Le tour d'écrou (1975)
I wanted to watch this film very much, because, you know, Joffrey de Peyrac as Peter Quint is weird enough to make one at least mildly interested! (Sorry, I meant Robert Hossein. :))
Le tour d'écrou was filmed for TV in 1975* by the director Raymond Rouleau (who also adapted another Henry James novella, The Aspern Papers, in 1971, and directed The Turn of the Screw episode in the TV series Nouvelles de Henry James, to name just a couple of his works). It is a calm, pretty accurate adaptation, rather slow-paced and reminding one of a theatre play.
The plot: Lord Arthur is looking for a responsible governess to take care of his little orphaned nephew and niece. The funny old maid called Miss Elisabeth Guiddens proves a worthy candidate: she is experienced and claims to love children. Moreover, she is the only one to agree to the hard terms: never trouble the master about anything. So she goes off to the country, to perform heroic deeds for the sake of her hopeless love for the master: not only to educate the children all alone (which is brave enough), but also to confront the ghosts of the previous caretakers who seem to menace the peace of the children's minds even from beyond the grave. A note: Miss is the only one to ever see the ghosts. Has she imagined them?
The governess (Suzanne Flon) is, in her way, unique. It seems that the director consciously chose an actress of a certain age rather than a young girl. As a result, she is moving as a sad neurotic spinster, who, quite ridiculously, falls in love with the man she saw only once in her life and more, is ready to dedicate her life to the fulfillment of his wish.
It is also the most emotional governess I have ever seen. I cannot say if it is the Gallic temperament or something, but it is remarkable how strongly Suzanne Flon's heroine reacts to every event and every piece of (gruesome) news. She trembles visibly, wrings her hands, flies into a temper and becomes hysterical alarmingly quickly. All of that always looks very natural: the actress handles the role well. I hesitate to say that the governess did lose her mind in the end: it is more like a nervous breakdown, set off by - who knows what? The supernatural happenings? The over-rich fantasy life? Overreaction? A certain ambiguity remains.
Just a little more of this peculiar character...
Trying to do her job well
At the very beginning, stupidly happy
Interrogating Miles
And these three stills shows how she reacts to news about Quint and Jessel:
Thinks everything will still be alright
Feeling a queen (watching the children's theatre performance)
Defying Quint
Proceeding to other characters...
The children in this film seem to me hardest to imagine as prematurely wise corrupted creatures - especially Flora, who looks 100% sane.
The governess has strange ideas about Flora: for instance, she sees this freckled, grinning face as 'fine' and exquisite...
... which casts doubts on Miss Elisabeth's ability to see things as they really are.
Personal impressions may be deceiving, but mine is that Flora is an absolutely normal child who loves fairy-tales and legends, merry adventures and jokes.
Even the grief from the loss of her ex-governess Miss Jessel is like a game: she jumps around, picking up flowers; then sings a merry counting-out rhyme (!) before Miss Jessel's tombstone; then throws the flowers carelessly on top of the stone and dances away to church.
Flora prays
This sunny Pollyanna or Pippi Longstocking, a creepy possessed old woman in a child's body? You don't fool me.
Miles is also okay, although he is deeper: sometimes sad, sometimes cunning, but, all in all, just a boy. An interesting fact: Mrs Grose says that he is very sensitive and was frequently ill last year (that is, the year Quint died). That could mean that he reacts strongly to stressful events and takes things close to heart. (The governess should have remembered and tried not to scare him!)
He is also secretive, and it is highly probable that he is still hurt by the death of Quint who sort of cared for him, being a substitute for a father after all. Miles is older than Flora, and his loss must have been more deeply felt. All of that is within the boundaries of the natural.
There is only one disturbing scene, when he takes a knife and pretends that he is going to take away a tortoise's shell ('let's look what's inside!'), but it looks more like a cruel boyish prank, and, after all, the viewer never knows if he actually did it. Well, it takes a great deal of imagination from me to suggest that the boy is possessed, though of course he is a more 'difficult' child than his sister.
The ghosts struck me as singularly unhappy. Both of them. I don't know what they wanted: most likely, just some recognition or pity. Or they were just hanging around and not enjoying it. Quint has a tormented look about him, and Miss Jessel seems suffering with her every move. It is impossible not to pity Miss Jessel. (Not for our devoted governess with a mission, of course! At one moment, she eyed Quint very nastily and threw a cushion at him; and as for Miss Jessel, she called her a miserable woman with such a contemptuous air that - well, you should see Jessel's hurt expression!)
I also liked it how the governess meets both of them on the stairs (not at the same time!). Quint goes up, and when he disappears into the darkness, Miss Jessel suddenly materialises below the governess, and goes down - so the two ghosts never meet. Nicely done: unpredictable enough to make one jump together with the governess, and in tune with the fact that, as a reviewer said, Quint and Jessel's was a tragic love affair. (Somehow I can't buy other directors' ideas about ghosts having a nice shag from time to time.)
I must say the actors' performance seem very good to me, with every one of them conveying the essence of their respective characters really well. Everything in place. It refers even to secondary figures like Mrs Grose and the Master.
A cold aristocrat, used to having things his way
A simple and sturdy housekeeper, hardly competent in anything beyond her mental reach. Sometimes she seems as sensitive as a piece of furniture: a talking wardrobe. One cannot ask too much of her.
The cast's conscientious acting is a good enough thing, and to add to the effect, the camera often makes use of a close-up on their eyes, sometimes with a stunning impact.
Here it must be said that the governess, although not young and plain (and Suzanne Flon was never particularly pretty), has really beautiful eyes.
More imagery
A recurring image is that of water slowly dripping into a funnel-shaped vessel.
I must sidestep and say here that the legend Flora tells Miss on the day of her arrival is that of the fée Mélusine (!!!). Those who ever read Philippa Gregory's The White Queen will understand my inner yell: Aaargh, not Melusina again, please! And are Flora's ancestors from the Lusignan family? The girl says that there is a mermaid living in their lake, who guards the family and appears once a month. Flora dreams of seeing her.
The linked legend of the fairy Mélusine could definitely enrich the given story. For instance, it contains some elements referring to children's unhappy fate (most of her children were deformed - monsters; in some versions of the story, her children died one after another; and there is the saying, "Melusina is crying for her children" (see here). Is Miles a doomed child?
A woman's strange singing is heard here from time to time.
Mélusine's element of water is also relevant here to the plot. Those drops we see falling into the glass after each dramatic turn of events (turn of the screw) intensify the growing tesion. One asks oneself, why does not the water overflow, the cup is almost full?
It does, only at the very end.
The drowned Miss Jessel, the only siren of the pond we actually see
(Slightly spoiler-ish?) The last image is strong: a huge dark house with an only lighted window. The voice of the governess tells us that the little heart has stopped. The light is then extinguished. Total blackness.
The charming castle
In all adaptations, there is some beautiful mansion 'playing' the part of Bly House, but this castle just has my heart. It looks so deliciously French - although it may well exist somewhere else, in Belgium or wherever. I could not find out in what locations Le tour d'écrou was filmed! That is a source of great woe for me :), because I'd love to -
- enter here -
- climb this staircase -
- look down from this balcony -
- have a walk at this pond -
- or in the shade of this wall -
- wander through these corridors -
- feed those -
- and so on. If it is a tourist place, that is - then I could dream of visiting it one day. There is something endearing about it.
The interiors are also to be admired:
And never did Quint appear at a more picturesque turret:
What is it called? If anyone knows, tell me! I looked for it through Images Google, but got no results: maybe not a well-known tourist attraction, after all.
Curiosities
- An anachronism that made me smile: the song that Flora sings in her 'angelic voice' is no other than Malo by Benjamin Britten! (Meanwhile, the governess is harbouring dark thoughts, suspecting both children of deceit and betrayal.)
- Miles's ultimatum to the governess takes place near the church. It is a nice touch that she is sitting right near Quint and Jessel's graves, noticing it only after Miles goes away. Like, they are always there, you can just fail to see them at once. ;)
Note: Quint died on May 15. (Fell on an icy road in winter?? Hmmm. More likely, assassinated as Mrs Grose hints.) Miss Jessel survived Quint for three months.
- I wonder if Quint's buttons correspond to the period: somehow I always thought Victorian buttons should be covered with cloth. I confess I am too tired now to investigate into that; will see into it later.
- The general picture is luscious, but always dark. I cannot know if it could be due to technical quality or it is meant to be so, in muted colours. Anyway, it creates a fitting mood.
- Lastly, it must be admitted that the film, like many other adaptations, owes much to The Innocents: many lines in the script, the whole storyline with Miss Jessel drowned, a tortoise... not to mention the governess's surname.
- * Although IMDB, a source I count for a sufficiently reliable one, marks the film with 1974, the titles say: 1975. So I prefer to believe the titles.
Not a 'must' for everyone; quite a peculiar film. Somehow it is rather prosaic and takes away any excessive drama, leaving 'just the life as it is'. It is like: what, you imagined and maybe even saw films with a beautiful heroic princess in an enchanted Castle of Evil Doom, with heinous crimes, possessed little aristocrats and diabolically powerful ghosts? Now sit down, watch this film and see how it really was!
Although some decisions may seem questionable, and it certainly has its faults, the French film is nevertheless done with altogether much better taste, tact, and understanding than some British and American adaptations.