Alma rebelde

Reading the novel before seeing the movie, I had my own ideas about the characters of Miss Bronte's book. The movie leaves quite a bit of the story out, but dutifully makes up for it with a strong actors and incredible cinematography.

Joan Fontaine portrays the shy, demure Jane Eyre. (or is she?) I always believed this was the story of a woman forced to be what society felt a woman should be. Once Jane becomes the governess of Mr. Rochester's ward, she feels free to be the woman she truly is: strong-willed, opinionated and passionate.

Truly, they just don't make movies like this anymore. Not just a love story, this is a tale of finding oneself and realizing one's true destiny.

Watching Orson Welles and Joan Fontaine in this classic makes me wonder where all the good cinematographers have gone. Any comments from out there?

Jane Eyre is directed by Robert Stevenson who co-adapts the screenplay with John Houseman, Aldous Huxley and Henry Koster. Based on the Charlotte Brontë novel of the same name, it stars Orson Welles, Joan Fontaine and Peggy Ann Garner. Music is scored by Bernard Herrmann and George Barnes is the cinematographer.

After a harsh and eye opening childhood, orphan Jane Eyre gains employment at Thornfield Hall as governess to the young ward of Edward Rochester. A Difference in class and life outlook, Jane and Rochester are by definition polar opposites, but a bond exists, a bond that surely can't conquer the mysteries of Rochester the man, and the secret of his estate - can it?

Stevenson's version of the often filmed Jane Eyre has been pored over numerous times before, the constant question that arises is that of just how much input and work did Orson Welles have in the production? Knowing what we now know of Welles' 40s output, Jane Eyre undeniably has the Wellesian stamp all over it, with Fontaine herself quoted as saying the big man was often found behind the camera. This is not to decry Stevenson in any way, he himself would carve out a good career in directing further down the line, but this take on Brontë's famous novel shines because of Welles' presence in front and behind the camera.

With that comes one of only two quibbles with the film as a whole, namely it's Welles' portrayal of Rochester that dominates the film, and not that of Fontaine's Eyre. Which is quite staggering considering he doesn't enter the fray until 34 minutes into ty epic. The other problem, naturally, is that with a running time of just over an hour and thirty five minutes, it was never going to be a detailed adaptation of the novel. However, what exists is still an excellent mounted production, a film pulsing with aggressive atmospherics and simmering emotional passions.

It has been argued that the opposing acting styles of Fontaine and Welles are a distraction, I don't see it that way at all, as one of classic cinemas greatest voices emotionally spars with one of its most beautiful faces, this is monochrome gold dust. In mind of the difference of characters as written on the page, it actually comes off as inspired casting. With the production that surrounds them perfectly in keeping with the characters' state of mind.

The look is assuredly what would become known as film noir, with George Barnes' (Rebecca/Spellbound/Force of Evil) vivid black and white photography dovetailing splendidly with the matte paintings and Gothic set designs. It still amazes me to this day that this film was entirely produced on stage 2 at 20th Century Fox. So many images burn into the memory. From the shards of shadows that accompany young Jane as she stands on the punishment stool at Lowood Institution, put there by the despotic Henry Brocklehurst (a menacing Henry Daniell), to each chiaroscuro lit composition of Rochester in and around the oppressive like family home, the film has visual moodiness in abundance.

Herrmann's (The Devil and Daniel Webster/Citizen Kane) score is crucially in tune as well. Orchestral swirls to portray Jane's longing are counter pointed by the menacing down beats that attack the viewer for Rochester's bluster. Away from the two leads it's young Peggy Ann Garner who delivers the most telling performance. She gives the child version of Jane a sorrowful edge that sets the tone of the film, her early scenes with an uncredited Elizabeth Taylor (beautiful and effectively correct in vocals) are a lesson in child acting. The rest of the cast is filled out with admirable performances from Margaret O'Brien (Meet Me in St. Louis), John Sutton (Captain from Castille), Sara Allgood (The Lodger) and Agnes Moorehead (The Magnificent Ambersons).

This may not be a definitive Jane Eyre adaptation, and the compromised ending does knock it down a point, but all told it's still a top piece of classic cinema. 9/10

Stevenson isn't willing to let us forget that his film is based on a book. The first thing we see a leather-bound volume with the title "Jane Eyre" emblazoned on the cover; the book opens to reveal the film's credits exquisitely lettered on the opening pages. We're in danger of falling in love with the book as an object before the story even begins. By the time Joan Fontaine had finished reading out Brönte's opening paragraph, with the sentences themselves before me, I was in no mood to watch the movie - I wanted to go away and read the book.

Yet when it's not reminding us that it's at heart a version of something else, it's a very good film, falling not too far short of David Lean's "Oliver Twist" - which it resembles. Both films were shot almost entirely in the studio, yet don't feel studio-bound; they feel rather as though the directors had managed to find unusually claustrophobic out-of-door (or, in Lean's case, urban) locations. In both films a portion of every frame is consumed by impenetrable shadow. (Yet "Eyre" is detailed, and makes the best possible use of every frame.) Both films take place around in a callous England of the 1920s. (I got the impression that if Brönte's characters had for some reason gone to London they would have encountered Dickens's, although this impression was destroyed when the rich Londoners visit Rochester's castle.) Both films manage to be sentimental in an agreeable way. Both have excellent musical scores. In fact, this may be Herrmann's best score of the 1940s, certainly better than the one he wrote for "Citizen Kane", which is seems better than it is because the film as a whole is a masterpiece.

If you can, make sure you see a print with a pristine soundtrack. Orson Welles isn't always easy to understand.

Well, either Orson had a lot to do with this movie's production directly, or he had at least one early acolyte in director Robert Stevenson. A handful of Mercury Theatre/Kane actors holdover here, as well as a score by the great Bernard Herrman.

It's hard to describe which is the most jaw-dropping surprise in this movie: the Kane-esque gothic expressionism of the cinematography, or the stunning acting performances. Welles plays probably the most romantic leading role of his career as the brooding Rochester, while Fontaine postively glows in an understated turn as the title character. Of particular note are two child actors: Peggy Ann Garner, as the young Jane, who has a brief but dazzling turn to open the picture, and who was better known shortly thereafter for her lead in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; and the never-yet-equaled Margaret O'Brien, the oscar-winner who played 'Tootie' in 'Meet Me in St. Louis' as Rochester's ward and Jane's charge. Oh, and nearly incidentally, one of Elizabeth Taylor's first performances, as Jane's doomed friend Helen.

One can only speculate how the history of film would've been different had Welles somehow started a trend in Hollywood story-telling like that of this rendition of 'Jane Eyre'. He certainly had enough classics pitched in his early and still hopeful days in Hollywood, and this film, whether or not he deserve direct credit for it, is one of the strongest -- and, despite the pacing, most concise -- retellings of a literary classic in film history. Without too much hyperbole, it's as if Charlotte Brontë were on the level of Shakespeare and Fontaine and Welles forgotten archetypes of deep myth. It's not a stretch to say that this film version is far more accessible to the modern sensibility than the book itself is, without losing the period feel and contemporary feeling of the original text.

8/10, a forgotten classic.