This was a beautifully photographed version of "Vanity Fair" with a stellar cast. Even the tiniest roles were well performed. There is a recurring framing device for each episode in the form of a narrator speaking in the voice of author William Makepeace Thackeray, who appears in front of a carousel. He welcomes the viewer to "a world in which everyone is striving for what is not worth having."
Indeed, the theme of the series revolves around the vertical carousel of characters seeking to ascend the rigid social ladder of nineteenth-century British society. Central to the narrative is the orphan Rebecca Sharp, the protagonist whom we see scale the heights of a treacherous class system.
A problem with the series was that for the first five episodes, Miss Sharp is for the most part a decent and kind person. It is not until the penultimate episode 6 that we see her true colors as she is unfaithful to her devoted husband Rawdon. The greed and amorality were most apparent in her affair with Lord Steyne, as Becky hordes a stash of the money she received from him. Inexplicably, she refuses to rush to the aid of her husband and pay his bond after has has been detained for failing to pay the family's debts. The treatment shown by Becky to her young son bordered by child abuse, even by standards of the nineteenth century. Overall, the Miss Sharp's character was unevenly portrayed over the course of the seven programs. It was as if the filmmakers were manipulating us in being drawn to her virtures, then shocked by her abhorrent conduct in episode 6.
The film also came up short in the final episode in the interpretation of William Dobbin, the self-effacing captain who has spent years in slavish devotion to Becky's best friend, Amelia Sedley. In episode 7, Dobbin finally has his opportunity to woo Amelia, but loses his temper and calls her (with much validity) a "shallow" woman. The relationship is broken off seemingly irreparably. Yet ten minutes later, they are in marital bliss, thanks to the intervention of Becky and her "one good deed" to unite Amelia and William Dobbin in holy matrimony. This sequence was jarring and unbelievable. Dobbin had such poise throughout the film that he never would have lost his temper to the degree portrayed in the episode 7. And Amelia was so devoted to the memory of her husband George, who died at Waterloo, that it stretched credibility to watch Amelia suddenly admit that her deceased husband was a cad and a blackguard.
Seven episodes may have been too brief to develop the full arch of development of the main characters in this "Vanity Fair." The screenplay was good, but far too compacted in the final two episodes. While this was an extremely watchable series, the overall effect seemed untidy and incomplete. The best part of the film was the humor that derived principally from the family members of Sir Pit Cawley, especially the indomitable figure of his fussy aunt Matilda. Kudos to the scripting and the character actors who played the roles of the Cawley clan!
Indeed, the theme of the series revolves around the vertical carousel of characters seeking to ascend the rigid social ladder of nineteenth-century British society. Central to the narrative is the orphan Rebecca Sharp, the protagonist whom we see scale the heights of a treacherous class system.
A problem with the series was that for the first five episodes, Miss Sharp is for the most part a decent and kind person. It is not until the penultimate episode 6 that we see her true colors as she is unfaithful to her devoted husband Rawdon. The greed and amorality were most apparent in her affair with Lord Steyne, as Becky hordes a stash of the money she received from him. Inexplicably, she refuses to rush to the aid of her husband and pay his bond after has has been detained for failing to pay the family's debts. The treatment shown by Becky to her young son bordered by child abuse, even by standards of the nineteenth century. Overall, the Miss Sharp's character was unevenly portrayed over the course of the seven programs. It was as if the filmmakers were manipulating us in being drawn to her virtures, then shocked by her abhorrent conduct in episode 6.
The film also came up short in the final episode in the interpretation of William Dobbin, the self-effacing captain who has spent years in slavish devotion to Becky's best friend, Amelia Sedley. In episode 7, Dobbin finally has his opportunity to woo Amelia, but loses his temper and calls her (with much validity) a "shallow" woman. The relationship is broken off seemingly irreparably. Yet ten minutes later, they are in marital bliss, thanks to the intervention of Becky and her "one good deed" to unite Amelia and William Dobbin in holy matrimony. This sequence was jarring and unbelievable. Dobbin had such poise throughout the film that he never would have lost his temper to the degree portrayed in the episode 7. And Amelia was so devoted to the memory of her husband George, who died at Waterloo, that it stretched credibility to watch Amelia suddenly admit that her deceased husband was a cad and a blackguard.
Seven episodes may have been too brief to develop the full arch of development of the main characters in this "Vanity Fair." The screenplay was good, but far too compacted in the final two episodes. While this was an extremely watchable series, the overall effect seemed untidy and incomplete. The best part of the film was the humor that derived principally from the family members of Sir Pit Cawley, especially the indomitable figure of his fussy aunt Matilda. Kudos to the scripting and the character actors who played the roles of the Cawley clan!