graces the original is gone, only to be replaced by more graphic visuals that not only lose the intent of the original but trash the elegance of that so often awkward language used in its most mesmerizing of forms. Yesteryear was enchanted by Guilgud who lifted the mundane into the amazing with wit and seduction. How the Ryder’s ever seemed so human is a tribute to his skill and subtlety. Ever lost.
Trappings of transatlantic steam ships are gone. Preceded with the stark boring reality of the nether regions of the war. Ryder, a jaded downtrodden army officer, plucked from his tedium when he realizes that his company has taken up Brideshead as it’s barracks. From there the story unfolds like crisp linens on a warm Summer picnic table. Heavenly, intoxicating, troubling and provocative. Sebastian is almost an afterthought. He conducts the orchestra telling the story almost as if he isn’t the focus of the tale.
To watch “Brideshead” and to love it is to give yourself to a dream of a country proclaimed by its history as a bastion of morales and honor. Not really a role that old England ever played or deserved, however one that it cornered the market on and built the dream of so well.
Brideshead is a vision of an England I miss. One I never knew and one that barely existed for a chosen few who never realized what gems they held.
