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The BBC adaptation of Mervyn Peake’s first two Gormenghast novels (Titus Groan and Gormenghast) were aired in early 2000. They tell the story of Steerpike, a kitchen boy who fights his way towards the control of an enormous and ancient castle, Gormenghast. On his path to power, he meets and crosses the strange inhabitants of the castle, with deadly results.
This is one of those lavish productions where even tiny roles are taken by experienced actors. The production looks superb. Gormenghast itself might look a bit too jolly for some tastes, but the designers have incorporated an interesting Chinese influence along with the usual decripit English Gothic, reflecting Peake’s time in China. The scenes in the later episodes, particularly the fourth, use a darker, more faded style.
The script cuts a fair amount of the novels. The first Master of Ritual, Sourdust, is gone – his successor, Barquentine (Warren Mitchell), takes his place throughout the BBC version – as is much of the wetnurse Keda’s (Olga Sosnovska) subplot among the Bright Carvers. Personally, I didn’t mind this. I was more bothered by the wrenching of some of the characterisation, especially Steerpike’s tendency to cackle, and the jolting of Nannie Slagg (June Brown) from dotty old lady to venomous snob and back again as the plot required.
One of the main problems with adapting a book like this is tone: too far one way and you’ve got pantomime; too far the other, and you’re looking at a sort of drab gothness that ignores Peake’s cleverness and humour. Generally, the adaptation gets this right: Nannie Slagg, Prunesquallor (John Sessions) and the Twins (Lynsey Baxter and Zoe Wannamaker) provide light relief that doesn’t detract from the plot, and those characters that start a bit uncertainly (Christopher Lee’s Flay and Fiona Shaw’s Irma in particular) stop twitching so much and become credible inhabitants of the castle. I was surprised how well the teachers, who I found one of the weaker moments of the novels, worked on screen. Stephen Fry, whilst essentially playing Stephen Fry, is well-suited to being Bellgrove.
Steerpike (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) is pretty good overall. However, the writers have given him too much emotion, and he becomes a romantic anti-hero instead of the cold murderer of the novels. Steerpike in the TV version seems to genuinely care about both Fuschia and the “people”: he shouldn’t. He also spends much too much time laughing insanely (he does too much “mad stuff” in general), which doesn’t ring true with the books. A small, thin smile would have been much better, like Santi di Tito’s painting of Machiavelli.
Particular praise, I think, should go to Celia Imrie as Countess Gertrude, Ian Richardson as Lord Sepulchrave and Neve McIntosh as Fuschia, who has the difficult task of aging from 15 to 33 in four episodes. It’s not totally convincing (how could it be from one actress?) but McIntosh gives Fuschia the right mixture of high intelligence and a naivety so intense that it’s almost a psychiatric condition. Imrie’s Gertrude is callous to humans, adoring of her animals, and utterly loyal to the castle, just as in the novels, and when her tough demeanour cracks just a little bit, it’s powerful. Richardson successfully conveys the gloominess but also the anguish of Lord Groan, a man who only seems to show his full humanity while he is going mad.
So overall I would recommend this production. It’s not perfect, but it is a strong attempt to capture the feel of these two novels. Despite its squalor, injustice and violence, I always thought that I would like to visit Gormenghast, if only for a day. Seeing this adaptation, I’d still like to book my ticket.
This is one of those lavish productions where even tiny roles are taken by experienced actors. The production looks superb. Gormenghast itself might look a bit too jolly for some tastes, but the designers have incorporated an interesting Chinese influence along with the usual decripit English Gothic, reflecting Peake’s time in China. The scenes in the later episodes, particularly the fourth, use a darker, more faded style.
The script cuts a fair amount of the novels. The first Master of Ritual, Sourdust, is gone – his successor, Barquentine (Warren Mitchell), takes his place throughout the BBC version – as is much of the wetnurse Keda’s (Olga Sosnovska) subplot among the Bright Carvers. Personally, I didn’t mind this. I was more bothered by the wrenching of some of the characterisation, especially Steerpike’s tendency to cackle, and the jolting of Nannie Slagg (June Brown) from dotty old lady to venomous snob and back again as the plot required.
One of the main problems with adapting a book like this is tone: too far one way and you’ve got pantomime; too far the other, and you’re looking at a sort of drab gothness that ignores Peake’s cleverness and humour. Generally, the adaptation gets this right: Nannie Slagg, Prunesquallor (John Sessions) and the Twins (Lynsey Baxter and Zoe Wannamaker) provide light relief that doesn’t detract from the plot, and those characters that start a bit uncertainly (Christopher Lee’s Flay and Fiona Shaw’s Irma in particular) stop twitching so much and become credible inhabitants of the castle. I was surprised how well the teachers, who I found one of the weaker moments of the novels, worked on screen. Stephen Fry, whilst essentially playing Stephen Fry, is well-suited to being Bellgrove.
Steerpike (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) is pretty good overall. However, the writers have given him too much emotion, and he becomes a romantic anti-hero instead of the cold murderer of the novels. Steerpike in the TV version seems to genuinely care about both Fuschia and the “people”: he shouldn’t. He also spends much too much time laughing insanely (he does too much “mad stuff” in general), which doesn’t ring true with the books. A small, thin smile would have been much better, like Santi di Tito’s painting of Machiavelli.
Particular praise, I think, should go to Celia Imrie as Countess Gertrude, Ian Richardson as Lord Sepulchrave and Neve McIntosh as Fuschia, who has the difficult task of aging from 15 to 33 in four episodes. It’s not totally convincing (how could it be from one actress?) but McIntosh gives Fuschia the right mixture of high intelligence and a naivety so intense that it’s almost a psychiatric condition. Imrie’s Gertrude is callous to humans, adoring of her animals, and utterly loyal to the castle, just as in the novels, and when her tough demeanour cracks just a little bit, it’s powerful. Richardson successfully conveys the gloominess but also the anguish of Lord Groan, a man who only seems to show his full humanity while he is going mad.
So overall I would recommend this production. It’s not perfect, but it is a strong attempt to capture the feel of these two novels. Despite its squalor, injustice and violence, I always thought that I would like to visit Gormenghast, if only for a day. Seeing this adaptation, I’d still like to book my ticket.
