Women in Love

First, let me state that I am a fan of anything "DH Lawrence", and, particularly, WOMEN IN LOVE (in both of its novelistic forms and its 1969 Ken Russell/Glenda Jackson film adaptation). A HUGE fan.

The above vote of 10 stars is for accepting this adaptation on it's own particular terms. Those terms are established on the melding of themes from the text of THE RAINBOW and WOMEN IN LOVE and the incorporation of thematically related "bits" from other of DHL's writings --- some borrowings from his early THE TRESSPASSER as well, perhaps? We also are back with the sisters themselves instead of the quasi-closeted homo erotic preoccupations of the Ken Russell/Larry Kramer film and, well, Lawrence's book (WIL) itself. (The notorious wrestling scene is intact, but differently)The scriptwriting is an act of brilliant,rejuvenating, irreverence towards a Standard 20th Century Classic. The direction (importantly) executed by a woman, maneuvers the viewpoint away from the potentially sensational --- though, there's enough of that intact ---- and skewers our attention towards psychologically fascinating CHARACTERS and how they think, act, talk, feel and interact. In other words, we are dealing with real people with all of their complexities and the unusual and carefully chosen actors are more than up to the challenge. Metaphysical richness makes itself known through the in-the-viewers'-faces relationships of its characters not unlike the terrain of Ingmar Bergman's SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE. In many ways this and the 2006 LADY CHATTERLEY directed by Pascale Ferran stand together as the beginning of a much-needed "Woman-ist" (or dare I say "Feminist") questioning and restatement of Lawrence's absorption in The Sexes. As a result, we start to get a more complete and therefore more interesting whole picture. This is THE RAINBOW and WOMEN IN LOVE as it might have been written by a woman instead of a man. Perhaps this heralds a trend where more women will delve into Lawrentian territory for cinematic subject matter. The result could be a revelatory body of work for us all.

This is hard and demanding cinema. There's little likable. It is often bleak and sometimes downright ugly --- very little of the pretty or the Romantic to leaven the situation. But, remember, the gist of Lawrence's book, under the purpled prose and poetic flights, was actually that way, too.

So, this writer suggests you --- particularly if "you" are a DHL/WIL Fan --- put away your cherished expectations and your wishes to return to hallowed literary grounds. Open your mind, fight your wish to reject and submit to something totally 180 degrees different and new. It isn't either book --- it's a uncompromising restatement of them.

Many thanks to BBC4 for funding something this radical and risky. It's been a long time since a literary adaptation made me think and feel so long and so deeply in its aftermath.

Bravo! to all involved.

It's hard not to compare this version of "Women in Love" with Ken Russell's 1969 polished rendition. No doubt, viewers interested enough to sit through this 3-hour reinterpretation are familiar with the material. Others may be rightly confused and less than enthused by this slow-moving, cold-hearted rendering. Casting alone doomed this production from the start - Rupert here is quite the nerd. The direction lacks coherence and tension. There's little sense of the milieux from which the characters emerged (particularly in the case of Gerald). Scenes go on far too long. Quite a disappointment on many levels.

How proud am I, how thrilled and moved and excited.

In 1969 Ken Russell - whose works ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous - gave the world his somewhat flawed, but unmistakable masterpiece WOMEN IN LOVE based on the D H Lawrence novel. (The latter remains one of my favourite authors.) The one and only Alan Bates together with Glenda Jackson, Jenny Linden, Oliver Reed, Eleonor Bron and many others brought the characters to unforgettable celluloid life.

Now, forty two years on BBC4 has produced a two part series of the same novel, mixed with themes and scenes from its prequel THE RAINBOW. Although it might be said that it would be hard to equal the Russell version, William Ivory delivers a sterling script and Miranda Bowen's direction never falters. It is, in short, as good as the original and it steers clear of ever mimicking or mocking it. Russell's work viewed the sisters Gudrun and Ursula from a male perspective. Lawrence had enough feminine wiles and qualities to truly understand his female characters and in Bowen's version this is obvious. Unlike Glenda Jackson's powerhouse and almost butch Gudrun, Rosamund Pike delivers a cunning vixen, a very feminine near nymphomaniac artist and Rachael Stirling is a stronger, more present, less demure Ursula than Jenny Linden.

The film's sequences differ from Russell's work and where essential scenes have to be repeated, they offer an entirely different insight into both character and situation. For instance here the famous nude wrestling scene between Rupert Birkin and Gerald Crich features much later, is less erotic, not in front of a winter fire but on the beach in bright sunshine and therefore is more plausible and motivated. By now the two friends have strained their relationship to such an extent that they have to confront each other. Incidentally,this version doesn't shy away from Rupert's suppressed gay tendencies. There is no sign of the chilling Alpine snow scenes where the two couples 'split'. Here we have the scorching South African desert with heat so visible it has to affect and effect the characters. And gone is the final discussion between Rupert and Ursula where he declares: "Having you, I can live all my life without anybody else, any other sheer intimacy. But to make it complete, really happy, I wanted eternal union with a man too: another kind of love," With her reply:"I don't believe it. It's an obstinacy, a theory, a perversity." This has already been portrayed and would be superfluous. The film's end is almost abrupt and unexpected and has great impact.

According to sources the BBC Four production was shot entirely on location in South Africa. If so, the art director, set designers and dressers etc should be doubly congratulated for depicting the English Midlands during the early 1920s.

The reason for my pride and excitement, however, is how the local (South African) actors not only hold their own, but well-nigh outshine their British colleagues in some scenes (more about this later). I can't mention them all, but Tamia Visagie (Winifred), James Alexander (Roddice), Natasha Loring (German girl) and Michelle Maxwell (her aunt) all deliver gems. The stalwart and immensely versatile Jeremy Crutchley turns Gudrun's mentor/lover Robert (entirely overlooked by Larry Kramer & Ken Russell) into both desirable and detestable flesh. Tinarie Van Wyk-Loots creates a Samantha who is far more than the sum-total of her beautiful face and exquisite boobs; she is not merely whore but the full-blooded woman in body and mind both Brangwen sisters ache to be. As the somewhat ambiguous and mysterious Wolfgang Loerke (portrayed by Vladek Sheybal in 1969 as a vicious, scheming queer) Grant Swanby once again shows why he is one of my favourite actors. His Loerke is less obvious, less blatant - a subtle seduction of Gudrun's senses and sensibilities. And then there is Susan Danford who in 90 seconds looks like a young Geraldine Chaplin (if not for her voice I wouldn't have recognised her) but demolishes Gudrun as Robert's wife surrounded by their four or five children. She does what Jack Nicholson did to Robert de Niro in The Last Tycoon: in one short scene she totally overshadows Rosamund Pike. It's not scene stealing. It is inevitable and essential. And leaves an indelible memory.

All these actors are of course thoroughbreds on stage. When oh when oh when are we coming up with a local script and a director to do cinematic justice to so much acting talent? And there are many more out there (or should I say out here?) We have a wealth of good, great and brilliant actors. And an abundance of stories. .

The vote of 10 stars is given having read and studied the author. The feeling of limbo and not belonging in a time when Britain especially would be changed by the First World War is conveyed well. The futility felt by the few men who returned from the front.

The cast are superb in their roles!

I checked this video out of my local library; when I got it home I was surprised to find the casting of Rosamund Pike and Rachael Stirling was not what I thought: Pike plays Gudrun and Stirling Ursula rather than the other way round. This is a fundamental miscasting that casts a pall over the whole production. I remember Glenda Jackson's Gudrun from the Russell film, how tough, witty and angry she could be, a match for Oliver Reed's Gerald Crich. Rosamund Pike is no competition for Jackson; she seems out of touch with the proceedings much of the time. Take the famous horse and trucks scene: Gerald digs his spurs into his horse's flank (got to show the animal who's boss), while Gudrun shouts at him. There's fury in Russell's version, but none here; it just seems as though Pike's girdle is pinching her a little bit.

Rachael Stirling does better with Ursula, who is a vital, idealistic woman herself, the equal of her more spectacular sister. I regret the inclusion of the Skrebensky scenes from The Rainbow, they serve little dramatic purpose and eat up running time that could better be spent on Hermione, Ursula and Birkin, that awkward triangle. Rory Kinnear is effective as Birkin; the script shows rather than implies his homosexual leanings. I often wondered if Birkin's endless philosophizing about love and sex was just a way of throwing a smokescreen over his same-sex yearnings. It looks like the filmmakers agree with me. Gerald in the novel is a cardboard figure who represents the male principle: hard, unimaginative, domineering--we get it.

The lesser roles: Hermione is played by Olivia Grant who's not a patch on Eleanor Bron for Russell. Saskia Reeves as Anna Brangwen has some moving scenes. Tinarie van Wyk's part is adapted from the Pompadour café scenes; I wish it had been fleshed out, it showed promise.