Lady Chatterley

DH Lawrence's novels may be tough to translate to the screen, so much of his writing is dependent on the words on the page as they form images of extraordinary beauty and sensuality. His novels are quintessentially British and reflect on the dehumanizing effects of modernity and industrialization, confronting issues relating to emotional health and vitality, spontaneity, sexuality, and human instinct. During his lifetime he was even labeled a pornographer, but that was then and now is now, and under the gifted guidance of director/writer (with Roger Bohbot and Pierre Trividic) Pascale Ferran, Lawrence's exquisite tale of sexual awakening has found what for this viewer is the finest transition of the novel to the screen.

The place is England after WW I and Sir Clifford Chatterley (Hippolyte Girardot) is the paraplegic wealthy husband of Constance/Lady Chatterley (a radiant Marina Hands). Quite apropos for the era, Constance tends to her impotent husband, does needlepoint, and takes walks to while away her boredom. On one of her walks she encounters the gamekeeper Parkin (Jean-Louis Coullo'ch), seeing a partially nude man for the first time in her life. The impact awakens her somnolent sexuality and she manages to visit Parkin daily, gradually allowing her lust to unfold. Parkin is 'below her class' but is a masculine, sensuous embodiment of everything Constance has never experienced. They slowly bond and both of them become passionately in love, finding lovemaking in Parkin's hut, in the woods, in the rain - wherever they encounter. Constance wants to have a baby and convinces Clifford that she can become impregnated and the resulting child would be 'Clifford's' by pact. Constance travels to London, the Riviera, and other ports, only to return home believing that Parkin has reclaimed his ex-wife. But there are many surprises that greet her and the manner in which the story resolves (in Ferran's hands) leaves us unsure of the future.

The film is captured amidst the beauties of the natural world - flowers, trees, springs, brooks - and these aspects of the natural world are an influential part of Constance's sexual awakening. Yes, there are scenes of complete nudity and love making but they are photographed so well by Julian Hirsch that they become an integral part of the story. The musical score by Béatrice Thiriet finds the right quality of elegance and sensuality. If there is a problem with this nearly three-hour film it is in the editing by Yann Dedet and Mathilde Muyard that takes liberties with scene transitions that prove disruptive.

But it would be hard to imagine two actors who could match the subtlety and sexual tension that Marina Hands and Jean-Louis Coullo'ch to this film. It is breathtakingly beautiful to experience DH Lawrence's story in the hands of the French crew and cast. Grady Harp

First we may talk about the general atmosphere of this remarkable movie. All sceneries are very beautiful, accurate and full of meaning: the landscapes, the interiors and the characters' clothes like we would expect in a reproduction of events which take place in mid-twenties of last century. In what concerns the plot and story we must keep always in mind that at the time most Victorian moral values still prevail and we must see the movie against this background so what wouldn't be revolutionary nowadays was revolutionary indeed at the time. This is the well told, well acted and well directed story of a woman awakening for the physical side of love life. She is the aristocratic rich wife of a no less aristocratic and rich man who is nevertheless an invalid ridden to a wheelchair for life and sexually impotent of course. This awakening begins when she sees for the first time her husband's gamekeeper naked above his waist and washing himself. She is then overwhelmed by a great psychological trouble and the ensuing uncontrollable need of meeting him again leads her to go to see him once more and finishing by surrender herself to make love with him. The first two love scenes were so quick that she doesn't get to any climax and only during the third scene where she takes a more active part does she reach a full orgasm. It's curious however (but quite in accordance with social patterns of that time) that during the first love scenes between the two the relation master-servant maintains itself before and after sex and only later does it gain a more personal and intimate nature. After the third love scene she even thanks him for it like if it had been a service rendered by him which offends him a lot. This adaptation of the second version of the literary masterpiece novel by the British writer D. H. Lawrence is a great success indeed. This novel was banned as pornographic when it was published first time and only in the sixties of last century a court declared it not pornographic according to he real difference between pornography and eroticism which exists though many people still don't know it but it's out of the scope of this review to explain. Sex is a force of nature and indeed a part of human relations and the literary or artistic works based on it can be object of aesthetic (in the broad sense) evaluation notwithstanding any possible moral evaluations which are not within the scope of a literary or a film essay.

Considering the giant steps taken by cinema since the sixties, it's been a long wait for the real Lady C on her way to the big screen. Prurient or bland have been the previous attempts: Japan and Italy have had goes, Sylvia "Emmanuelle" Kristel starred predictably enough in a strictly 'B' version, and Ken Russell, who had had success with 'Women In Love', directed an out-of-character watered-down serial for television.

As it's a woman's story, it makes sense for a woman to direct it, and even more, to make a success of it. Ferran has taken an unknown, or forgotten earlier version of the novel, "John Thomas and Lady Jane" as the basis of her film.

It has been described as being less polemical than the final version, but it works well, in emphasising how active Constance Chatterley was in her striving for a better life, and in showing how she came to identify herself with the socialist struggle. In 1959, during the Penguin Books/Chatterley obscenity trial, it was infamously asked if this was the kind of book one would wish one's wife or servants to read. That has always been good for a laugh, if it was only about sex - but it was political. Sex and politics: a combination we now take for granted, but despite the few years since female emancipation, the combination was yet unthinkably hairy for the Fifties.

The novel itself was excessively wordy, often risibly so, with Lawrence's male-oriented phallus-worshipping view of the world to the fore. When the gamekeeper Parkin (Jean-Louis Coilloc'h, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Brando in 'Streetcar') reveals to Lady C, his worries about being too sensitive and perhaps too womanly, we hear the author's voice. By adding capitals to every part of the story, the director has made a film that could easily be followed as a silent: 'The House', The Forest', The Cabin', The Miners'…But replacing words with action, especially in the sex scenes, allows the intimacy and passion to live on, without the anachronistic wordplay and modes of speech which now distance us from the lovers. Plenty of time, too, is given to watching a girlishly clumsy Constance (Marina Hands) explore the forests and streams surrounding the House; also to the contrast with her bucolic little paradise when she is driven into town and sits in her car, her gaze lingering on more 'real men' as they emerge, begrimed, from the mine. Such a contrast, made in such visual terms, remains in the air when Sir Clifford (Hippolyte Girardot) jokes about the miners striking every winter, and Connie doesn't laugh. It's important to remember that the airs and graces put on by upper-class married couples were partly to avoid losing face in front of the servants; Sir Clifford is not the only stiff and distant husband in his world, and the supporting of attitudes and beliefs by corsets and tweeds was aped by the aspiring middle classes (as in 'Brief Encounter') until wars, jazz, rock 'n' roll, 'certain books' and the satire boom moved the concentration of gravity to The Whitehouse, Saudi Arabia and the Taliban's favourite cave.

The problem of getting a whole novel on-screen concurrently with a film in its own right has been solved by the use of intertitles, the director doing a voice-over; and the Lady's trip to France has been slotted in as a home movie, while Parkin's misadventures back home are covered in a letter from Sir Clifford's nurse (Anne Benoit), who tells it straight to camera. These changes in texture help to keep the pace up in this quite long film, just as earlier cuts are often a tranquil old-fashioned 'fade to black', to denote the passing of time.

Again; the scenes of intimacy are well told: they are acted and filmed in a manner which fools us into believing we are flies on the wall. There is no concentration on the 'plumbing' as there is with too much on-screen sex, and just a few fully-clothed scenes, a few words and minimal choreography are all it needs to put over the spirit of the novel, the return to the garden and the grace and honest beauty of making love.

Wow. I really dislike slow moving romances, but the amount of artistry that was injected into this production, and the rendered result is just pure art in every sense of the word.

Every shot is an oil painting. I don't know what it is about the French and their history with art that makes them such masters, but not a single strip of film was wasted here. The lighting, the costumes, the camera angles, and composition of the frame and music, really were just given such care that it's a wonder this film hasn't gained more notoriety among D.H. Lawrence enthusiasts.

Then there are the sex scenes. Yes ladies and gentlemen, there is sex in this film, though it's rendered with a very gentle brush stroke by a master painter of film. There is nothing tawdry in the nature of the sex other than the fact that the couple is bucking societal convention. To find out what I mean, you have to watch the film.

This is a story about a woman's wants and needs. Whom she married because modern convention pushed her in that direction, and what she really wanted because her innate nature and the man in question succumbed to proper instincts.

One man has societal power and wealth, but cannot care for himself without the assistance that his wealth affords. Another can withstand adversity after adversity, and like so many men, prefers, prospers, and even thrives when he's alone. One is the master of men. Another is the master of himself, and cares for no other. Ladies, which do you prefer? Which do you say you want, and which one fires your heart, body and soul? That's what this movie is all about. On an even more intellectual level both males have a kind of female inner psyche working for them. One gains the world, the other gains something else.

I have two regrets about this film. Firstly that there are a couple of pans (and one awful zoom) that come lose to derailing the flow of the movie. But as visually jarring as they are, they pass quickly. Like a B-movie producer/director once told me, America makes the best dollies and tripods for professional movie cameras, and that is an unchallenged truth. If you look at any foreign film, and compare the camera moves with American movies, you'll note that American films have very smooth dolly shots, Steadicam shots, and the now occasional rare pan. Foreign films are still playing catchup, even for this film which was shot only ten years ago! Secondly; I streamed this film off of Amazon, and it is not a high definition transfer with muted colors. The colors I'm thinking were a creative choice of the director and cinematographer, and they may have even used a soft lens or a soft filter in front of the lens to add that bit of visual texture to give this film an even softer touch and intimate feel. Even so, I wanted to see more information on the screen, but whether it was the creative team being artistic or the limitations of the technology, I'll never know until I see this thing on bluray.

Here's the thing; I was forced to read D.H. Lawrence in high school, and hated his writing. It was slow, lethargic, seemed to cater to over emotionalism, and just downright boring as hell when compared to some of the sci-fi authors or military fiction authors I used to read (and get more out of), but this film (and the French really do love Lawrence) very much delivers a film maker's film. And, as usual from French cinema, gives us a character study of the gentler side of human nature. What is, what we'd like, and what ought to be.

I don't recommend this film to anyone who is not a cinema aficionado. If you like heavy psychology and films about how a trist can be mistaken or evolve into love, then this film is for you.

Otherwise, maybe give it a shot and see what you think.

Enjoy.

I didn't really expect too much from this movie and hearing the running time was just short of three hours, was fully prepared to leave after getting a flavour of it. How wrong I was, this is a very fine film and doesn't drag for a moment. It is beautiful, believable and nothing short of a wonderful sexy surprise. All the support acting is measured and helps provide a solid counterbalance for the central couple who gradually learn to let go their inhibitions and slide blissfully from lust to love. It is all very gradually done from Chatterley's first glimpse of the gamekeeper washing himself outside his hut and her consequent, and at the time seemingly over the top, need to sit to gather her senses, literally; to the powerful scene where she asks him to turn and display his erect penis and the wondrous scenes of the naked couple cavorting ecstatically in the pouring rain. All in all a fine mix of the wonders of nature, the manliness of the hand made, the power of sex and the need for love. The more overt political elements that Lawrence would probably have wanted put more to the fore are probably better dealt with here, kept more in the background. Brave film making, especially at a time when being so positive about 'sexual healing' seems so out of vogue.