It doesn't really matter when pondering the origins of artistic creative genius when you have the privilege of actually hearing it, and it doesn't come much better than listening to Richard Rodney Bennet's musical score to this film. I watched the VHS version which, unfortunately, is still the only one available, last winter, and was struck by the film's musical message and subject content. It also doesn't really matter if historical accuracy is somewhat shrouded by other matters, considered more important, such as the core, or center of the soul, which was the essence of Caroline Lamb's relationship with Byron, and which caused her life to break down into hopeless violence and chaos; "it'll end badly," according to her husband's accurate prediction. This is what Bolt wanted to portray and did so successfully, much like his portrayal of Thomas More in 'A Man For All Seasons.' Of course, the film isn't without flaws - very few are. Sarah Miles was probably more successfully cast in films such as 'Those Magnificent men in Their Flying Machines,' or 'Ryan's Daughter.' But a historical Lady Caroline is probably difficult to act. Margaret Leighton did a much better job portraying a shrewish hard-nosed Lady Melbourne. You couldn't, in those days, go beyond being "a little shady," right to her ignorant, inexpressive and unmoved response to Caroline's bizarre 'wild' death from a broken heart: "My god... wouldn't she!" All she ever cared about was her son's political status and ambition, no less than her own reputation. It's perhaps ironic that these two actresses played opposite each other in a contemporary version of 'Great Expectations' when Leighton as Miss Havisham regrets rearing a heart of stone, Estella. The death scene is almost reminiscent of dark and stormy parallel film genre situations, such as Susannah York's wandering around the Yorkshire Moors in an adaptation of Jane Eyre, and Anna Calder Marshall's performance as the ghost of a dead Catherine Earnshaw in a 70's adaptation of Wuthering Heights. Byron and Heathcliff are rocks on which their heroines dash themselves against. There are other examples of 19th Century tragic women caught in wind or rain, such as Hardy's 'Far From the Madding Crowd,' and for which Bennet also wrote the film score.
But to top it all, it's the music that shines forth, right from the striking opening, hearing the symbol percussion instrument when the film's title appears on the screen (like switching on a light) and is much better in the original widescreen format, to the solo violin elegy and closing credits. Miles galloping across the moors is incurably and slaveringly romantic like the romance of the times, enhancing the passion, wildness, eagerness, an unquenchable flame, in this music. Being rich, ravishing, unquenchable, insatiable, I listen to it again and again and again. It's dramatic and overwhelming; even haunting cold, hollow. Enough said.
But to top it all, it's the music that shines forth, right from the striking opening, hearing the symbol percussion instrument when the film's title appears on the screen (like switching on a light) and is much better in the original widescreen format, to the solo violin elegy and closing credits. Miles galloping across the moors is incurably and slaveringly romantic like the romance of the times, enhancing the passion, wildness, eagerness, an unquenchable flame, in this music. Being rich, ravishing, unquenchable, insatiable, I listen to it again and again and again. It's dramatic and overwhelming; even haunting cold, hollow. Enough said.