THE REMAINS OF THE DAY

THE REMAINS OF THE DAY (Directed by James Ivory. Starring Anthony Hopkins, Emma Thompson, James Fox, Christopher Reeve)

Having just about exhausted the supply of E.M. Forster books, the production and direction team of Merchant Ivory have turned to the works of Booker Prize-winning author Kazuo Ishiguro. This is not as incongruous as it sounds; Ishiguro is a contemporary author of mixed heritage, but The Remains Of The Day is set squarely and safely in the past, another impeccable period tale of English manners.

Best actor and actress Oscar winners Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson are teamed for the first time, but there is no bodice ripping. This is a tale of repression and constricting social ritual, following the unrequited love of a maid for a butler in an aristocratic manor house in the years before and after World War II.

Through the contrast of two masters – Edward Fox as a stiff-upper-lipped fascist sympathiser and Christopher Reeve as a liberal American millionaire – and the painful frustration of servant Emma Thompson, we are invited to criticise the social codes of the past while being deeply in awe of its standard of decor. As with all Merchant Ivory productions, it is lushly photographed and opulently designed, lingering longingly on well-cut lawns and elegant tea sets.

In the forthcoming The Age Of Innocence, Martin Scorsese tackles a similar theme with characteristic cinematic brio and inventiveness. Merchant Ivory choose to meet restraint with restraint. Nothing happens, and it takes a long time not happening. Yet there are compensations in all the performances, Hopkins in particular triumphing over the most difficult of roles, registering the terrible emotional price he pays for his pride and professionalism with the smallest of gestures.

Some will swoon at the restrained tragedy, but it’s not my cup of bone china tea. Emma should have just tossed him on the table and ripped his suit off, if you ask me.