It continues to astonish me that one of the Western world's most beloved novels has yet to be given a proper film adaptation. Having slogged through the previous film and television adaptations of "The Woman in White," I hoped that this 2018 miniseries from the BBC might be an improvement. Sadly, I was sorely disappointed yet again.
I never understand why screenwriters always feel the need to "improve" on Wilkie Collins's stories or tweak them to be more "accessible" to modern audiences. All his novels, particularly "The Woman in White," have more than enough plot and dialogue to make up an excellent film, and only need to be streamlined to better suit the medium. While the novel's original plot is followed more faithfully than either the 1997 or 1948 versions, rather than allow it to unfold in a linear fashion and let the mystery blossom before both the audience's and the main characters' eyes, the script jumps back and forth in time, using a frame story of various character giving their testimony to a lawyer investigating the case of Laura Glyde's death, a surprise that is ruined with the very first scene. A nice nod to Collins' use of multiple narrators, but the way it is used here disrupts the story's flow and saps any chance of mystery or suspense in the telling of it. I especially disliked how it was used to explain to the audience what they had just seen or were about to see, as if they were too stupid to understand otherwise. While a goodly amount original dialogue is left intact, too much is watered down into more modern-sounding language, which really ruins the sense of historical authenticity. Additionally, many of the story's most memorable moments are cut down or removed entirely in favor of new scenes that add nothing to the story or the plot but distraction.
While I suppose it is a result of today's generation having no understanding of history or any kind of appreciation for subtlety, the production overall feels too modern and more telegraphed than I was hoping for. All the characters blurt out exactly what they are thinking, and even translate the subtext of the other character's dialogue. Talk about spoon-feeding your audience! The costumes are a terrible mix of clothes from the entire Victorian period, and the less said about the hairstyles the better. And when will filmmakers get it through their heads that "The Woman in White" is not a horror story? I agree with another reviewer that the constant "atmospheric" music and sound effects in the background are annoying, as is the insistence of maintaining a constantly creepy tone both visually and story-wise. Wilkie Collins was a master at creating suspense and tension by contrast, balancing big, dramatic events with small, more lighthearted moments. None of that is present here. With the tone unsettling and grim from the outset, and with no comic relief or breathers, the more shocking and suspenseful moments lose their impact, leaving the film limp and feeling much, much longer that it really is.
But what I found most galling was the complete desecration of the characters. Part of the reason "The Woman in White" has endured for almost 160 years is that Wilkie Collins created some of his most indelible characters for it; you grow to love them and genuinely care about what happens to them, even the bad ones. In some combination of bad screenwriting and bad casting, all the life has been sucked out of them, and they are neither engaging nor interesting. I know Marian as written is a modern woman with uncommon looks and intelligence, but the sight of Jessie Buckley, who seems to spend most of her time scowling, prancing around in trousers and drinking was just too much. Ben Hardy is simply too young to play Walter, and I couldn't believe it when I saw him lolling about in his shirt-sleeves, sans waistcoat and tie. Dougray Scott as Sir Percival is boring but marvelously unsubtle, with his every vice telegraphed from his first scene, which in destroying the mystery as to who will be the villain of the piece creates another: why is Marian so insistent that Laura marry him, a man who drinks and makes lecherous advances on women? And while I like Olivia Vinall as Laura, having her dressed in almost nothing but white negligees and running around with her hair constantly undone got on my nerves.
But the worst insult of all is the "reenvisioning" of Count Fosco. As a fat scoundrel, for lack of a better phrase, the Fosco of the novel is an entertaining contradiction who provides as much comic relief as he does menace. While I understand the decision to make him a bit younger and thinner in order to play up his attraction to Marian (something Collins so deftly alluded to in the book but that is made far too explicit here), Riccardo Scamarcio is dull and totally charmless, and far less compelling than he should be. He no longer has his animals, his fondness for tarts, and in Scamarcio's hands he is tone-deaf as well. Wilkie Collins must be turning over in his grave.
Boring, overlong, miscast, and far too modernized for my taste, I'm sorry I wasted five hours watching this travesty. While those unfamiliar with Collins' novel might enjoy this, anyone who loves the book should stay far away. The definitive adaptation still has yet to be made.
I never understand why screenwriters always feel the need to "improve" on Wilkie Collins's stories or tweak them to be more "accessible" to modern audiences. All his novels, particularly "The Woman in White," have more than enough plot and dialogue to make up an excellent film, and only need to be streamlined to better suit the medium. While the novel's original plot is followed more faithfully than either the 1997 or 1948 versions, rather than allow it to unfold in a linear fashion and let the mystery blossom before both the audience's and the main characters' eyes, the script jumps back and forth in time, using a frame story of various character giving their testimony to a lawyer investigating the case of Laura Glyde's death, a surprise that is ruined with the very first scene. A nice nod to Collins' use of multiple narrators, but the way it is used here disrupts the story's flow and saps any chance of mystery or suspense in the telling of it. I especially disliked how it was used to explain to the audience what they had just seen or were about to see, as if they were too stupid to understand otherwise. While a goodly amount original dialogue is left intact, too much is watered down into more modern-sounding language, which really ruins the sense of historical authenticity. Additionally, many of the story's most memorable moments are cut down or removed entirely in favor of new scenes that add nothing to the story or the plot but distraction.
While I suppose it is a result of today's generation having no understanding of history or any kind of appreciation for subtlety, the production overall feels too modern and more telegraphed than I was hoping for. All the characters blurt out exactly what they are thinking, and even translate the subtext of the other character's dialogue. Talk about spoon-feeding your audience! The costumes are a terrible mix of clothes from the entire Victorian period, and the less said about the hairstyles the better. And when will filmmakers get it through their heads that "The Woman in White" is not a horror story? I agree with another reviewer that the constant "atmospheric" music and sound effects in the background are annoying, as is the insistence of maintaining a constantly creepy tone both visually and story-wise. Wilkie Collins was a master at creating suspense and tension by contrast, balancing big, dramatic events with small, more lighthearted moments. None of that is present here. With the tone unsettling and grim from the outset, and with no comic relief or breathers, the more shocking and suspenseful moments lose their impact, leaving the film limp and feeling much, much longer that it really is.
But what I found most galling was the complete desecration of the characters. Part of the reason "The Woman in White" has endured for almost 160 years is that Wilkie Collins created some of his most indelible characters for it; you grow to love them and genuinely care about what happens to them, even the bad ones. In some combination of bad screenwriting and bad casting, all the life has been sucked out of them, and they are neither engaging nor interesting. I know Marian as written is a modern woman with uncommon looks and intelligence, but the sight of Jessie Buckley, who seems to spend most of her time scowling, prancing around in trousers and drinking was just too much. Ben Hardy is simply too young to play Walter, and I couldn't believe it when I saw him lolling about in his shirt-sleeves, sans waistcoat and tie. Dougray Scott as Sir Percival is boring but marvelously unsubtle, with his every vice telegraphed from his first scene, which in destroying the mystery as to who will be the villain of the piece creates another: why is Marian so insistent that Laura marry him, a man who drinks and makes lecherous advances on women? And while I like Olivia Vinall as Laura, having her dressed in almost nothing but white negligees and running around with her hair constantly undone got on my nerves.
But the worst insult of all is the "reenvisioning" of Count Fosco. As a fat scoundrel, for lack of a better phrase, the Fosco of the novel is an entertaining contradiction who provides as much comic relief as he does menace. While I understand the decision to make him a bit younger and thinner in order to play up his attraction to Marian (something Collins so deftly alluded to in the book but that is made far too explicit here), Riccardo Scamarcio is dull and totally charmless, and far less compelling than he should be. He no longer has his animals, his fondness for tarts, and in Scamarcio's hands he is tone-deaf as well. Wilkie Collins must be turning over in his grave.
Boring, overlong, miscast, and far too modernized for my taste, I'm sorry I wasted five hours watching this travesty. While those unfamiliar with Collins' novel might enjoy this, anyone who loves the book should stay far away. The definitive adaptation still has yet to be made.