Northanger Abbey (NH 2007)

As they drew near the end of their journey, her impatience for a sight of the abbey — for some time suspended by his conversation on subjects very different — returned in full force, and every bend in the road was expected with solemn awe to afford a glimpse of its massy walls of grey stone, rising amidst a grove of ancient oaks, with the last beams of the sun playing in beautiful splendour on its high Gothic windows. But so low did the building stand, that she found herself passing through the great gates of the lodge into the very grounds of Northanger, without having discerned even an antique chimney (Northanger Abbey, Ch. 20)

Thus Catherine Morland espies the eerie Northanger Abbey for the first time when she arrives with Henry Tilney. In the 2007 adaptation of Jane Austen’s least popular novel, the filmmakers nevertheless chose a location that seemed to spring from the very mind of fanciful Catherine herself. Their Northanger Abbey was going to impress; and despite the deviation from the original text, impress it does.

Lismore Castle reflects both the character of its severe master, General Tilney, and the “fevered imagination” of young Catherine. Lismore stands in Waterford County in southern Ireland, directly in between the towns Cork and Waterford. Interestingly, it has been the Irish home of the Dukes of Devonshire since 1753, meaning that family has provided locations for two of the major houses in Jane Austen’s canon (the other being the magnificent Chatsworth, in Derbyshire, which played the role of Pemberley in P & P 2005).

A “castellum” belonging to Prince John first stood at the site in 1185, and after his ascension to the throne of England 1199, the castle served as a Bishop’s Palace until 1589. That year, the famed explorer and admirer of Elizabeth I Sir Walter Raleigh purchased Lismore. 1602 was not a good year for the explorer — thrown into the Tower for high treason, he sold the land, some 42,000 acres and the castle to Richard Boyle who would eventually become the first Earl of Cork and father the man who would be known by chemistry students the world over in later centuries, Robert Boyle, of Boyle’s Law. The English Civil War was not kind to the castle, and the destruction wreaked upon it by Lord Castlehaven (that’s ironic) was barely repaired until 1800, when the “Bachelor Duke,” the 6th Duke of Devonshire began an extensive restoration project (this is the same Duke who acquired Chatsworth’s huge book and sculpture collections and Georgiana’s only son with the 5th Duke) — this was after the 4th Duke of Devonshire married Lady Charlotte Boyle, the heiress of the 4th Earl of Cork, and Lismore came into the Cavendish family. The Bachelor Duke also made an important friend out of Joseph Paxton, who was a key figure in restoring Lismore and its gardens to the grand establishment we see today. The castle has passed through the family down to the 12th Duke of Devonshire who still uses Lismore as a private residence.

The castle is not open to the public (except for large groups and wedding parties who arrange in advance and when the Duke is not at home), but the gardens are open for a fee from March to September.

Behind the Scenes: Garrow’s Law

The new BBC legal drama Garrow’s Law premiers this Sunday in the UK. For those across the pond who get to see the new show (and to whet the appetite of those of us over here), Mark Pallis’s new blog will be of interest; as the historical and legal consultant for show, Pallis offers details on the Georgian legal scene and how they pertain to the series. Check it out here.

Davies worries about BBC

According to an article in yesterday’s Telegraph, Andrew Davies, England’s most prolific costume drama screenwriter, recently expressed concerns for the future of costume drama and the BBC’s apparent decision to stick only with “popular warhorses” — the time-tested material like David Copperfield, an adaptation of which Davies is currently working on, after the BBC rejected his idea for a new Dombey & Son. A new production of The Pallisers, an Anthony Trollope collection that was so well-received in the 70’s, has also been shelved due to cost concerns.

“People like bonnets. I don’t think you can under-estimate that,” Davies told the Radio Times, adding that the BBC had a duty to deliver the classics to viewers.

“I’m rather counting on the fact that there is still the BBC charter. The BBC has to justify its licence fee and the cultural value of transmitting the classics is one of the things that makes the BBC unique.

“That said, they’re certainly putting the stress on the 20th century. It’s the revenge of the controllers. The new breed don’t have anything like the power that, rightly or wrongly, someone like [former BBC head of drama] Jane Tranter had. So there’s an element of slate-wiping and territory-making.”

We’ll see how long this era of modern period drama lasts; until then, enjoy Emma and Bright Star, and whip out your DVD’s!

Read the Daily Mail’s similar article here.

Tuesday Trivia: Cal & Rose’s Suite

When I visited the Titanic Aquatic Exhibit at the Georgia Aquarium earlier this year, I tried to determine which of Titanic’s impressive suites Cal and Rose were supposed to have occupied in the movie. I came this this conclusion in my Titanic Aquatic post.

Cal and Rose’s stateroom was one of the 2 most luxurious suites on the Titanic. These promenade suites, 2 of the 4 parlour suites on B-Deck, B-51 and B-52, had their own private promenade decks, and went for $4,500 one-way ($78,950 in today’s money!). Bruce Ismay, the chairman and managing director of the White Star Line, occupied B-52 and 2 of the other B-Deck parlour suites, leaving Cal and Rose with B-51. In actuality, this suite was occupied by Mr. Thomas Drake Martinez Cardeza and his mother Mrs. James Warburton Martinez Cardeza. Other first-class suites went for about $2,500 (or $43,860 today).

But while doing some reading on the Titanic movie site, I came across this statement from the studio:

One of the era’s most powerful millionaires, J. P. Morgan also booked passage aboard Titanic, ultimately changing his mind 24 hours prior to the ship’s departure. It is his luxurious suite that Rose, Ruth and Cal occupy in the film. Who, if anyone, ultimately occupied this prestigious suite in real life remains a mystery to this day.

Afte some more research, it appears that there were 4 parlour suites on the Titanic (B-51, B-52, B-54, B-56). These were the most expensive rooms on the ship, and two of them had their own promenade decks. According to The Titanic (Geoff Tibballs, 1997),

In the midst of the assembled glitterati, there was one notable absentee. Suite number B52, the promenade suite opposite Mrs. Cardeza’s, was to have been occupied by J. Pierpont Morgan, the ship’s owner. But Morgan withdrew at the last minute, claiming that he was feeling unwell. . . . The suite, which had been designed to Morgan’s own specifications, was taken instead by J. Bruce Ismay along with his valet and secretary.

Bruce Ismay had rooms B52, B54, and B56; no word on why he needed such accommodations, but he was the head of the White Star and had an image to maintain—and a lousy image it was after the sinking. His B-52 suite was the port promenade suite, and B-51 was the starboard promenade suite. Charlotte Cardeza (Mrs. James Warburton Martinez Cardeza), a wealthy Philadelphian,  has been confirmed to have stayed in B-51 (and the two rooms attached to it, 53 and 55). Her entourage had the most luggage of any group on the ship (14 trunks, 4 suitcases, and 3 crates of baggage), and Charlotte was the disaster’s biggest insurance claimant (she filed for £36,567 in damages). These suites are depicted wonderfully in some interactive blueprints here.

Interestingly, in the movie’s screenplay, James Cameron writes that Cal and Rose stay in B52,  but that would be the wrong stateroom, unless the filmakers decided to switch Ismay’s room to B51. They must have supposed replacing the Cardeza’s with Cal and Rose (also wealthy Philadelphians with lots of cargo) to be the quietest option. It is impossible to tell definitively from the movie in which direction the ship is moving during Cal’s outburst which would decide if the room is on the port or starboard side, so we’ll just have to leave it at that.

On the Costume Drama Front

Just some news:

BBC’s new Emma will soon premier on BBC 1 in 4 one-hour installments; I can’t wait to see how it’s received in the UK.

Though Warner Bros.’s Sherlock Holmes does not premier till Christmas, talk is already underway about a sequel, namely, Brad Pitt’s reported interest in playing Holmes’s enemy, Moriarty.

The Jane Campion drama about John Keats, Bright Star, was released in the US on September 18, though it is only playing in limited locations. I myself have to wait till October 23, when the film will come to an indie movie bar just off campus. So far, it has been well-received, and some critics think it will land an Oscar nod. Anyone out there seen it?

In celebration of Little Dorrit’s 7 Emmy Wins (!!!), Masterpiece is streaming the entire series for online viewing until September 30. Check it out here!

And lastly, Ian McKellan has announced that he will resume his role as Gandalf the Grey for the new Hobbit movies (yes, movies!) directed by Guillermo del Toro and set to come out in December 2011 and December 2012. So far away!

Young Victoria Release Date

Good news! We have an official release date for The Young Victoria in America! November 13. 7 days before New Moon November is going to be a good month.

I am moving into college today (University of Georgia—Go Dawgs!), so I might be absent for a little while!

Love,

Lady Ashley

Tuesday Trivia: Mary Stuart’s Final Words

In the 2007 film Elizabeth: The Golden Age, Mary Stuart (played by Samantha Morton) utters something to the executioner just prior to her beheading—words unintelligible thanks to the mournful vocal number in the background. Though much about this epic film leaves a lot to be desired in the way of historical accuracy, according to many chroniclers, the axe man knelt down and asked her to forgive them her death, and she answers with “I forgive you with all my heart,” which Mary clearly mouths in the movie. Her final words before the axe came down on her head were said to be, in Latin, “Into thy hands, O LORD, I commit my spirit,” similar to Christ’s last words before dying on the cross (Luke 23:46).

Persuasion 2007

I recently watched Persuasion 1995, starring Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds, for the first time a few days ago, and I was having a hankering for the 2007 version, directed by Adrian Shergold, and starring Sally Hawkins as Anne Elliot and Rupert Penry-Jones as Captain Frederick Wentworth.

Persuasion is my favorite Jane Austen work, and my esteem for the novel only grows each time I pick it up. The premise is simple: boy meets girl; boy and girl fall in love; girl is persuaded to reject boy; boy and girl part brokenhearted. Only Austen picks up the story 8 years later, when, after a lengthy separation, boy and girl cross paths by chance again. Of all Austen’s heroines, Anne’s situation appears the most hopeless; tormented with grief over her decision, she now, at 27 years old, has few prospects and no hope at all of ever seeing Captain Wentworth again—and when she does, it is only to be teased by his flirtation with Louisa and Henrietta and his declarations that above all he wants a woman of firm mind who is not easily persuaded. In the weeks that follow, the reader watches Anne, always in the background, it seems, easily forgotten by all but one, as her chances of happiness seems to ebb and wane, steadily like the tide, however, growing more and more hopeful. The 2007 adaptation was the first I saw of this story, and I immediately fell in love—and it was the first Austen adaptation that succeeded in producing a few tears from me. I watched it this time with a more critical eye, but was still very pleased with what I saw.

It is that emotional see-saw, that ebbing of the tides of hope, that I believe the 2007 film captures beautifully. Those moments when Captain Wentworth glances at Anne or eyes her over take the breath right out of you as much as they do for Anne. The Croft carriage scene is the moment I first felt wholeheartedly that Wentworth still cared deeply for Anne; when he inconspicuously leans into the carriage to encourage his sister to take Anne home, my heart melted. The sense that he is always in the background—thinking, calculating, deciphering, working—pervades through this film, just as Anne’s quiet presence in the shadows of scenes emphasize her attentive, desperately curious state.

The location shots of Bath and the Cobb at Lyme are gorgeous, though it one would almost have to try to visually screw those sort of scenes up. The 1995 version did a slightly better job of including more of Bath and Lyme, giving one the feeling that one is standing in these Georgian cities as they would have appeared to contemporary visitors, not merely how film producers like to portray them in costume dramas, in their pristine, almost painfully modern state, free of common folk and signs of average life. The extreme cleanliness of this film has a certain appeal to it, but I also found that I enjoyed the “ruggedness” of the 1995 adaptation.

Persuasion 2007 has its share of flaws, but by far they concern technicalities rather than deficits in acting. Oddly enough, as much as I love her role (as I mentioned in the birthday post, if I was given the opportunity to star in any costume drama role, past or present, I would chose Anne Elliot from Persuasion 2007), I feel that Sally Hawkins’s Anne may be the weakest character in the movie. It is Sir Walter with whom Jane Austen chose to open her final novel, and Anthony Head’s portrayal screams “vanity”; the scene he makes when greeting Lady Dalrymple at the Pump Rooms was perfect, as were his embarrassing reactions to the news of Admiral Croft and Anne’s visit to Mrs. Smith. Whereas Head’s performance is humorous, Amanda Hale’s as Mary Elliot is supremely annoying. I wondered what Louisa Musgrove could have meant when she said that Mary had a few good qualities—I could see none. Her nonsense was most trying. Julia Davis played Elizabeth Elliot, the quintessential favored eldest daughter, with ease, and her soreness at Mr. Elliot’s attentions to Anne smacks of the “Elliot Pride”—though why she should expect Mr. Elliot should care for her a lick with her unnatural hair is beyond me. Charles, Louisa, and Henrietta were all good, especially Charles, who embodies the outdoorsy, congenial Englishman. I love Rupert Penry-Jones as Captain Wentworth—there’s just something about him that says “I’m a sailor.” (I do wish they had a shot of him in his uniform!) Jane Austen’s Wentworth is a little more lighthearted, I think, but Penry-Jones does a good job of keeping with the more morose feel of the film, balancing agreeableness and charm with quiet contemplation and subdued conversation. I loved the tete-a-tetes between Harville and Wentworth that gave insight into Wentworth’s reasoning and heartache that the novel does not allow for—they might be my favorite scenes. Admiral and Mrs. Croft were a delight, and the Admiral’s amusement at the surfeit of looking glasses is perfect.

All that said, I felt Anne was the most unstable character. After watching the movie again, I may have to recant the statement I made in my review of Persuasion 1995 in which I said I preferred Sally Hawkins’s portrayal over Amanda Root’s. Let’s just say they each have their good qualities. 2007’s Anne has the meekness I prefer, save for the final scene in Bath where it appears she wants to devour Captain Wentworth. I’m not entirely certain of what I thought of it before, but that final kiss may just be the most painful in the Austen adaptation cannon. It must have been something more than minerals in that Bath water that give Anne such audacity, both in speech and action.

In general, the film’s greatest weakness is the the final Bath escapade—it’s a little too dramatic, even for a modern UK Austen adaptation. It is as if the producers realized that after wasting so much time with those awkward stare-into-the-camera shots from Anne, they now had two minutes to wrap up the Bath scenes and decided having her run about the streets like a loon was the only way to finish on time. And there was no way they could calmly and accurately divulge Mr. Elliot’s secrets with such a compressed schedule, so they had Nurse Rook perform a hallelujah miracle on the invalid Mrs. Smith so she could chase down the frantic Anne and warn her about the rake herself. Thankfully, someone with an iota of sense added in that charming final scene at Kellynch, wrapping up the previous crummy five minutes and salvaging the ending.

Also, they had the Elliot’s staying at No. 1 Royal Crescent, which isn’t even close to where Camden Place (now Camden Crescent) stands.

As with most adaptations, this one is too short. But for a 90 minute production, Persuasion 2007 does a very nice job with the story. It’s a film I will never tire of watching Oh, and the music is splendid! I so wish there was a soundtrack one could purchase from this film; it compliments the emotional atmosphere of the movie perfectly. I give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Gaunt House (Vanity Fair 2004)

“All the world knows that Lord Steyne’s town palace stands in Gaunt Square…”

—Vanity Fair, Ch. XXXXVII

In Vanity Fair, Gaunt House is the residence of the slimy Lord Steyne, the creep who tantalizes Becky Sharp with status and riches and jewels galore, leading the social climber dangerously close to indiscretion—where she hosts scandalous parties with her benefactor, entertains the Prince Regent with a brazen exotic dance, and lets Lord Steyne toy with her until she loses her dashing Rawdon Crawley forever  In the beautiful 2004 adaptation, the London home of Lord Steyne (played by Gabriel Byrne) was created using two different locations, Wrotham Park for the interiors, and interestingly enough, Bath’s Holburne Museum of Art for the exteriors.

Wrotham Park has already been briefly discussed in a post about Norland Park, for which it served in Sense & Sensibility 2008:

The home chosen to play the Dashwood’s family seat in the 2008 BBC adaptation of Sense & Sensibility was Wrotham Park, a 2,800 acre estate just 17 miles north of Hyde Park, in Hertfordshire. Relative to many houses used in films, Wrotham Park is not especially old, dating back to 1754, which accounts for its Palladian design (an architectural style seen in many of the Washington D.C. buildings and those designed by Thomas Jefferson, for when the style fell out of favor in Europe, it briefly surged in America). Admiral John Byng was its builder and owner, but whether he actually lived in the house is doubtful, for in 1757, shortly after a war expedition in Minorca, he was executed for negligence during that campaign. A descendant of the Admiral’s brother, Robert Byng, now owns and occupies the house.

The Dining Room, the Entrance Hall, and the Drawing Room all make appearances in Vanity Fair.

Bath stood in for London in this film, but the characteristic honey-colored limestone makes it hard to imagine it as anything other than Bath; after a couple minutes, my imagination stopped fighting and decided to pretend that the Crawley’s, Sedley’s, and Osbourne’s all lived in Bath. Anyway, Bath’s Holburne Museum of Art stands in the Sydney Pleasure Gardens (sadly, the only remaining 18th-century pleasure gardens in all of England)and occupies the north end of Great Pulteney Street, and served as the exteriors for Gaunt House. The building was originally built as the Sydney Hotel in 1795-6. A Sir William Holburne retired to a house at 10 Cavendish Crescent (north of the Royal Crescent off Cavendish Drive) after serving as a sailor in the Napoleonic Wars, and during his time in Bath collected over 4000 works, which included impressive Old Master works and a Susini sculpture that once belonged to Sun King Louis XIV, among other things. The collection has been expanded by 2500 works over the years and now features a number of pieces by Gainsborough, Bath’s famous resident painter, and a miniature of Bath’s patron and first Master of Ceremonies, the fashionable Richard “Beau” Nash who revitalized the run-down town into the hip spa destination of the Georgian Era. In 1893, the Cavendish Square collection was moved into the old Savings Bank Building on Charlotte Street, and in 1913, moved again to its final place at the Sydney House, where Holburne’s sister had originally wished it to be located. In 1916, the Holburne Museum in Sydney Pleasure Gardens was opened. Read more about the history of the collection and Sir William Holburne here.

One of the interior galleries of the museum is used in the film; Lord Steyne hits on Becky on the balcony, overlooking the painfully beautiful Great Pulteney Street, and they then move indoors, where Francis Sharp’s painting The Virtue Betrayed hangs on the wall. For more on Great Pulteney’s role in Vanity Fair, check out this bit here.

Jane Austen actually lived quite close to the Holburne House from 1801-1805, at 4 Sydney Place.

The Holburne Museum of Art is currently closed until late 2010 for extensive renovations. With a significant grant from the Heritage Lottery Funds, repairs will restore the museum to it’s original splendor (as Lord Steyne would have kept it); new galleries will be added to alleviate the crowding of works (a good problem to have, I suppose), and a major exhibition gallery will be added; the museum’s library will be moved into a new space in the museum, making its contents available to visitors; and a cafe open to the outside environs will be added, among other things. The iconic front facade will remain intact, but in a literal interpretation of mixing old and new, the rear you see in the picture above will be replaced with a terribly modern glass box. Yuck.

Factual Imagining is 1!

Today is FI’s 1st birthday!!! Since it’s conception on August 4th, 2008, when getting 10 views a day was cause for celebration, FI has received 35,324 views and has won an “Excessively Diverting Blog Award!” Thanks to all the people who leave comments and visit regularly—you guys are awesome! I hope this blog’s second year will be as great and fun as the first.

In honor of this momentous occasion, I am giving away 2 scrumptious costume dramas: BBC’s 2009 Tess of the d’Urbervilles, starring Gemma Arterton, Hans Matheson, and Eddie Redmayne, and ITV’s 2008 Pride & Prejudice spoof Lost in Austen, starring Jemima Rooper and Elliot Cowan.

Actually, these DVDs have sat unwatched on my shelf since last Christmas. Why? Well, silly me, I asked for them for Christmas, and my parents ordered them from the UK, since they were not yet available over here. Did I stop to think that I would have to buy a multi-region DVD player in order to play my new DVDs? No. So, these are Region 2 DVDs, which means they will only play on Region 2 or multi-region (or region-free) players. I have the US versions now, and these DVDs (freed from their plastic wrappers—I was curious to see what the inside looked like—but otherwise untouched) are free to a new home. What better time to give them away than FI’s first birthday!

If you still want them, all you have to do is leave a comment by August 31 responding to the question below. I will then put everyone’s name in a hat, and draw one winner for both DVDs. I will cover shipping.

If you could star as any English costume drama character (past or present), who would it be?

My answer? Anne Elliot in Persuasion 2007 (played by the extraordinary Sally Hawkins). Anne is my favorite Brit Lit heroine, and who wouldn’t want to run around Bath in Regency garb? (Not to mention kiss that dashing Captain Wentworth? )