Many movies have attempted to tell sweeping narratives about historical and cultural change combined with an intimate love story to which the audience can more easily relate. Most of such ambitious films fail because they are attempting something very difficult, but when they get everything right, like, say, Dr. Zhivago, we remember them forever. That’s how I feel about the 2012 mini-series Parade’s End.
Based on a tetralogy of novels by Ford Maddox Ford, the story was adapted for television by the estimable Sir Tom Stoppard. The protagonist is a well-born, brilliant, kind, and rigid Englishman named Christopher Tietjens (Benedict Cumberbatch) who is firmly committed to the fading morality of the Edwardian Period. Unfortunately for him, the story’s antagonist is his wife Sylvia (Rebecca Hall), a vain, selfish and impulsive woman he married to save from disgrace when she fell pregnant, even though the child is almost certainly not his own. The two circle each other in endless combat, with Sylvia at times making efforts to live up to Christopher’s values, but more often torturing him with infidelity and other indignities. Christopher meanwhile evidences superhuman tolerance which irritates Sylvia all the more. Into this stalemate comes a spirited, intelligent suffragette named Valentine Wannop (Adelaide Clemens) who falls in love with Christopher. He shares her feelings but feels honor-bound not to act on them. Mutual heartache, trembling upper lips, and World War I ensue.
This series compels attention because it does not oversimplify its central characters. Sylvia is sometimes thought of as one of English literature’s most contemptable females, but with Stoppard’s script, Susanna White’s direction, and an exquisitely balanced performance by Hall, she is a fully rounded person. Not someone you’d likely want to spend time with, but capable of love, and longing to better herself even though she never quite gets there.
Christopher Tietjens is also agreeably complex, and beautifully played by a highly talented actor. Thematically, Christopher’s story parallels Dostoevsky’s The Idiot, a book that Ford Maddox Ford knew well. The people around Christopher repeatedly assume that he is less trustworthy, decent, public-spirited, and loving than he in fact is because they no longer accept the moral framework under which he lives. Cumberbatch movingly conveys the loneliness of doing the right thing when no one sees value in it, or even recognizes that you are doing it because you believe it is right not because you expect some advantage. But this isn’t simple-minded nostalgia or a jeremiad because it makes clear the terrible human cost of Christopher being unwilling to let go of traditional morals: Keeping an awful marriage together and preventing what would be a much happier and loving one from forming (and it is a nice touch that Sylvia appreciates this more than Christopher).
The bravura performances of the two leads are complimented by Clemens as the third point in the story’s love triangle. Many of the smaller roles are also acted exceptionally well, including Rufus Sewell as a sexually obsessed, barmy churchman and Anne-Marie Duff as his distressed and ever-scheming wife. And what is it about Rupert Everett that no matter how immoral or callous his character is, he somehow manages, like Claude Rains before him, to leave the audience charmed?
BBC and HBO also deserve credit for the production values, particularly the World War I trench combat scenes which are hard to make credible on a TV film and budget. The costumes and sets are also as expertly assembled as you would expect from BBC.
In sum, Parade’s End is a brilliantly written, acted and directed mini-series that sets a high bar for itself and clears it with room to spare. As both a grand historical narrative and a love story it’s a triumph for everyone involved and an absolute pleasure to watch
All Good Movies 