A Handful of Dust (B- or 2.5/4 stars)
This sleek-looking, well acted, but - for me - slightly unsatisfying 'A Handful of Dust' (directed by Charles Sturridge) is a 1988 film version of Evelyn Waugh's provocative 1934 novel. In the early 1930s at the sprawling Victorian Gothic estate Hetton Abbey, the upstanding aristocrat, Tony Last (James Wilby), upholds the very traditional image of class & heritage by his seemingly solid marriage to Brenda (Kristin Scott Thomas) & to their young son. When one of his well-connected, but definitively lower-class friends, John Beaver (Rupert Graves), invites himself over for the weekend, Tony & Brenda accept him. Beaver is a penniless mama's boy and, his mother, Mrs. Beaver (Judi Dench), who makes $$ in real estate rentals, views Brenda as revenue.
Beaver & Brenda enter an illicit affair with clueless Tony paying for an apartment that Mrs. Beaver rents to his adulterous wife. When tragedy befalls the Lasts, Brenda asks for a divorce and, chivalrous Tony - not wanting Brenda to endure shame - hires P.I.'s to catch HIM with another woman so that Brenda can 'properly' take legal action. But when Brenda's lawyer asks for an enormous settlement, Tony realizes he would have to sell his beloved family estate; something he simply will not do. The divorce is called off - leaving Brenda in ruins - and Tony heads off to exotic Brazil on an impulsive scientific expedition. There, he falls ill & is saved by jungle recluse/eccentric, Mr. Todd (Alec Guinness), who agrees to nurse Tony to health on the strict condition that Tony read to him {he is illiterate} the entire Charles Dickens canon. The way Mr. Todd gradually reveals Last's fate is quietly devastating.
'A Handful of Dust' is one of those very proper, very literate, very 'stuffy', dripping-with-opulence British period pieces in the vein of Merchant/Ivory ... that I absolutely adore. The complex characters, meticulous production designs, plush 1930s atmosphere, and Academy Award-nominated costumes by Jane Robinson all aid the proceedings. That said, there is something so politely, so softly callous about how everyone treats each other in this story that I simply could not grab much admiration from it. I witnessed exceptional visuals & heard great lines of dialogue spewed from superb actors, but the tale is so precipitously downbeat that I found it hard to literally enjoy the 118 minutes of casual cruelty coming from nearly every character unto each other.
Rupert Graves is stellar as the likeable gentleman with no $$ who makes it a habit of being permanent guests in people's fabulous country homes; he worms his way in as snake charmer AND snake. Judi Dench, who won a BAFTA award for her Supporting role here, is excellent as John Beaver's mother; always looking for an advantage to social climb in disingenuous ways. Kristen Scott Thomas excels as Brenda, the epitome of the cold, tactless wife & mother who wants what she wants & gets what she wants until she doesn't ... and then finds her way, anyway. James Wilby, hot off of his great starring turn in Merchant & Ivory's Maurice, is very good as unknowing Tony, whose constant ability to be tricked leads him to ruin. And Anjelica Huston rivets in a small role as a visiting American lady who tells Tony exactly what he needs to hear about his deceitful wife. Tony's then handing Brenda her comeuppance is satisfying, if also short-lived.
This is a strange little film & a strange one to critique. In any other novel, a story like this would end in acceptable dramatic terms. Instead, the story ends in a squall of ironic cynicism. The characters here are employed as props to show how the once trusting tradition of aristocratic Brits can give way quite easily to a new class of selfish, greedy individuals who couldn't care less about tradition or decorum. Whenever dialogue doesn't overtly show how monstrous these people are, the performances from the actors convey that monstrosity extremely well. Here is a film that - for better or worse {mileage varied with me} - shows how cruelty in human beings does not even need to have guns or violence involved in order to level someone to the ground.
Beaver & Brenda enter an illicit affair with clueless Tony paying for an apartment that Mrs. Beaver rents to his adulterous wife. When tragedy befalls the Lasts, Brenda asks for a divorce and, chivalrous Tony - not wanting Brenda to endure shame - hires P.I.'s to catch HIM with another woman so that Brenda can 'properly' take legal action. But when Brenda's lawyer asks for an enormous settlement, Tony realizes he would have to sell his beloved family estate; something he simply will not do. The divorce is called off - leaving Brenda in ruins - and Tony heads off to exotic Brazil on an impulsive scientific expedition. There, he falls ill & is saved by jungle recluse/eccentric, Mr. Todd (Alec Guinness), who agrees to nurse Tony to health on the strict condition that Tony read to him {he is illiterate} the entire Charles Dickens canon. The way Mr. Todd gradually reveals Last's fate is quietly devastating.
'A Handful of Dust' is one of those very proper, very literate, very 'stuffy', dripping-with-opulence British period pieces in the vein of Merchant/Ivory ... that I absolutely adore. The complex characters, meticulous production designs, plush 1930s atmosphere, and Academy Award-nominated costumes by Jane Robinson all aid the proceedings. That said, there is something so politely, so softly callous about how everyone treats each other in this story that I simply could not grab much admiration from it. I witnessed exceptional visuals & heard great lines of dialogue spewed from superb actors, but the tale is so precipitously downbeat that I found it hard to literally enjoy the 118 minutes of casual cruelty coming from nearly every character unto each other.
Rupert Graves is stellar as the likeable gentleman with no $$ who makes it a habit of being permanent guests in people's fabulous country homes; he worms his way in as snake charmer AND snake. Judi Dench, who won a BAFTA award for her Supporting role here, is excellent as John Beaver's mother; always looking for an advantage to social climb in disingenuous ways. Kristen Scott Thomas excels as Brenda, the epitome of the cold, tactless wife & mother who wants what she wants & gets what she wants until she doesn't ... and then finds her way, anyway. James Wilby, hot off of his great starring turn in Merchant & Ivory's Maurice, is very good as unknowing Tony, whose constant ability to be tricked leads him to ruin. And Anjelica Huston rivets in a small role as a visiting American lady who tells Tony exactly what he needs to hear about his deceitful wife. Tony's then handing Brenda her comeuppance is satisfying, if also short-lived.
This is a strange little film & a strange one to critique. In any other novel, a story like this would end in acceptable dramatic terms. Instead, the story ends in a squall of ironic cynicism. The characters here are employed as props to show how the once trusting tradition of aristocratic Brits can give way quite easily to a new class of selfish, greedy individuals who couldn't care less about tradition or decorum. Whenever dialogue doesn't overtly show how monstrous these people are, the performances from the actors convey that monstrosity extremely well. Here is a film that - for better or worse {mileage varied with me} - shows how cruelty in human beings does not even need to have guns or violence involved in order to level someone to the ground.