Citizen Eyre

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Not quite fair to follow the exquisite Cary Fukanaga JANE EYRE with Robert Stevenson’s 1943 Gothic potboiler, though normally I’d be likely to prefer the older film (produced by Orson Welles!)

In this Hollywood England, everyone is plummy, with occasional hints of Scots accent for the harsher characters (Henry Danielle in particular) — the only Yorkshire accent is possessed by Ethel Griffies (the ornithologist from THE BIRDS) as Grace Poole, the madwoman in the attic’s nurse. She appears so late in the story that her authentic speech comes as an illusion-shattering shock.

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In the leads, of course, we have Joan Fontaine and Orson Welles, each in their own way slightly disastrous, together a cataclysmic calamity which nearly tears the film from its sprockets. But it’s not a total disaster — with atmospheric studio artifice — Thornfield as Castle Frankenstein — and Bernard Herrmann at his most chromatically characteristic, the movie is beautiful to see and hear, and there are fragments of good scenes and good ideas throughout. Stevenson, assisted and harassed by Welles, and with a mainly intelligent script her co-authored with Aldous Huxley and John Houseman, manoeuvres his way through the long, convoluted narrative quite deftly, distorting quite a bit and being too obvious much of the time, but hitting the key points…

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You’ll grow to love Joan’s “concerned simpleton” expression or, if you don’t, it won’t be from lack of opportunity because it NEVER LEAVES HER FACE.

But we never believe the love story, do we? Orson is able to look offscreen with affecting tenderness — helped, I suspect, by his custom of playing his closeups against thin air. But when he’s intercut with Fontaine’s simpering features, we wonder what is inspiring such compassion, since Fontaine is cycling through her limited repertoire much faster than usual and too more wearying effect. (It’s a bit like DEAD MEN DON’T WEAR PLAID, this intercutting of closeups that seem to technically correspond but betray the manipulation usually concealed — we KNOW, Kuleshov be damned, that these shots don’t belong together.)

Listen — I like Fontaine, who is great in REBECCA and LETTER FROM AN UNKNOWN WOMAN and numerous other things. But look — in the screen tests for REBECCA, happily preserved, we can see a small army of Hollywood lovelies trying and failing to grab the role of the meek and mild “I”. The character actually has a line about being shy, but Loretta Young plays it lush and saintly, while Vivian Leigh looks like she wants to tear Maxim DeWinter’s trousers off. Fontaine’s looks like the most intelligent reading by far, but maybe it’s just that her mannerisms suited it better? She can play shy. As Jane Eyre, she’s supposed to be spirited — and she gives us the most submissive, eyes-downcast, passive performance we ever saw. A case of an actor needing to be broken from her habitual performance and shoved out into terra incognito, not an easy thing when the actor is a star. Also a case of playing the lines, which are technically submissive as it’s 19th century employee-to-employer dialogue, rather than playing the subtext. (I just watched The Secret Life of Books on the BBC, in which awful journalist Bidisha struggles with the politics of the book — she loved it at sixteen when she read it for pleasure, but now she’s thinking deeply about it, it all seems so incorrect — partly because her attempts to shoehorn it into a modern PC paradigm interfere with her ability to actually read and understand.)

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Welles plays his happy scenes as Charles Rochester Kane, wears his pants absurdly high and affects a piratical puffy shirt and a false nose, but is very good in places. I like listening to his voice and we can believe him as temperamental, domineering, haunted — during those moments when we can believe him as a human being at all.

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As you can see — great visuals, particularly in long shot.

The script hews closely to the cornier aspects of the book’s ending, though Jane never becomes rich — but we do get Rochester’s miracle recovery from blindness and the birth of a son to the house of Rochester, though this is all in the form of Fontaine’s tremulous narration, so Sonny Bupp is deprived of a plum role. As far as I recall, other adaptations are content to end with Jane and Edward reunited and “Reader, I married him,” as the inevitable future outcome, skipping any suggestion of a cure and letting the audience imagine the oncoming domestic bliss, such as it may be.

6 Responses to “Citizen Eyre”

  1. Agree about Fontaine (who invariably wears one of those expressions that make you want to slap her, even though I deplore physical violence) but I find Welles devastatingly sexy in this role, and I do like Robert Stevenson, a Derbyshire-born, Cambridge-educated, Gainsborough-apprenticed Brit (with Pacifist beliefs!) who sounds a wee bit more interesting than your average studio hack. Old Yeller AND Bedknobs and Broomsticks! both of which can still reduce me to emotional wrecks in their home straights. Also, In Search of the Castaways was my favourite film when I was eight.

  2. Fontaine is indeed good and well cast in REBECCA and LETTER FROM AN UNKNOWN WOMAN. But she fails in roles where she has to show an ounce of adult sex appeal.

  3. Hmm, let me think about that one… George Stevens managed to give her more of a sense of the physical.

    As David WIngrove (a great fan of this version) told me, the irony of Robert Stevenson’s career is that he came to America as a pacifist and ended up working for Howard Hughes and Walt Disney.

  4. david wingrove Says:

    Joan is very sexy indeed in BORN TO BE BAD, TENDER IS THE NIGHT and above all SERENADE (where her character, a predatory socialite, was a gay man in the original James M Cain novel). She was also no shrinking violet in her off-screen life. Douglas Fairbanks Jr. relates in his autobiography that he and his co-stars on GUNGA DIN refrained from using naughty words or telling raunchy jokes in front of Joan because they didn’t want to shock her. It was their turn to be shocked when they found out she was having a passionate affair with the director, George Stevens!

  5. Let’s say sex appeal is subjective. For me, she never had any. It certainly wasn’t her strong suit.Though I’ve not seen SERENADE.

  6. It didn’t occur to me to worry about her sexiness before, and it wasn’t primarily what bothered me here. Jane is obviously full of repressed passion but she keeps it to herself mainly, so I wasn’t looking for any heaving bosoms or that kind of thing. Welles me be overacting but he’s INTERESTING. What you can’t see is why he’d be interested in Joan. Her expression literally never changes.

    Jane-as-a-girl is quite good in this one. She looks a bit like the spooky kind who plays her friend in the new version.

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