2 March 2014

20th Century Film

A Room with a View (Merchant Ivory)
starring Helena Bonham-Carter, Maggie Smith and Judi Dench (etc.)
circa 1985
(based on the novel by E.M. Forster)

     This is Lucy, wonderful Lucy. She is mischievous, clever, curious and passionate, but also confused - repressed. On paper, Forster renders Lucy’s character as that of an open book: one that, though seeming to be wide open, has yet to reveal its début, its epiphany of being, through some form of outlet she knows she is meant to discover, soon. This frustrates her. One feels that at any moment she may implode emotionally because of her introverted sense of expressing a feeling she has yet to understand, let alone to identify. This said, it takes more than either one good read or watch to then understand the importance of George, an equally-introverted (perhaps moreso) young man whose budding acquaintance with Lucy (much to the tutting though harmless disapproval of Charlotte) sets off a sudden spark within her. Like a fawn, she is clumsy and scared of these new feelings. But despite the exciting allure they give her, she tears what she feels to be her guilty interest away from George, convincing herself that what she sees as the good in him would only be destructive to her. Her past dictates order and control, though her mind and body scream to be rescued from such restrictions. In her power to deceive and resist, she warps reality in order to maintain this control, but in doing so she unknowingly brings the truth closer. 
     And it is at the beginning of her story that, ironically, we see its end unveiled, subtly. As the first marker to weaken the storm within Lucy, however minimally, it is a certain Mr. Emerson who recognises it as similar to that in his own son, George. He not only inadvertently lends her a masterpiece of advice, but he also sets off the plot's clockwork. Under the domes of the Florentine church in which they stand, and in her light blue dress and bushy braided hair, a contemplating Lucy digests his words: 

If you let yourself go I am sure you are sensible (…). You are inclined to get muddled - pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them. By understanding George you may learn to understand yourself.