Film of the book – Far from the madding crowd

We didn’t have to wait long for the DVD version of Vinterberg’s 2015 film adaptation of Far From the Madding Crowd, didn’t have to wait long either for it to drop to a fiver at Tescos. Film adaptations of Victorian novels are always on dodgy ground because the novels are long, films relatively short, so you have to ditch a lot of material if you want to make the running time. The trouble with that is, how much do you ditch while maintaining faithfulness to the original story? Why would you want to be faithful anyway? Well, it’s like supporting a roof while skimping on the rafters. Sooner or later the premise becomes so flimsy, it’s not worth the risk, and the story no longer stands. You might as well simply write your own tale and save on the film rights.

This adaptation doesn’t quite fall into that category, but neither is there much here that will impress devotees of Hardy’s Wessex novels – more likely just annoy them. In short, I was a little disappointed. I got off to a bad start with the opening scene and a subtitle describing the setting of the story as being 200 miles from London, this I presume for the international audience, and meant to instil a sense of remoteness, as if London were the only place in the UK worth a damn, and the rest is mud.

Grrr.

Anyway, the nub of it is that even with a two hour running time, the best you were ever going to get here was a pitch-precis, and that means ditching many of the key scenes, scenes of great meaning, at least to Hardy fans, turning something of depth and emotional complexity into candy-floss.

But the paradox is it’s a strong and photogenic cast, and they play it well. Cary Mulligan comes closest to my ideal Bathsheba. Michael Sheen, as Boldwood, is compellingly tragic, Tom Sturridge as Troy is convincingly caddish. Matthias Schoenaerts as Oak has a quiet, commanding presence, and his on screen chemistry with Bathsheba is convincing enough for me to forgive the lack of west country accent, or even an English accent for that matter.

Yet for all of that, the parts seemed underwritten for efficiency, the chopping of scenes rushing us along, leaving us breathless to catch up. It was a visually pleasing experience but, given the clear  potential of the cast, I found it superficial. Yes,… yes, I know – to do the story justice we’d need a mini-series topping six hours.

As for the central character – Bathsheba, she is played with great presence by Cary Mulligan, but the script papers over her  vanity, plays up her feminist credentials instead, I presume, to a modern audience. We also lost much of the potential of her character deepened by the tragedy of unfortunate choices. The Bathsheba at the end of this story seemed entirely unreformed to me, and I feel sure even the most stoical Oak would not have stuck with such a bossy britches, still smiling and flirting even after the murder of her husband and the incarceration of her would-be lover. Oak would have gone to America, like he said.

It’s not enough to say Oak was in love, for here what’s lacking is the mythic power of the story, of the hero winning through by a quiet attentiveness, and a loyalty that does not press his muse nor expect her favours, while all others in their harrying haste fail the test and meet a bad end.

It’s hard to imagine this retelling will stand the test of time, not in the same way as Schlesinger’s  ’67 adaptation which is still compellingly watchable. In that version, Julie Christie was visually miscast, but forgiven for it on account of her commanding performance. Terence Stamp as Troy, and Peter Finch as Boldwood were stunning, the former rakishly bad, the latter eyebrow twitchingly mad. I’ll even begrudgingly admit I liked Alan Bates’s turn as Oak. And with a longer running time (170 mins), the film was not so flimsy for having fewer planks taken out of it.

But if you don’t know who Thomas Hardy is and you couldn’t care less, you won’t mind or perhaps even notice the shortcomings of the latest adaptation since it boils down to a romantic costume drama, beautifully shot with engaging characters and a happy ending. In those terms at least, what’s not to like about it?

Victorian novels aren’t to everyone’s taste, obviously. Most of them bore the pants off me too. They can be overlong and overly descriptive, whole pages expended on the description of someone’s hat – things to be suffered in English Lit when young, then discarded. It’s so much easier to watch the film. What you get here though is a rough outline of the original story, compellingly acted and visually pleasing, but what it lacks, obviously, is the breadth and depth of Hardy’s intent, which is so much more than the tale of a country girl who fancies herself, and her three suitors: the cad, the sugar-daddy, and the quiet man, who all fancy her as well.

But listen, I’m just a grumpy bugger who likes Hardy and felt a bit let down, so you mustn’t take my word for any of this.

See it for yourself. Crack open a bottle of wine, serve up some tasty nibbles, take the ‘phone off the hook:

Out on DVD now!