There's one thing you should know going into this: I have a sort of a love/hate feeling about adapter Andrew Davies. (If you read my NRO review, you probably will have picked up on that.) He can be so incredibly good at bringing great works to life on the screen, and then he can turn around and be so coarse or tin-eared that he drives me up the wall. Please don't mind if I have a little one-sided discussion with him here and there; it's normal. (For me, I mean. Probably not for anyone else in the world.)
And I hope you won't mind my rambling, either. This is going to be way longer than my previous remarks on Dickens adaptations. There are an awful lot of details I wasn't able to fit into that NRO piece!
On with the show . . .
***
Mrs. Clennam's house is just exactly right. And so are Affery and Jeremiah, even to the head constantly on one side. I like this little flute (or piccolo?) motif they're using for Amy. (Note to self: Find out if the soundtrack is being made available.)
I will admit straight off that Matthew Macfadyen is a mite young to be playing 40-year-old Arthur. But then, if Derek Jacobi could play him when he was 50 (and looking -- how shall I put this? -- a good bit older than 50), why not go in the other direction and let a 33 year old take a crack at the role? Besides, for all the "Woe is me, I'm so old" attitude that Arthur takes up later in the story, he's actually supposed to be "young in appearance." Works for me!
Pet was never the sharpest knife in the drawer, but they've made her a total ditz. And a blonde. Coincidence? . . . All right, I'll stay away from the blonde jokes. But I do think that if an author makes a character a brunette, she ought to stay a brunette. Brunettes of the world, unite!
Freema Agyeman makes an excellent Tattycoram, with all that half-suppressed rage (wish they'd taken a moment to explain her name and why Miss Wade calls her "Harriet"). It seems silly to suggest, though, that she wouldn't have known originally why the Meagles family was taking her. It wasn't such an uncommon thing for a child or adolescent to be taken in on a servant basis. You see the idea in plenty of older books (Anne of Green Gables, for one), and even though we don't see it as a good idea now, to put it mildly, at least the Meagleses are kind to her, giving her a huge advantage over many other orphans in her situation. Their biggest fault is a lack of understanding, not a lack of kindness or sincerity.
Tom Courtenay is marvelous with that monotone of his. They're blending an awful lot from the book into one scene with the Dorrits here, but it's working, at least until they go a little overboard with the exposition. Amy's "I love you as you are" is perfect -- the keynote of her character, in fact.
This is a terrific little scene between Arthur and the waiter. I didn't list him in the credits because his part is so small, but a shout-out to Jonathan Slinger for infusing this tiny role with so much energy and interest. Very Dickensian of him to throw such a spotlight on a minor character. As for Macfadyen, his facial expressions here, showing Arthur shriveling up at the thought of facing his mother, are wonderful.
Arthur's old prayer book and his reaction to it suggest a train of thought that I won't go into here, as it might take up too much time and space in this post. (Yeah, I know, what's a few more words in an avalanche of them?) But I may touch on it later.
I LOVE the long, long, looooong buildup to Arthur and Amy's first meeting, only to have them brush by each other like the proverbial ships in the night. Good one, Davies! I also like the little flashback to Arthur's family when he was a boy. We hear so very little of his father in the book, but here, in this brief scene, Ian McElhinney manages to show a vulnerability that adds a lot to the family's portrayal.
It's a minor thing, but if Arthur could manage to lose that big old silly-looking hat somewhere, I would be a very happy girl. Pet continues to be a ditz. Must . . . not . . . make . . . blonde . . . jokes . . .
It's another minor thing, but I don't know why Mr. Dorrit has such an obsession with ensuring that people call his son "Edward" instead of by his nickname. It wasn't in the book, so I'm not sure what the point is. Just more snobbishness, I suppose. (Hey, I used "obsession" and "Edward" in a sentence. Maybe I'll get a few hits from Twilight fans. No, I didn't do it on purpose -- just realized it after I wrote the sentence -- but a hit's a hit, no matter where it comes from. And it wouldn't hurt them to hear about a good story . . . all right, I won't go there either. Back to business.)
Hold on here. Just HOLD ON. Little Dorrit does not snap at people. I don't care how feminist or twenty-first-century your perspective is, Little Dorrit does not snap at people. It's not in her nature AT ALL. Restraint, Davies, restraint!
Ah well, once that foolishness is out of the way, there's right away a lovely chemistry between these two. And their first scene with Maggy, though a little more truncated than I would like, is really cute.
Raise your hand if you expected Andy Serkis to tack a "My preciousssss!" on to the end of that "Lagnier!" The tone and look are exactly the same. I hope there's some scenery left by the time he gets done chewing it. A little over the top, but what the heck, Rigaud is meant to be a little over the top, and Serkis is clearly having a tremendous time with this part.
Wow. WOW. The staging of these Circumlocution Office scenes is brilliant. Somewhere Lewis Carroll is weeping with envy over these sets. (And somewhere, I hope, Emmy voters are making a note!)
Mr. Casby has way more hair than I expected. He looks like Santa Claus. But when you see him with the kids -- yeah, that works. Boy, does that work. Actually, I think he stole some hair from Pancks. I don't know if I can get used to a bald Pancks, not to mention a baby-faced one. I really don't know if I can get used to a Pancks who talks more than Flora -- that's not right at all. Ruth Jones is a very good Flora, though, but not as good as Flora on the page. I don't know if anybody could be; Flora on the page is simply inimitable. I'll have to run a few quotes from her sometime this week to demonstrate.
Macfadyen just nails the moment when Arthur sees Flora. Dickens says in the book, "Clennam's eyes no sooner fell upon the subject of his old passion than it shivered and broke to pieces." I think I would have gotten all that out of Macfadyen's face even if I'd never read those words.
"Made different down there"?? For the love of -- Davies, you did not just go there! Flora's statement from the book was pretty politically incorrect -- something about the Chinese ladies' eyes being different -- but come on. You didn't have to replace it with that. There's no way a prissy Victorian woman like Flora would say that in mixed company, even if you would!
(Did Pancks just do a Jell-O shot?)
I could live without scenes from Rigaud's sex life -- but it could have been way worse, so I'd better just count my blessings.
Back to the Clennam house (love the crooked camera angles they're using here). Claire Foy is really good in this scene, just listening to what's going on. There's a birdlike quickness and fluency to her movements that show her interest and her thoughts. (I noticed earlier that you could hear bird sounds when she was going into the Marshalsea, reflecting Dickens's language about how "the small bird, reared in captivity, had tamely fluttered in." We obsessive-compulsive English majors notice these things.) Arthur is so moving in these scenes with his mother.
The little scene where Arthur buys the flowers and sends the prostitute home is also unexpectedly moving. This one is original, not from the book. Very nice there, Davies.
(Did they really say "cramp my style" in Victorian England? Probably about as often as they did Jell-O shots.)
There's a scene during this night sequence that I really, really, really wish they'd filmed, where Amy sits outside with Maggy and daydreams about what it would be like to dance with Arthur at a party. Actually, I can hardly believe they didn't film it. It would have made the loveliest dream sequence, and catnip for the Austenites (not to mention me).
But she kept the button! Aww, how cute is that! Next thing you know she'll have a notebook hidden away somewhere with "Mrs. Arthur Clennam" scrawled all over it.
End of Part 1. If you've got any impressions to share, please post them below -- I'd love to hear them!
Your observations are nearly as entertaining as the show...and spot-on as well.
Nice work Gina!
I want to see more of Mr. F's Aunt...she's a hoot in the book!
Posted by: David Perdue | March 30, 2009 at 12:23 AM
Thanks for your comment! I would love to compare notes once I get around to "House of Fallen Women."
I enjoy reading your blog, as my exposure to Dickens has been pretty limited. Just curious - have you read "Mister Pip" by Lloyd Jones? I just finished it, and found the rewriting of Dickens really interesting.
Posted by: Jen | March 30, 2009 at 10:06 AM
Jen -- no, not yet, but I've heard a little about it. It does sound pretty interesting.
David -- Isn't she awesome? My mom, who was watching with me last night, let out an actual hoot when she appeared onscreen with that scowl all over her face. :-)
Thank you both for the nice words!
Posted by: Gina | March 30, 2009 at 04:11 PM
Gina, you are a beast! (My teenager daughter assures me that is a complement.) I watched it last night thanks to you, and enjoyed it very much. It started a bit slow for me, trying to get the gist of the story, but it didn't take long to fully entrance me. I was bummed when it ended. I don't know if I've ever read Dickens, so this is a nice intro into his other stuff (other than you know what). It's great reading your comments because it gives me more context.
Posted by: Mike D'Virgilio | March 30, 2009 at 05:14 PM
So far, so good. For me, LD rises and falls with Tom Courtenay's performance: you have to walk a fine between loathing Mr. Dorrit for what he's done to his family (and his absurd clinging to gentility) and seeing what Amy sees in him. Otherwise, she's pathetic, which she is not.
An aside: is Matthew MacFayden capable of anything less than a great performance? Apart from the circumstances of his marriage to his "Spooks" co-star, I can't recall anything he's done that I haven't liked.
Posted by: Roberto | March 30, 2009 at 07:21 PM
I am so glad that I've found your Dickensblog and intend to keep following your musings. I have been on a Dickens jag for a bit now, and have just begun reading "Little Dorrit." I have watched episode 1 on PBS as well, and am absolutely smitten! Also, if you not read Dan Simmons' new book, "Drood", I highly recommend it. To really appreciate Simmons' novel, I think you've got to have some of Dickens' later novels under your belt, as well as Wilkie Collins', "The Woman In White" and "The Moonstone." Anyhow, please keep up the great work! Cheers! Chris
Posted by: christopher harris | April 03, 2009 at 11:44 AM
I posted this on the PBS blog today:
By making Tattycoram black and (apparently) a slave and Mr Meagles (apparently) a slave master, you have perverted Mr. Meagle's charitable act of rescuing Tattycoram from an orphanage into an act of oppression. Why? I'll grant you small liberties like a Pancks sans hair as long as the spirit of the character is preserved (which in Pancks' case well done and bravo), but to needlessly present Tattycoram thus is to (apparently) stray into what Harold Bloom would term the "School of Resentment": foisting your agenda onto an unsuspecting public who in the majority will never read this masterpiece and thus will never know the true Dickensian portrayal of Pet's maid and Mr. Meagle's noble heart. As Ms. Morely said above this is truly "more than Dickens intended: Fie! Fie! for shame: but for all the other wonderful elements of your portrayal I'll be watching anyway: can't help myself!
Posted by: Kevin Quinn | April 17, 2009 at 11:29 AM
Thanks very much for sharing your PBS blog comment with us, Kevin.
Although I don't mind the casting of Tattycoram -- especially because the actress is so good -- I've heard others make similar observations. The worst was someone who said that because Tattycoram was black (and because of what that meant) the Meagleses had better apologize to her for their treatment of her! Sigh.
I think they could have overcome this impression by emphasizing the Meagles' genuine care and concern for her, but they haven't really done that, which makes it seem likelier that they were aiming at the School of Resentment. Which is exactly what Dickens did NOT want, judging by the chapter "The History of a Self-Tormentor" and other indications. We can only hope that the hysteria she's been displaying leads people to realize -- as it did with my mother -- that there really is something the matter with her that isn't the Meagles' fault. (From this characterization, in fact, my mother has decided that Tatty is probably bipolar, which may actually be pretty near the mark!)
Posted by: Gina | April 18, 2009 at 11:18 AM
OOOOh, nice blog! I just recently started reading Little Dorrit, thanks to the TV series. How very interesting. There are many similarities with Our Mutual Friend, which I have loved since childhood. (What strange taste for a child, you may think.)
I feel somewhat conflicted about Macfadyen's age. It does bother me a bit that he seems too young. Not that I think older (eg, 50) is more appropriate either. Still, this image of Arthur Clennam is not exactly what I get from the novel. I suspect that Davies had deliberately wanted to make Arthur appear younger, livelier, less passive, and less depressed than the book. On the other hand, Macfadyen's performance is spot on. This performance can be immediately transplanted to John Harmon in OMF and it would be perfect.
Posted by: Jun | April 21, 2009 at 09:39 PM
Jun:
Well said.
Another parallel: while Chas D. decries class system injustice, virtue isn't enough for his "lower" class heroines: they must be educated ("improved")before being "acceptable" to "gentleman": without any LD plot spoilers think Lizzie and Eugene in OMF...
Posted by: Kevin Quinn | April 22, 2009 at 10:24 AM
Kevin:
True, but the hero often needs some sort of "re-education" as well before he can be matched with the heroine, namely to be brought down from his previous (relatively higher) position. Lizzie is finally "fit" for Eugene Wrayburn not only after she was improved but also after he is battered and crippled. Arthur Clennam must also be brought down (would this be a spoiler?) to become acceptable for Amy Dorrit.
I don't think the underlying issue is as straightforwardly class matching as, say, Austen or Bronte. Class is one concern, but there is also the constant vexing about money and its influence on love. I have a theory. The heroes (Eugene and Arthur) must be broken at some point in the story so that the heroines can prove (to Dickens' own mind) that they really love their men for richer or poorer. I have a feeling that Dickens himself could never be entirely sure whether the women he loved would have loved him if he were poor. The example of John Harmon/Rokesmith is a more blatant expression of this anxiety -- Is she mercenary or devoted? He went as far as deliberately testing the woman of his affection, Bella Wilfur, on this question. Lizzie and Amy are also "tested" by the author's twisty pen, which spares the heroes from the act of Harmon that may be a little disturbing to modern readers.
jun
Posted by: Jun | April 22, 2009 at 04:16 PM
Hmm . . . brought down, or reborn?
But we'll get into that later -- in fact, I foresee the possibility of some interesting conversations on that topic next week. As you indicate, Jun, it won't do to give away TOO much just yet. :-)
In any event, your point about both parties needing to go through some sort of change still stands, and it's a common theme in literature of the period. ("Pride and Prejudice" is probably the quintessential example, but "Jane Eyre" might actually run it a close second, because Rochester is forced to change on so many levels -- spiritual, moral, financial, and even physical -- and because Jane so much gains in strength and confidence while he gains so much in humility.)
As for OMF, I confess I haven't read it in FAR too long, so I can't weigh in much there. But you two go ahead without me -- this is a great discussion! And my friend Roberto recently told me about the BBC adaptation of recent years, so one of these days I'll have to take a look at that.
Posted by: Gina | April 22, 2009 at 04:39 PM
I don't think the transformation in P&P (both characthers) is nearly as profound and dramatic as OMF and LD, or even Jane Eyre, because neither Elizabeth nor Darcy underwent more change than an attitude adjustment. Jane Eyre was clearly "elevated" in class and fortune to become suitable for Rochester. :)
Posted by: Jun | April 22, 2009 at 04:54 PM
What are Jell-O shots?
I agree with you about Andrew Davies. He can take me to the heights of delight with his work and then make me want to throw things at him.
And yes, I'm reading your blog backward.
Posted by: Christy | July 16, 2009 at 01:23 PM
A Jell-O shot is . . . something I probably shouldn't even be talking about, given the number of minors we have here!
Basically, it's a kind of alcoholic drink that's made with Jell-O.
Posted by: Gina | July 16, 2009 at 01:35 PM
Ew.
Posted by: Christy | July 16, 2009 at 02:34 PM
I am very glad to have come across your blog, even though I'm eight years late to the Little Dorrit party! I borrowed the DVD from the library, discovering your incredibly helpful insights into the adaptation after Googling "Little Dorrit Don't Cramp My Style." Yes, I too was flabbergasted when I heard Fanny's comment! I will be returning to your entries as I watch the remaining episodes. Many thanks.
Posted by: Karen T-S | May 28, 2017 at 03:37 PM
Since writing my comment, I've learned that the phrase "cramp'd his vig'rous style" appears in a fan letter written to John Dryden, probably around 1697! [Source: https://jsbookreader.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html]. Even so, I don't see why Andrew Davies would use something that sounds so anachronistic (even if it's not) when the novel itself doesn't contain it.
Posted by: Karen T-S | May 28, 2017 at 04:01 PM