Other Doctor Lives: The Personal History of David Copperfield (2019, PG)

This was one of the hardest entertainment disruptions of the pandemic for me (the other being Shang Chi – seriously, when can we at least get a teaser?) I remember when I first saw the trailer for this movie, right around the same time the trailer also came out for The Green Knight, similarly starring Dev Patel. May 2020 was going to be the month of Dev Patel coming for all the classic-English literature roles, and the rest of David Copperfield’s glorious cast (including Peter Capaldi as Mr. Micawber!) was just gravy. Then, obviously, 2020 happened. The movie didn’t come out in May, and when it was pushed back to the end of August, it came out in theaters only (remember August? Good grief.) This might’ve been the one 2020 film that would’ve had me forking over the $20+ for simultaneous VOD, but it wasn’t even an option. Let me tell you, there were multiple times in the fall when I Googled, “How can I see The Personal History of David Copperfield???", looking for any answer that didn’t involve setting foot in a theater during a pandemic. But finally, this long-awaited-for-me film is available to pay to see on streaming outlets.

Young David Copperfield’s life is turned upside-down when his mother remarries and David’s cruel stepfather sets out to make his life miserable, sending David away to work in his bottling factory. But this immense hardship kicks off an impressive series of adventures for David involving a wild variety of colorful characters, including a grandiloquent pauper, a maiden aunt with a vendetta against donkeys, and a greasy little social-climber. Along the way, David’s fortunes change drastically multiple times, he falls in and out of love, and he learns which friends he can really trust.

First of all, let me say that David Copperfield is probably one of my least favorites of Charles Dickens’ major works. There are parts of it that I love, including a number of truly-memorable characters, but the story doesn’t feel as tight to me as some of my favorite books of his and I don’t have a ton of use for David as a protagonist once he grows up. My excitement for this movie was pretty much wholly down to the incredible cast list, including multiple people of color and led by our star, Patel, as the eponymous David. As such, I can’t speak with too much authority on this adaptation’s faithfulness to the book. It’s certainly streamlined, which gives it quite a whirlwind feel, but it all holds together pretty well for me. It doesn’t feel cut to ribbons or jam-packed with characters we can’t keep track of. And there are some notable changes to the source material that I actually like a lot, especially in the portrayals of some of the main female characters. In the book, Agnes comes across more like one of Dickens’ Angel of the House types, but she’s given more definition here, and while Dora is still very much Dora, there are moments within her storyline that treat her with a little more compassion and understanding.

The direction/construction of the adaptation, by none other than The Thick of It’s Armando Iannucci, is lovely and lyrical as well as wild and madcap. I like the conceit of the grown-up David stepping in and out of the story of his childhood, with Iannucci giving certain early memories a beautifully dream-like quality, and the film handles both the rough comedy and high drama of the story in ways that feel true to its extremes without leaving the movie with a sense of pulling in too-wildly-different directions. I also like how the notion of David’s potential as a writer is threaded throughout the movie, with his observations of the wild characters around him and his penchant for jotting down whimsical phrases.

The whole cast is every bit as good as you’d expect them to be. Patel carries the film with aplomb, making me feel invested in a protagonist I’ve never had too much interest in. His David is still something of a mess and can be a bit of a putz, but his innate goodness shines through, which keeps me rooting for him to get his head on straight. Tilda Swinton makes a feast of the character of Aunt Betsy, and while I’m unfamiliar with Rosalind Eleazar, she’s utterly winning as Agnes. Benedict Wong (lately of Doctor Strange) is understatedly fun as the drunken solicitor Mr. Wickfield, Hugh Laurie makes for a fantastic Mr. Dick, and Ben Whishaw just oozes slime as that sniveling little weasel Uriah Heep. The film also features the likes of Gwendoline Christie (Brienne!), Anna Maxwell Martin (who I loved so much in the 2005 adaptation of Bleak House,) and Sophie McShera (Daisy from Downton Abbey.)

I’m pretty much always in favor of seeing people of color in period pieces, whether it’s something like Belle that tells a seldom-told story about people of color in history or a film like this that takes the “colorblind” approach and just casts great actors in fun roles. Patel, Eleazar, and the other BIPOC cast members shine in their parts while looking lovely in period garb, and I’d love to see more adaptations like this in the future. (Yes, I know about Bridgerton, but I haven’t mustered up the enthusiasm to watch it yet. While it’s not like I haven’t watched other shows with copious amounts of sex – hello, Game of Thrones – to my knowledge, Bridgerton doesn’t have dragons.)

Micawber is up there among Dickens’ most memorable characters, so Capaldi has a delightful part to play. He captures Micawber’s self-importance and tragic-hero-of-his-own-story flair so well. I love the early scenes of him meeting young Davy, teaching him the ins and outs of avoiding bailiffs and creditors, and Micawber’s overdramatic histrionics are a hoot. This is a fun, hammy role for any actor to play, and Capaldi gamely takes bites out of the scenery whenever the moment calls for it.

Also, I just really like his physicality in the role. He’s so long and nimble, and he brings such a fun presence to scenes like Micawber scuttling to avoid the bailiffs or valiantly trying to save his possessions from being repoed. Even though it’s not a huge part in the movie as a whole, Capaldi/Micawber brightens up every scene he’s in and consistently brings laughs.

Accent Watch

A broad Cockney.

Recommend?

In General – I would, with the disclaimer that you should probably be at least slightly interested in Victorian period pieces and/or Dickens. It’s fun and frothy and dramatic, and for me personally, it helped me connect with the story in a way that the book never fully accomplished.

Peter Capaldi – Yes. Be warned that it’s not an enormous role, but Capaldi makes the most of every scene that he has.

Warnings

Thematic elements (including child abuse,) drinking/smoking, and scenes of violence.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood (2012)

This miniseries was released on Masterpiece in the same season as an adaptation of Great Expectations. I’d read the extant pages of Edwin Drood in preparation for that Charles Dickens television smorgasbord, and I remember that, while I was more excited for Great Expectations, I wound up liking this one more.

John Jasper, the tortured choirmaster of the quiet village of Cloisterham, has long harbored a seething jealousy against his nephew Edwin. Mr. Jasper views Edwin as dismissively ungrateful for the extraordinary opportunities that have been handed to him by virtue of his circumstance, chief of which is his engagement to the beautiful young Rosa Bud. When Edwin disappears under mysterious circumstances, the villagers suspect Neville Landless, a hotheaded young man recently arrived to the country from Ceylon (present-day Sri Lanka,) but Rosa knows of Mr. Jasper’s obsession with her full well and believes the culprit to be someone much closer to home.

Any attempt to adapt Edwin Drood has to reckon with the fact that it’s unfinished, significantly so – it was probably only about half written when Dickens passed away. As such, quite a bit of invention is called for to bring the story to a resolution. I have to say, I’m a fan of this one. It’s wild, but I remember watching it for the first time and thinking, “Dickens would so pull something like that,” at some of its various twists and turns. While I won’t spoil anything, I think it offers up some good surprises, and I mostly like how things shake out.

And as for the material that is present, I’d say, overall, the miniseries does a fine job delivering on the character(s) of the book, which I think is always the key to a successful Dickens adaptation. His work is all about characters – oodles of colorful, memorable folks populating the story – and character – the sense of mood and environment that he creates – and this production handles both nicely. All the characters feel sharply drawn. Neville and Helena Landless get a bit more of a nuanced hand (unlike the musical version, which, in the year of our Lord 2012, put future Tony winner Jessie Mueller and future Tony nominee Andy Karl in honest-to-goodness brownface, my god,) the dynamic between Mr. Jasper and Edwin is fascinating, and I love the depictions of Mr. Grewgious and his industrious clerk Bazzard. I admittedly miss the inclusion of the delightful Mr. Tartar, but at a tight two hours and with an ending to make up, I get that something had to go. As for character, the miniseries brings an eerie, creeping sense of dread, the tension always being pierced with a dose of humor right when we need it. This miniseries feels very Dickens throughout, which I didn’t think was the case with its contemporary adaptation of Great Expectations.

Great acting from top to bottom. Matthew Rhys, who I saw more recently in A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, tears it up as the intense, troubled Mr. Jasper, and Freddie Fox’s Edwin provides a bright, easy contrast to Mr. Jasper’s darkness (I always take notice of Fox in other projects, such as Pride, and it’s because of this role.) Tamzin Merchant does well with Rosa’s extreme situation and is believable as someone others would go to great lengths to look out for. Sacha Dhawan (former History Boy and current Master!) and Amber Rose Revah (lately Madani on The Punisher) play the Landlesses with the fierce dignity of two South Asians dropped into the middle of tiny English village full of xenophobic busybodies. Alun Armstrong is wonderfully warm as Rosa’s solicitor Mr. Grewgious, and David Dawson is a hoot as Bazzard. I also love the comedy stylings of Ron Cook as the drunken stonemason Mr. Durdles and young Alfie Davis as his sidekick Deputy.

Warnings

Violence, drinking/smoking/drug use, veiled sexual references, and strong thematic elements (including sexual harassment and racism.)

Bleak House (2005)

Some time ago, I reviewed a BBC miniseries of another Dickens novel, Little Dorrit, that was made a few years after this one.  Like that adaptation, I find Bleak House to be impeccably cast and excellently well-made, especially in terms of how it handles its leading lady.  I haven’t seen nearly as many Dickens adaptations as I have Austen films/miniseries, but Bleak House and Little Dorrit both speak very well to his cinematic and televisual potential.

Esther Summerson has had her obscure birth hanging over her head ever since she was born.  “Your mother, Esther, was your digrace,” she’s always been told, “and you were hers.”  As a young woman, however, she’s brought into the care of a new guardian, John Jarndyce.  Joining them are Richard and Ada, relatives of John who stand to gain an immense sum in a notoriously-complicated court case that’s churned away for decades.  While John attempts to convince Richard not to pin all his hopes on the suit, Esther tries to adjust to the idea of anyone caring about her and finds herself tangled in some intrigue involving the chilly lady of a well-known country estate.

Although I like Esther in the book, she is still too good to be true there – too “good,” as in “being possessed of too much saintlike, self-denying goodness.”  It’s a definite problem with Dickens, who was very fond of “angel of the house” types (I find her more compelling than, say, Amy Dorrit or Little Nell from The Old Curiosity Shop, but the point still stands.)  However, the miniseries really does right by Esther and frees me up to unabashedly love her.  Here, it’s not so much that she’s self-denying as that she honestly values herself so little (based on the disgust she fed throughout her childhood,) and if she appears saintlike, it’s because she feels she has to be useful in order to justify being allowed to live among caring people.  Anna Maxwell Martin (Susan from The Bletchley Circle) is phenomenal in the role.  Her beautifully-subtle performance shows you every hope Esther is too afraid to nurture and every painful bit of self-censure she continues to internalize, with a quiet strength running underneath it all like a current.

Overall, it’s quite a reasonable adaptation.  Some of the twists are maybe a bit too telegraphed, but the suspense is well done, the character interactions are excellent, and the humor is perfectly Dickensian.  Also, the sentimental moments are brought forth onscreen with a more even hand than they are on the page, which is a major plus.

Again, as with Little Dorrit, the cast is splendid.  Other than the to-die-for Maxwell Martin, I want to single out Gillian Andserson’s superbly-controlled portrayal of Lady Dedlock and Burn Gorman (Owen from Torchwood) as Mr. Guppy, a poor lovestruck legal clerk who’s too tenacious for his (or anyone’s) own good.  The miniseries also features Carey Mulligan, Denis Lawson (Urquhart from Local Hero!), Charles Dance (a.k.a. Tywin Lannister,) and numerous familiar faces from British telly in smaller roles, including Catherine Tate.

Warnings

Drinking/smoking, delicately-Victorian sexual references, and thematic elements.