013 Adaptation – Old
David Tennant narrated a series of three dramas based on the
works of Sir Walter Scott. While I enjoyed
them all, I think my favorite was Waverley,
adapted by Mike Harris. Waverley
(Rupert Evans), an English soldier in the 1740s, is sent up to Scotland in
advance of rumors of Bonnie Prince Charlie arriving and fomenting
rebellion. He is despised by his
superior officer, Colonel Gardiner, as a traitor-in-the-making (Waverley’s
uncle was involved in a previous rebellion).
Waverley vows to show his loyalty, but it’s a very tricky situation
given he’s been asked to spy on distant relations (who are evidently
pro-Union). With his relations, Waverley
is much taken by Flora (Alice Mackenzie), his host’s sister, and confused by
his host’s betrothed, Rose (Olivia Morgan), who is bound to the family even
though they murdered her family.
Waverley escapes death several times, not realizing that he is being
drawn into the conflict. I enjoyed David
Tennant’s narration in all three of these plays, though I somewhat wish he had
been given another role, for variety’s sake. Originally from 2013, this play
also starred Christian Rodska, Forbes Massey, Mark Bonnar, Joe McFadden, and
Robert Hudson. It was directed by Clive
Brill.
I found South Riding very
difficult at first. It was very long (5
x 3 episodes = 3 ¾ hours!). I’m glad
that I ultimately stuck with it, as Winifred Holtby’s sentiments, evidently
expressed through Sarah Burton, were cheering, egalitarian, feminist outlooks
that made me feel a little bit better about teaching (i.e. that it’s not
hopeless). At the beginning, however, I
couldn’t really understand what it was all tending toward. Sarah Burton, originally from a small area in
Yorkshire, has returned to her hometown after having spent time in London. Played with great verve and emotion by Sarah
Lancashire, Sarah is enlightened and energetic.
She wins the role of headmistress of a girls’ school after having been
interviewed by the governors, including the strong-willed Mrs Beddows and the
haughty gentleman farmer, Robert Carne (Philip Glenister). Although Carne was significantly younger than
Mrs Beddows (Carole Boyd), the first section gave the impression they were
having a relationship (though the exact nature of which was uncertain). I therefore couldn’t understand if we the
audience were being positioned to expect Sarah to supplant Mrs Beddows as
Carne’s love interest, and if not, why include Carne so prominently? It all became much clearer in the second and
third series. At the school, despite her
redoubtable energy, Sarah has to deal with some very close-minded, banal staff
members and especially fight against poverty and tradition. She has great plans for her working class
student Lydia, who has impressive talent and drive but is being smothered from
her studies by her obligations to her family.
I have to say, South Riding
in many ways resembles the three greatest novels of the north of England (in my
opinion), North and South (as
regards the relationship between Sarah and Carne, which has parallels with
Margaret and John), Wuthering Heights
and Jane Eyre (for its evocation of
the landscape and people of Yorkshire as well as the tragedy of Carne’s “mad”
wife). By the end, I found it very moving. Philip Glenister was also very effective as
Carne; BBC Radio’s loss is television’s gain. Originally from 1999, it was
adapted by Gill Adams, directed by Melanie Harris, and also starred Susan
Cookson, Maggie Tagney, Donald McBride, Lucy Beaumont, Annmarie Hosell, and
Maya Foa.
Headlong Hall was
also a very, very slow burn. During the
first hour, I was wondering why James Saunders had bothered to adapt this
ponderous novel by Thomas Love Peacock in the first place. After awhile, however, it turned a corner and
became quite funny. Basically, it is the
story of a Welsh squire who wishes to be an intellectual. To that effect, he invites a series of
philosophers, thinkers, artists, and critics from London to stay at Headlong
Hall for Christmas, bringing with them daughters and sisters. The moment where it really showed its
potential was the narrator rewinding a scene so that he could explain why
exactly it sounded like someone was falling off an exploding tower into the
river. That was very meta and reminded
me of Tristram Shandy—very ahead of
its time. Also, the scene in which one
of the characters has a long conversation with a Welsh sexton was very, very
funny. Headlong Hall is obviously a satire, and ends with four weddings in
which the women, for the most part, not being consulted about whether they want
to be married, just getting married for the heck of it. It was a funny but silly production with a
lot of music and actors. The actors,
indeed, included Michael Hordern, Daniel Massey, Ronald Lacey, John Grillo,
John Horsley, William Simons, Andrew Branch, Alan Dudley, Simon Cudd, Richard
Tate, Michael Deacon, Norman Bird, Holly James, Joan Walker, and Caroline
Gruber. Matthew Walters directed Headlong Hall in 1988.
Meanwhile, I was very surprised by the adaptation of She by H. Rider-Haggard by no less a
talent than Hattie Naylor. I had no idea what to expect from this novel. Tim McInnerny was, as usual, compelling, this
time as Mr Holly, a very ugly man who inherits young Leo from a good friend who
drops dead. When Leo (Oliver Chris) is
twenty-five, he finds out about his (unusual to say the least) lineage. He is apparently descended from a Greek
priest, Killikrates, and an Egyptian woman, Amenartes, who strayed into the
kingdom of Ayesha (Mia Soteriou), the immortal white queen of an ancient civilization. Leo’s destiny is to kill the queen, as she
caused Killikrates’ death, and caused untold suffering to Amenartes and also
many other generations of people. Leo
accepts, taking Holly and the Sam Gamgee-like servant, Job. In Africa, they are captured by the Amarhagger
people, led by Billali (Ben Onwukwe).
Adventure ensues. I suspect some
“cleaning up” of an undoubtedly racist narrative has been done; when Holly
reflects with horror that Ayesha wants to rule England with Leo, deposing Queen
Victoria, he can’t see the imperialist/gender irony, but the audience can. Good performances, particularly from Howard
Coggins as the loveable Job, as well as a haunting score, combine with a
narrative that sweeps you helplessly along.
Originally from 2006, it was directed by Sara Davies.
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