Guest Posts: Ted Finchley Reams the Dickens out of Modern Television Adaptations of Dickensian Literature

My good friend Mr Finchley, a not-so-recently-retired scientist type, has long spent his free time exercising his creative side. However, it seems to me, his work in the visual arts has left little room for working in writing.  I have always assumed this was due to technical burn-out:  he had to spend a certain amount of time in his work writing, and while there is a skill involved in good technical writing, it always seemed to be a joyless task.


Perhaps enough time has now passed from his glory days of writing about wires and diodes and airplanes and other occasionally snore-worthy things that he has been able to find the joy in the creative power of words.


Or, perhaps it was just that the destructive power held within the visual arts, much like that within an atom, once unleashed on something sacred, spurred him to action.


Mr Finchley, whatever your inciting incident, we are glad of it, and we hope to read more from you, because as far as I'm concerned, the definitive TV version of Great Expectations was by Wishbone.

Television Movies Are Ruining Dickens

Charles Dickens' stories typically, and loosely, follow an ordinary hero and his heroine through an often complex thread of circumstances surrounded by the most fascinating characters imaginable traipsing through their own adventures.  The hero and heroine are typically hum-drum, only providing the glue that holds the stories together.  In the past, television has brought us excellent presentations of some of Dickens' stories by developing his characters to the full. 

Television gave us a superb, self-absorbed Pecksniff and an under-handed tyrant, Jonas Chuzzlewit, in Martin Chuzzlewit; yet the hero, Martin himself, was portrayed as dull—just as Dickens intended. 

A treacherous Uriah Heep lit up the screen in David Copperfield with his overboard, insincere humility; Steerforth, as David's friend, is despicable (I hated him from the first to the last); while David and his dumb Dora simply went through the motions—just as Dickens intended.

So, several television presentations of Dickens' stories have been excellent. 

Alas, more recently, what started my blood boiling was the mindless white-washing of the despicable dwarf, Quilp, in The Old Curiosity Shop—perhaps Dickens' most detestable, interesting and downright ugly character (worse even than Bill Sykes).  Instead of the wretch Dickens intended, Quilp was portrayed as no more than a short, ordinary-looking money-lender.   The movie ignored the fantastic side-plot involving the murderous Quilp, and instead over-stressed the necessary, yet less entertaining, gambling habit of the grandfather.

This past week, Mrs. Finchley and I watched the latest rendition of Great Expectations.  I don't understand why some “artists” think they can present Dickens' stories in ways that suit their inner creativity—or perhaps in ways they think the viewers want and expect; shudder.  Such blasphemous approaches must have Dickens painfully rolling over in his grave, if such a thing really could happen.  Oh, the scenery on the lowlands was fabulous, but where was Biddy, with her unselfish devotion to Mrs. Joe and her quiet and dedicated love for Joe?  Mr. Wopsle, with his supposed fabulous gift of public speaking didn't read his newspaper to his “fans”; nor did Pip  see him fail later as an actor on the London stage.  I saw no Trabb's boy with his hateful envy of Pip.  Pumblechook appeared, very well costumed for the part, but as a side issue instead, as Dickens intended, of the two-faced loser who constantly took credit for, and bragged about, initiating Pip's expectations.  And Jaggers’ clerk Wemmick:  what a jewel in the book; what a disappointment in the movie.  We briefly saw the two sides of Wemmick as he left the office, discarded his tie, and Jaggers’ leash, and went off with Herbert and Clara; but nothing about the kind and good-hearted Wemmick who invited Pip regularly into his little castle with its drawbridge and vegetable garden.  No mention of Wemmick, Pip and the Aged (Wemmick senior) as they slathered themselves in butter, joyfully and blissfully eating their breakfast toast.  Poor David Suchet, what a shame he wasn't allowed to develop his character as Jaggers; what a waste; enough said.  Then there was Miss Havisham, not the one in the book, but the constantly whining one portrayed by our Emmy award winner Gillian Whats-her-name: a fine portrayal, but not of the granite hard and hateful Miss Havisham.  Finally, we must address the portrayals of the hero and heroine.  Mrs. Finchley hit the nail on the head when she voiced my observation:  Pip was much prettier than Estella.  For that matter, Estella wasn't pretty at all; did the director expect her stunning blue eyes to make her desirable?  As Miss Havisham’s protégée, she worked hard at being undesirable but not irresistible.  How can a viewer expect to feel the incredible passion on Pip’s part, and the crusty iciness on Estella’s part, when the characters don't act the parts, or even look the part? 

Well, I suppose one thing was consistent in this latest Great Expectations with my first paragraph:  the hero and heroine were hum-drum.  But perhaps, the worst, and most disappointing part of the latest production of Great Expectations, was that the movie centred totally around the boring hero and heroine; not on the fascinating characters.  Simply put, not as Dickens intended. 

Read Dickens.

Seriously,

Ted Finchley

13 April 2012