The River
A beautiful and unique film about a plainish young girl who, beginning to enter adolescence, finds herself desperate to attract a man by showing him her depth of feeling through writing, in the process discovering her cosmos in all its enchantment and danger. Another girl remains stuck out of joint with a universe that, for her, seems, initially at least, irredeemably split between two worlds, in neither of which can she easily find a comfortable place. Seventy years later, what strikes the viewer is the standardisation of cinematic storytelling that has occurred in the interim, and the loss of all ability to imagine the interior life of young women, or just the loss of interior life itself.
Comparing the novel with the film is instructive. A number of changes have been made to the list of characters, such as the deletion of an older sister Bea, who in the book is Harriet’s main rival for the attentions and affections of Captain John, and a kind of intermediary character between the sensitive and naïve Harriet and the superficial and worldly Valerie. In the movie, there is instead the addition of the widowed Mr. John and his half-Indian daughter Melanie, and this clearly reflects a decision by Renoir, or by Renoir and Godden (both receive a screenwriter’s credit), to shift the place of India itself from being mainly the backdrop, from which the protagonist draws sustenance and onto which she projects significance, into a more central position, or a second focus, one that would be less “subjective” and more “objective”, so to speak.
Perhaps this shift was the result of a feeling that the book was already a bit dated in its singular focus on the world of the English colonialists, with little room for Indians (other than the wise housekeeper Nan). Or perhaps it was that when Renoir went to India, he was fascinated by the profusion of plants, animals, imagery, landscape, types of human activity, symbols, music and rituals he found there, leading him to want to introduce the Indian world to western audiences who in 1951 would not have been very familiar with its details (even PATHER PANCHALI was still four years away). But whatever the cause, it also seems to reflect something about the differences between novels and movies, and the way in which the latter, even when they are works of utter fiction, still photograph something in the physical universe, whose light has reflected off objects and into the camera, eventually to be projected onto the movie screen. The consequence is that, while the film faithfully reflects the spirit of the book, it also adds numerous details and elements, not least of which is the story of Krishna and Lady Radha, and the remarkable dance sequence that is included in the middle of it.
Comparing the novel with the film is instructive. A number of changes have been made to the list of characters, such as the deletion of an older sister Bea, who in the book is Harriet’s main rival for the attentions and affections of Captain John, and a kind of intermediary character between the sensitive and naïve Harriet and the superficial and worldly Valerie. In the movie, there is instead the addition of the widowed Mr. John and his half-Indian daughter Melanie, and this clearly reflects a decision by Renoir, or by Renoir and Godden (both receive a screenwriter’s credit), to shift the place of India itself from being mainly the backdrop, from which the protagonist draws sustenance and onto which she projects significance, into a more central position, or a second focus, one that would be less “subjective” and more “objective”, so to speak.
Perhaps this shift was the result of a feeling that the book was already a bit dated in its singular focus on the world of the English colonialists, with little room for Indians (other than the wise housekeeper Nan). Or perhaps it was that when Renoir went to India, he was fascinated by the profusion of plants, animals, imagery, landscape, types of human activity, symbols, music and rituals he found there, leading him to want to introduce the Indian world to western audiences who in 1951 would not have been very familiar with its details (even PATHER PANCHALI was still four years away). But whatever the cause, it also seems to reflect something about the differences between novels and movies, and the way in which the latter, even when they are works of utter fiction, still photograph something in the physical universe, whose light has reflected off objects and into the camera, eventually to be projected onto the movie screen. The consequence is that, while the film faithfully reflects the spirit of the book, it also adds numerous details and elements, not least of which is the story of Krishna and Lady Radha, and the remarkable dance sequence that is included in the middle of it.
Mini Review: A beautiful film about a plainish young girl desperate to attract a man by showing him her depth of feeling through writing, in the process discovering her cosmos in all its enchantment and danger. Another girl remains stuck out of joint with the universe. Seventy years later, what strikes the viewer is the standardisation of cinematic storytelling that has occurred in the interim, and the loss of all ability to imagine the interior life of young women, or just the loss of interior life itself.
