To Serve Them All My Days

I'm so thrilled to see such glowing words from fans of "To Serve Them All My Days." I was quite taken with this mini-series when I saw it on PBS in 1984. Seeing that it had become available on DVD recently, I revisited it, wondering if my fond memories from 20 years ago would prove accurate or had taken on an unrealistic glow over time. Not to fear: I found the show's quality *surpassed* my memory of it. The series scarcely ever strikes a false note, and is bursting with extremely poignant, funny, insightful, compelling and honest moments and characterizations.

As others have commented, the story follows David Powlett-Jones, a shell-shocked veteran of WWI. As we learn in the first of 13 episodes, David was the youngest son of a coal-miner. Unlike his three older brothers, two of whom died in a mining accident along with their father, David was "kept out of the pit" to attend the local grammar school. At age 18, instead of heading to Oxford as planned, he was shipped to France, where he spent three years fighting in "the Great War." His arrival at Bamfylde school in what appears to be early 1918 is part of a recovery program prescribed by an army neurologist: a closed community in a rural setting to help mend both the physical and the mental wounds David endured in the war.

At first David is skeptical that someone of his limited formal education and lack of social standing will be accepted at Bamfylde, a public school where the boys "have an unconscious assumption of privilege." But the gentle yet insistent persuasion of headmaster Algy Herries convinces him to give it a try. His first day in the classroom provides an immediate challenge as the schoolboys test his mettle. But despite David's outwardly shy and soft-spoken ways, he soon shows that he can be as tough as any situation demands.

The series follows the intertwining of David's personal and professional growth, and the recurring conflicts between these two facets of his life. Along the way, there are loves, friendships, triumphs, and tragedy. Through it all, John Duttine is a marvel of sensitive and compelling acting, as are many of his cast-mates.

Be forewarned that the series was produced in 1980 on videotape and with a limited budget (reportedly less than $2 million -- in comparison, "The Blue and the Gray," a 1982 Civil War saga about 2/3 as long, cost between $16 and $18 million). Hence, the production often has the look of a filmed play, with few outdoor scenes and no special effects. But what it lacks in "gloss," it more than makes up for in substance.

I would love to discuss aspects of this series with other fans, but rather than go into more detail here (and risk "spoiling" it for newcomers), I suggest we meet in the Message Board area. Please post about any aspect of the show -- I'll be sure to respond!

When this series played on Masterpiece Theatre in the early 80s, I was fortunate enough to live in an area with two PBS stations, each of which played the show twice a week at different times, so was able to watch the series four times through. Several years ago, it was shown again, and my father video-taped it for me, so that when I get the urge, I plunk in my videos and fall in love all over again.

I have seen a number of Masterpiece Theatres over the years, but this one has to be my favorite. The characters are well acted, especially PJ, played by John Duttine (isn't he gorgeous!)--sensitive, passionate, and above all, a survivor. The cynical Howarth is a perfect foil (he reminds me of an old Latin teacher I once had), and the perfect best friend. Then there's the interplay between Algy Herries and his wife (a comfortable couple if I ever saw one). And can anybody help but cringe when the "Noble" Alcock comes aboard? (Hissss)

Although I have my own homemade tapes of this program, I would be happier with a professional set and agree with others who have posted that this one ought to be released. Masterpiece Theatre at its finest.

This was my favorite of the BBC serials that played on "Masterpiece Theatre," and 25 years later I find it just as charming and touching as I remembered. It's one of many variants (others are "Shogun, "All Creatures Great and Small," etc.) of the idyll some of us yearn for and, never finding, regard as irresistibly poignant: the story of a person who finds his perfect place in the world. In watching it again I discovered I practically didn't have to; I'd seen it so many times, and absorbed myself in it so thoroughly, that it had become part of my mental furniture. John Duttine was an unusual, compelling actor who gave what I think were splendid performances in this, the "Day of the Triffids" serial, and an episode of a BBC ghost series, and then seemed more or less to have vanished, to the viewers' loss.

The one big thing which strikes me now about this series is the bounciness of the supporting cast. There can never have been any more exuberant actors than Frank Middlemass, Belinda Lang, etc.; even Alan MacNaughtan, whose character is written as world-weary and cynical, comes across as lively and cheerful. Into the midst of this exuberant crowd enters a disillusioned war veteran--Duttine, an intense, introspective, melancholic performer--and the effect is as if he were brought out of himself by being caught up in a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta (and indeed, at one point the school stages "The Mikado"). Though the story is filled with anxiety and sorrow, the whole thing seems somehow like a party, and as such a sort of litmus test for one's capacity to enjoy life. Those who have it will have a grand time; those who don't won't understand why, and will probably leave early. For my part, I loved it, and feel grateful to have been invited.

John Duttine makes a thoroughly engaging hero, from the first time we see him with the shakes to the last as the dynamic and compassionate head master he has become. Frank Middlemass and Alan MacNaughton are superb, the first as the head master who hires and guides Powlett-Jones, and the second as the ascerbic but rather lonely teacher who befriends him. I do think that the last woman in Powlett-Jones' life is so utterly upper-crust as to be a bit off-putting. And as wonderful a school as Bamfylde is, it's worth remembering that it has been all the public schools like Bamfylde that have helped make Britain one the most rigidly class conscious countries it continues to be. But even recognizing that the Delderfield book and this production very much extoll the establishment's view of itself, it still is a very satisfying piece of work. Just keep a grain of salt handy. If you like things British, this is a literate, well-told tale,

I saw this film when it appeared on Masterpiece Theater in the 80's and was enthralled by it. After 20 years it has been released on DVD by Acorn Media and BBC. I purchased a copy, and it is just as great today as it was originally on Masterpiece Theater. The characters of Headmaster Algy Herres and Teacher Ian Howarth are particularly appealing. I thought the only weak spot in the entire film was the portrayal of Christine, Powlett-Jones second wife. I would recommend this movie to any family without hesitation.