Two things I never miss are Dickens adaptations and Tom Courteney movies. I've been a fan of Dickens since my sixth grade reading of OLIVER TWIST and I love a good Dickens adaptation as much as a good Dickens book. The longer, the better. And I've tried to catch everything Mister Courtenay has done since his sixties appearances in "Billy Liar" and "Dr. Zhivago" and "Otley" right up to recent readings of his autobiography on BBC radio to an awful radio play he did about a bus driver. And while Mister Courtenay is one of those actors who seem born to play Dickens (his malignant Quilp was the highlight of "The Old Curiosity Shop") he really is better made for Dickens' nice, decrepit characters like Newman Noggs in 2002's "Nicholas Nickleby." But Courtenay simply doesn't have the authority to play William Dorrit, little Dorrit's father.
In 1987's "Little Dorrit" Alec Guinness (another perfect Dickens actor from his youthful turn as Herbert Pocket in "Great Expectations") was cast as William. The same quiet authority that made Guinness shine as the sage in "Star Wars" gave him the gravitas he needed as the fallen man who maintains his dignity in debtors' prison (one of Dickens' favorite settings) so that he could be called "the father of the Marshalsea." Had he been twenty years younger, Courtenay might have played Arthur Clennam (an almost invisible Mathew Macfayden; the role was much better done by Derek Jacobi in the 1987 version, where Jacobi was able to play the weak-willed son without getting lost altogether).
As far as the rest of the flick, it evokes the the period much better than the 1987 version, which was obviously stage-set and done, despite the talent involved, on a shoestring. Though today's more weird focus on the dirt of Dickens' day rather than the shiny bits is a bit off-putting.
The best thing about the movie, besides an otherwise strong cast (Alun Armstrong as Flintwinch, James Fleet as Frederick, Ron Cook as Chivery, etc.) is the introduction of Little Dorrit herself (Clair Foy), done in half-face. It's a beautiful image of little Dorrit, who even in Dickens is somewhat of a mystery character (though she is much more explicable here than in 1987, probably because Foy is a better actress).
As for William, a stronger actor than Courtenay (a Burton or a Wolfit) would have come off as a phony while an actor tending toward the comedy in Dickens (a Broadbent, say) might have missed the gravitas.
Courtenay is an excellent actor who deserves to be plugged in to every major Dickens adaptation going, but he comes off here as one thing William Dorrit was without showing it--desperate; and one thing William certainly was not--whiny.
In 1987's "Little Dorrit" Alec Guinness (another perfect Dickens actor from his youthful turn as Herbert Pocket in "Great Expectations") was cast as William. The same quiet authority that made Guinness shine as the sage in "Star Wars" gave him the gravitas he needed as the fallen man who maintains his dignity in debtors' prison (one of Dickens' favorite settings) so that he could be called "the father of the Marshalsea." Had he been twenty years younger, Courtenay might have played Arthur Clennam (an almost invisible Mathew Macfayden; the role was much better done by Derek Jacobi in the 1987 version, where Jacobi was able to play the weak-willed son without getting lost altogether).
As far as the rest of the flick, it evokes the the period much better than the 1987 version, which was obviously stage-set and done, despite the talent involved, on a shoestring. Though today's more weird focus on the dirt of Dickens' day rather than the shiny bits is a bit off-putting.
The best thing about the movie, besides an otherwise strong cast (Alun Armstrong as Flintwinch, James Fleet as Frederick, Ron Cook as Chivery, etc.) is the introduction of Little Dorrit herself (Clair Foy), done in half-face. It's a beautiful image of little Dorrit, who even in Dickens is somewhat of a mystery character (though she is much more explicable here than in 1987, probably because Foy is a better actress).
As for William, a stronger actor than Courtenay (a Burton or a Wolfit) would have come off as a phony while an actor tending toward the comedy in Dickens (a Broadbent, say) might have missed the gravitas.
Courtenay is an excellent actor who deserves to be plugged in to every major Dickens adaptation going, but he comes off here as one thing William Dorrit was without showing it--desperate; and one thing William certainly was not--whiny.