Any Human Heart - Eines Menschen Herz

There's a section in the memoirs of the philosopher Bertrand Russell where he recalls an unexpected sexual encounter; he writes of it (in among weighty reflections on the meaning of life and the foundations of mathematics) with an almost puerile glee, like a child remembering being locked in the sweet shop. And there was something of the same tone - of baffled exultation, if you like - in a short story by the writer William Boyd, supposedly comprising a portion of the journals of a middle aged man called Logan Mountstewart (note the spelling), recounting a not dissimilar tale. Boyd must have enjoyed writing this, because a few years later he reconstructed the entire life of a renamed Mounstuart, in his novel 'Any Human Heart'. The author gave his character an accidentally interesting life, so that he happens to witness many key stories in 20th century history; but what really gives the book its quality is the believable nature of Logan's narrative voice.

As a television drama, it's not nearly so successful. Most obviously, Logan's own words are lost, leaving us the story without the commentary. In its place, tedious flashbacks, and scenes of an elderly Logan reviewing his life, just in case we had forgotten the plot. Secondly, television is a much less imaginative medium, and many drama series set over decades struggle to truly convey the passage of time. 'Our Friends in the North' was one that succeeded; this one does not. The random happenings in Logan's life no longer appear like chance events, retrospectively interesting, in a story driven by its own imperatives, but rather as implausible plot; instead of Logan making acquaintances who transpire to be famous, there's a feeling of shallow name-dropping (here he meets Hemmingway, there the Duchess of Windsor); and coincidences seem contrived when they're all there is. The background of ordinary life, behind which Boyd so successfully disguised his somewhat preposterous tale, is lost. I'm reminded of the disastrous television adaptation of 'A Dance to the Music of Time'; that was worse, as it compressed not one book but thirteen, but there's something of the same problem here. There are also other similarities, in the tale of an aristocratic writer in an where aristocracy is in decline. I didn't see the similarities when I read the book, but they are enhanced not just because of the televisual medium but for other reasons as well: the simplification of the character of Peter Scabius (making him an almost Widmerpool-style figure), and a reluctance to paint the world of Logan's youth in anything other than familiar 'Brideshead'-style colours. Related to the latter, the desire for a certain aesthetic has led the director to cast a stunningly beautiful woman in the role of almost everyone with whom Logan has an affair; the younger Logan is also very dashing, although the older Logan is allowed to age (he still has a final fling, however, with a very pretty French lady, and before that, with an attractive prostitute). While the original character had a messy personal life, there was never the feeling of perpetual glamour one gets when watching this production. To make it worse, we have to be shown Logan having sex with every one of them, an unimaginative and eventually tiresomely repetitive decision. What can be slyly implied in one line of a book becomes an endless succession of sweaty bodies, as if we couldn't be trusted to imagine it for ourselves.

This feels like a bitter review. But the book was good. It's become a series that is merely good looking; and sadly, utterly lacking in heart.

As someone who bounced around in the film and TV industry, I was enthralled with the spot on accuracy of this series. It captured that unique culture of celebrity and those who prosper on the periphery of fame and fortune. When Gloria put a fork in Mountstuart's hand, I knew I had seen a true cinematic moment of genius. Kim Cattrall is immortalized in this scene in Episode 3, as the most desirable of women who torment the sophisticated man. Important social record, great enjoyment and fun.

If you aren't Logan, you certainly recognize him in the milieu of the era that his character was created in the novel that inspired the series. Just surviving WWII was quite a feat for an Englishman. Surviving the heart-breaking loss of wife and child made all that followed in Logan's career story so true to those of us who were not far away at the time.

I have not read the story on which the series is based. To the extent that the filmed version aims to represent historical fact in linking fictional characters to real ones, it is successful. Whether the linkage is correct or appropriate is another matter. Some of the filmed elements ring true, while others seem disjointed -- almost as if the scriptwriter intends to play with the viewer's mind. Non-linear storytelling is often like that, aiming for contrivance rather than narrative.

Taken strictly as theater on film, it is a highly entertaining piece of work. The camera pursues the protagonist (as played by three different actors) with a compassionate yet critical eye, inviting the viewer to pass judgment on his character by selectively picking out key episodes irrespective of logical development leading to foregone conclusion. This can be a sometimes gut-wrenching experience, not suited to lazy acceptance of questionable motivation on the part of a flawed hero.

To put it simply, if there is any moral to the story it pales by comparison to a theme of accidental and ineluctable passages in the life of a minor player on the stage of history, enhanced by backdrops of larger-than-life public figures and horrific events from the twentieth century.

Watch it for great acting and superb cinematic design rather than mere pleasure.

William Boyd has shown himself to be one of the finest readers & chroniclers of the Human Condition writing today. It is almost a badge of honour that he has not won an award from one of the product placement companies. My first exposure to his work was a short-story called "The Persistence of Vision" - a perfect gem. Whenever I get depressed with the current offerings in the shops, I revert and, within seconds, I am transported. If I were to say that the life of Logan Mountstuart parallels my own to an almost spooky degree, it is not to say that I have played golf with some HRH & had my matches nicked. I have never jumped from an airplane or worked as a spy. One thing is certain: William Boyd is a far better writer than Ernest Hemingway ever was.

Today, like Logan Mountstuart, as I sort out photographs and ancient family papers, I find - often depressing - aspects of that earlier life, the appalling personal loss of a loved one, letters of despair. Here and there a picture drawn by a loved child.

As I said, Mountstuart is Everyman. He was not a bold boy; nor a bad man. He was easily led, but he is a good man; honourable, in a way that Peter Scabius was false. And so, Boyd leads us alongside this fallible man; while we, on occasion, find ourselves aching to say to him "Don't!" It would be better to read the book in the first instance; the screenplay follows the same sequence and one is more prepared for the jump-shifts in time. It is what I call a satisfying read; what I would like to write if I had the talent.

The acting is universally faithful to the characters, especially Matthew Mac Fadyean, who is utterly convincing & sympathetic.

If the producers are going to transfer this to DVD, please keep it intact, as they did in the excellent VHS version of "Armadillo" - which suffered badly in the compressed version, on DVD.

It is supremely gratifying to find that there is an audience who can relate to great drama; who have the patience to follow a complex storyline and debate its merits or otherwise. Sunday is going to seem empty when it ends.

Certainly very well made and exceptionally well-acted. An interesting story of a man's life and the trials and happiness he is subjected to. The main character seems often irrevocably drawn back to memories of his past, painful ones and the melancholy of happiness which has missed his grasp. Tom Hollander was incredible, the release he had in some of his scenes and his whole characterisation was immaculate. Matthew McFaddyn too was engaging. Exceptionally good dialogue too which is essential for any drama, or any comedy for that matter, to work. Intriguing insight into corruption and the way people in positions of power are able to twist the lives of those beneath them.