The Go-Between

I have a hunch that readers of E. L. Forster or fans of Merchant-Ivory productions will be delighted by Joseph Losey's Golden Palm winner "The Go-Between"; on the surface another exploration of British aristocracy at the turn of the century from a novel by L. P. Hartley. And yet the miracle of Joseph Losey's directing and Harold Pinter's writing is to make such a lively and bright film out of rather nonchalant people basking in bourgeois idleness and confined in the codes of their cast... not to mention indulging to ersatz of activities that would make any sane mind wonder: aren't these people ever bored?

But there's more in that story: it swiftly shifts the focus from adult characters and the usual forbidden-love trope to a child who finds himself entangled in the romance between a stunningly beautiful young lady Marian (Julie Christie) and a manly long-haired farmer Ted Burgess (Alan Bates). The boy's name is Leo (Dominic Guard) and the film opens with his marveled eyes as the carriage takes him to his rich classmate's luxurious house in the middle of the countryside near Norfolk. His friend Marcus is played by Richard Gibson.

Together they climb up and down the stairs, making loud echoing noises, playfully wrestling, simply acting their age with an innocence in danger of being spoiled, if not soiled. On that level, "The past is a foreign country" is one of these openings that immediately stick to your memory, like "I had a farm in Africa" or "Only Connect", suggesting a present way so estranged from the past we may suspect that these holidays at the Trunighnam house had a dramatic impact on the boy's life. Whether for bad or good reasons is the element of mystery that gives the film its spice. Michel Legrand's ominous piano theme keeps us on guard.

Still, Leo who's obviously fish-out-of water in this grand house carries on very well and manages to win the heart of the family, grabbing a few genuine chuckles through unintentionally dry humor. Known to practice black magic, he matter-of-factly says "well, there's spell and spell" and when asked by the matriarch (Margaret Leighton) if he's intending to cast deadly spells on them, he says "I shouldn't think so", which is so British tongue-in-cheek humor.

At that time, he's already noticed the beauty of young Marian played by Julie Christie, they go along very well, she buys him a forest-green outfit and the choice of color isn't fortuitous. His first mission would be to carry romantic letters to Ted, unbeknownst to him, green is in fact a camouflage, but what counts is to make Marian happy.

Meanwhile, he gets in closer circles, meeting Hugh Thurmingham (Edward Fox was born to play aristocrats). Hugh grows an instant liking on Leo and coins him with an obvious nickname: Mercury. When Leo learns that Marian is engaged to him, he starts questioning the ethics of his unofficial endeavor, even a child his age knows the value of engagement and friendship and wants answers that would reasonably comfort him.

But as summer goes on, the little green chameleon fits just too well within the village, even catching a few good balls during a cricket game, a sport also cast by the spell of slowness, judging by spectators struggling with yawns and bees (where's rugby and football when you need them?). The game is followed by a singing session where Marian accompanies Ted and it's subtle moment of tension that I was surprised it didn't raise more gossipy whispers.

But in reality, the family isn't totally oblivious to Marian's on-goings, not even Hugh, not even Marian's father (Michael Redgrave) but Hugh is formal, "nothing is a lady's fault", his stoicism is as sharp as his determination to duel Ted if reparation is needed. Ted is beyond these uptight conventions but even he can't give propers answers to Leo's naive puzzlement. As for Marian she says that she can't marry Ted because that's the way it is. The tantrum she puts on Leo contrasts with the previous moments of pampering and reveals Leo's status as a lackey, a boy who doesn't act his age but his class.

And there's the fatality of a scandal coming like the grey clouds of the storm, taking us back to the rainy drops of the opening credits , we get closer to the present, and that the climax was set during a rainy evening, reminded me of that "Blade Runner" quote "all these moments will be lost in time like tears in rain", as if the happiness and innocence of childhood displayed all through the film would be annihilated in one incident, one that earned Margaret Leighton its Oscar-nomination (she has two great scenes in the film).

Now, oddly enough, Losey chose to juxtapose the story with brief glimpses on the future, obviously showing the adult Leo. Maybe it would have worked had these scenes been extended, Sergio Leone did it far better with "Once Upon a Time in America" (with which you'll find some similarities here). But these scenes are so brief they feel more disruptive than adequate. It gets better near the third act when we start to see where this is going, we understand the purpose, a sort of last voyage to the lost memories of childhood that ties the flashback together, showing what has become of Leo, a type of man whose discovery of love was sacrificed at the altar of selfish passions.

"The Go-Between" is a lavishly directed film, with glorious shots of pastoral beauty for a torrid summer that aroused two young people's instincts at the expenses of a boy's childhood, sending a warning about the negative influence adults can have by toying with kids' undivided trust. At first, I thought Legrand's score, as beautiful as it was, might have been too solemn; retrospectively, it totally fits the story.