The French Lieutenant's Woman

I have only seen this film once, about 20 years ago, when I was in my mid teens. It intrigued me then, but went completely over my head. I could dimly perceive grand themes in it, but couldn't bring them into focus. A few years ago a friend gave me a John Fowles book to read, "The Magus" and this caused me to re-evaluate this film entirely. For me, the story's strength does not lie in anything definite. It's main themes are suggestion and allegory. The creative role of the mind in human perception is very clearly depicted in "The Magus" and this is central to TFLW too. The 2 central characters, in their modern guises are caught up in this, as the audience is expected to be. Perhaps there is no central message to be understood ... maybe a viewer should just be delighted by the parallels which are revealed by telling these 2 stories in this way ...

I loved The French Lieutenant's Woman. The film-within-the-film is more than just an experimental device - it is actually a key feature of how the film works and part of what makes it so fascinating and enjoyable. Harold Pinter, who wrote the screenplay and has a Nobel Prize for Literature, should be given some credit for knowing what he is doing. The two stories in the film are juxtaposed to provide intriguing contrasts and comparisons. At first, I found myself thinking that the point was to show how much easier and more uncomplicated sexual relationships are in the twentieth century, but as the story develops, and as more entanglements obstructing their happiness are revealed, I began to realize that the film may really be trying to show that we are not so different from the Victorians after all: we have our own obsessions, repressions and frustrations. A happy middle-class family proves to be as much of an obstacle to sexual gratification and fulfilment as hypocritical Victorian morality. A warning: there is no point watching this film for visible and clearly expressed emotion and a satisfyingly romantic representation of love in this film, since it makes a point of resisting that by focusing on the characters' awkward and embarrassing fumblings, and by deliberately avoiding all the clichés of period drama. The inclusion of the contemporary story line actually helps us to distance ourselves from the Victorian plot rather than drawing us into it, and makes Jeremy Irons's proposal at the beginning, or the love scene in Exeter between him and Streep, more comic and ridiculous, than volcanic and romantic. But that is the point, isn't it? Period films have a tendency to ignore how bizarre sexuality was in the past, and by romanticizing and familiarizing it, make it more easy for us to consume now. But there was no such thing as "normal" sexuality in Victorian Britain, because, as the statistic about London prostitutes in the film shows, they were all far too screwed up. And maybe we are not so different these days. It's not as if the sex industry has got any smaller since then. It's not a conventional period romance, but if you want something a little more thoughtful and interesting than that, then you will hugely enjoy this film. Apart from anything else, it has two great performances from Jeremy Irons and Meryl Streep. Streep in particular is spectacularly mysterious and alluring as the object of Irons's sexual obsession. Great film.

This film is a joy to watch -- as not many films these days are. The settings are superbly created -- the green, grotto-like woodland where Irons and Streep meet in the Victorian world of the film, the murky streets of Lyme, Exeter, and London, and the interior of the lawyer's office, for example. The Victorian part of the film emerges from the dawning of the concept of abnormal psychology (just before Freud) and is really convincing. Streep shows us that her character cannot move on emotionally until she has worked out her own madness. That constitutes a remarkable and complex performance of insanity and self-awareness inhabiting a single psyche. She earns the gentle movement out of the tunnel and onto the calm lake. The turbulence of the unconscious -- that threatening sea of which Irons has warned her -- has been subdued. Seems to me the flaw lies in the 'modern story' (as some here have pointed out). It may be that the Streep character is trying to find a subtext for her fictional heroine, but it looks like the old ennui, so that, while her lack of concern for the relationship is understandable, his obsession with it is not. Though the garden party at the end almost gets it there. Were we shown her decision there? If so, I missed it. I like the concept of the 'two endings' and their contrast, but the ending in the 20th century was a so what? The one in the 19th century was complex and included much of the pain that the relationship had caused both characters. A little more attention to the contemporary love affair -- to suggest that it was more than just a romp on location -- would have helped that dimension of the film per se and also suggested what the Victorian lovers had earned within their Hardyesque world.

Haunting environments, two of the century's greatest film actors, one of the half-dozen or so best modern playwrights and Fowles' experiment in parallel narratives. Fowles' work was pale compared to Nabokov's "Pale Fire," for instance in building a convoluted, layered narrative, but is comparable in extent. Here, Pinter's obsession with time refines the vision -- his "Proust Screenplay," also centered on layered time, is much studied and admired.

Everything clicks here. Gorton's designs are detailed and hypnotizing, especially the use of the Lyme groin and related tunnel-like streets. Francis' camera (after "Elephant Man") captures a dim grey sky, made sharp in modern sequences. With the director, they have contrived to quote great paintings. In particular, the first shot after the three year search when Irons gets the telegram directly and obviously references a famous Monet painting -- in fact the first impressionistic painting, a turning point in the artist's perspective. Davis' music -- the only thing that spans time -- supports.

And Meryl is lovely, but so different in each role. We really wonder if her modern madness created the modern affair in quest of the perfect chemistry for the Sarah role It makes Sarah's imagination deeper and more self-referential than in the book. One scene is uniquely masterful: the modern actors "walk" through a scene, then they do it again. Streep turns on, "steps into" the role and becomes Sarah, and a moment later, she pulls the whole scene into the past. This will stick with you, I promise.

The director, Reisz, is supposed to have suggested the concept to Pinter, and then attracted the very best. His tightness of vision is apparent. I wish he were still making films. In a sense he is: he literally "wrote the book" on modern film editing.

There are wide extremes of opinion expressed on this board about this film. The film certainly has defects, but they pale when compared to its achievements. It is a tour de force of the cinematic art. The switching between Victorian and Modern eras is seamlessly announced by tone, costume and manerism of character. Meryl Streep's depiction of two women, in differing circumstances and, more importantly, different times is intellectually challenging. But if you do not connect with her fragile appeal or Jeremy Irons soulful searching for fulfillment, as two very different characters, then this will be lost on you. While technically this is film making at its finest, ultimately it is a love story. You either feel for the characters or you don't.