DVD/150: THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST (Anthony Asquith, 1952)

Anthony Asquith's sparkling adaptation of Oscar Wilde's THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST is 70 next year - an ageless film of an ageless play.

Asquith's screenplay captures the essence of Wilde, his direction creates a perfect 'High Comedy' world for the dazzling firework display of his cast of actors.

They act without any camp condescention; they enter the reality of Wilde's world and deliver definitive performances of their characters.

The film is dominated by Edith Evans' Lady Bracknell, and while her "A handbaaaaaaag?" line has haunted every Lady Bracknell since, she plays the role with such nuance that she makes all her lines memorable.

Michael Redgrave is perfect as Ernest/Jack while Michael Dennison is a revelation as the facile Algernon.

Margaret Rutherford and Miles Malleson shine as Miss Prism and Canon Chasuble.

Newcomer Dorothy Tutin is delectable as Cecily but outshining them all, Joan Greenwood's delicious Gwendolen steals every scene.

Shelf or charity shop?  Worthy of a shelf all on it's own, this is one of my desert island films.  In a world of ghastly reimaginings and modern-dress reductiveness, the film stands as a record to a cast and film-makers honouring the material. Exquisitely shot by Desmond Dickinson and gloriously costumed by Beatrice Dawson, the film looks as good as it sounds - and it sounds absolutely glorious, no better than in the scene where Gwendolen and Cecily duel over their supposed engagements to Earnest, to hear Joan Greenwood say these lines in quick succession is to witness perfection:

“I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train"

"I am glad to say that I have never seen a spade.  It is obvious that our social spheres have been widely different"

"You have filled my tea with lumps of sugar, and though I asked most distinctly for bread and butter, you have given me cake".

It is the bitterest irony that Anthony Asquith's father, Herbert Asquith, as Home Secretary signed Oscar Wilde's arrest warrent.

DVD/150: THE BROWNING VERSION (Anthony Asquith, 1951)

Of the ten films made by director Anthony Asquith and writer Terence Rattigan, the most resonant remains THE BROWNING VERSION, released three years after Rattigan's one-act play opened.

 

Rattigan deservedly won the Best Screenplay Award at the Cannes Film Festival for his adaptation.

Michael Redgrave won the Cannes Best Actor Award while also giving one of the great screen performances as Andrew Crocker-Harris, a classics master who, after 18 years teaching in a boys school, has atrophied into a pedantic, remote man.  When it's announced that Crocker-Harris is leaving the next day due to ill health, he is made aware of the dislike of pupils and colleagues.

His wife Millie is also openly contemptuous, barely hiding an affair with science teacher Frank, but when she learns Andrew has been refused an expected school pension, she goes on the attack.

But a pupil's unexpected goodbye present changes everything...

Shelf or charity shop?  Currently living in my plastic storage box, THE BROWNING VERSION is a film that delivers a quietly devastating emotional punch.  Beautifully directed by Asquith, his film allows you to slowly side against the malign forces facing Crocker-Harris both professionally and personally.  As I said, Michael Redgrave delivers not only his best screen performance but one of the truly great screen performances; staying within the strict parameters of the character but by through the smallest, precise timing of gesture and voice, you will be totally on his side by the end of the film.  There is excellent support from Jean Kent as the vindictive Millie, Nigel Patrick as her lover Frank who makes amends for their deception and Wilfred Hyde White as the smoothly unfeeling headmaster.  A special mention for Brian Smith as young Taplow whose unexpected farewell present to Crocker-Harris starts a chain reaction.  This scene where his small act of kindness causes Crocker-Harris to finally break down in halting sobs is the film's devastating core.