“Vanity Fair” (1998)

The 1998 adaptation of W. L. Thackeray's Vanity Fair is the latest in the series of BBC adaptations of classic literature that I have been devouring; its script was produced by the selfsame Andrew Davies who adapted that Middlemarch I reviewed earlier, though in truth this couldn't be more different from that, in terms of tone. 

For true to the book, Vanity Fair is a satire, or at least it is for its first two episodes; the last two fall more on the side of drama as Becky Sharp's schemes finally lead to grim consequences for everyone involved, her included, as the life she built for herself out of lies and manipulation starts to crumble — and the middle two episodes, therefore, fall somewhere in-between. A satire it is, and Marc Munden directs it as quite broad; he is unafraid to be vulgar (the first shot is of a woman picking her nose, for Rassilon's sake), and while I do not like this, I understand where he's coming from. Similarly, there's lots of unattractive close-up, and violent, fast-paced editing, and so on; the message is clear that this isn't one of yer well-polished pieces of Victoriana. I do think the viewing experience would be improved if this were toned down, but that does not mean it's done artlessly, nor that it makes the viewing truly unpleasant at all; everything else is plenty enough to carry the picture. 

The cast, as always in these things, is superb. Natasha Little as Rebecca “Becky” Sharp herself is a stellar effort, sufficiently charismatic to carry the series without compromising the fact that when push comes to shove, she is a very nasty piece of work underneath the varnish. I could go on and on about how well-cast and well-acted everyone is; I'll be content to mention David Bradley (Sir Pitt Crawley) and Jeremy Swift (Jos Sedley), for I had seen them both in other things before, and therefore I can appreciate that both show much more range than these previous outings of theirs led me to believe. It genuinely took me a moment to realize the coarse, warm-yet-threatening, grotesque Sir Pitt was the selfsame David Bradley whom I had seen as the distant, airheaded old scientist he played in Doctor Who and An Adventure in Space and Time; though it is closer to his bit part as Argus Filch in the Harry Potter pictures (and there's out quota of there being at least one HP actor in any given 1990's BBC production, by the way).

What else is there to mention? One thing, and one I am sorry to say it, but I must. The music is by Murray Gold, in one of his earlier efforts; Murray Gold, whose work on Doctor Who is among my favorite television soundtracks of the modern era, whose leitmotifs are ever so memorable and charming and fitting. It is also utterly dire. Only in very few (and uninspired) moments does Gold remember there are other instruments in the orchestra than brasses; and the rest of the time, he rehashes one endless, tango-esque theme that has bugger-all to do with the 1810's time period, and which one truly comes to loathe by the end of those punishing five-and-a-half hours of ear torture, for not only does it only very rarely fit the tone of what is onscreen, but the orchestra blares it out in a shrieking and utterly wretched fashion; it's badly-designed and that is one thing, but there is also the fact that it's very, very badly played. No hard feelings, Murray, I hope, but this is quite horrible. 

And I felt I had to tell the world, because Wikipedia informs me that some-ruddy-how, this aural hell of a soundtrack got nominated for a B.A.F.T.A. award back then. (Only nominated, thank the Nimon.)

Still, even Gold at his worst can't spoil a jolly solid piece of television; as a certain amusing, though sometimes unfair, video channel likes to repeat, “no movie is without sin”. All in all, I can but recommend the 1998 Vanity Fair, if you care to check it out. Just be warned that the music may not be everything one hopes for, and the direction takes some getting used-to. 

Post-Scriptum:

• It too took some getting used-to, but I can safely say in hindsight that I quite like the way this series does credits. It's very good for bingewatchers like myself, and saves us the agony of a few minutes of pure Bad Murray Gold.