Guy Lodge 

Streaming: the best Dickens adaptations

Armando Iannucci’s take on David Copperfield is just the latest chapter in TV and cinema’s endless appetite for Pip, Oliver, Miss Havisham and co
  
  

Dev Patel in the title role of Armando Iannucci’s The Personal History of David Copperfield (2019).
Dev Patel in the title role of Armando Iannucci’s The Personal History of David Copperfield (2019). Photograph: Landmark Media

There was a BBC documentary some years ago titled Dickens on Film that posited Charles Dickens as a kind of spiritual father of modern cinema. Television might be even closer to the mark, but there’s something to it either way: the DNA of Dickens’s busy, episodic storytelling, delivered in instalments and rife with cliffhangers and diversions, is traceable in everything from Coronation Street to the films of Paul Thomas Anderson.

No surprise, then, that more than 400 big- and small-screen adaptations have been made from his novels, with Armando Iannucci’s recent, rumbustious The Personal History of David Copperfield the latest. Out on DVD and streaming platforms from Monday, it enjoyably retains all the ornate period finery and star-speckled romping of past versions, but modernises things with imaginative multiracial casting and an added twist of Iannucci’s signature salty vernacular to the original text. It’s all a bit compressed: Copperfield’s winding saga doesn’t fit neatly in under two hours, so it’s constantly in motion but less moving than it could be. Still, it has a frisky, Dickensian spirit: for many younger viewers, it may come to seem definitive.

As oft-filmed as Dickens’s novels have been, they’ve yielded fewer cast-iron classics than you might think. David Lean pretty much reached the summit of this subgenre in 1946 with his superb version of Great Expectations (free to stream for BritBox subscribers, and also available on iTunes). It may have significantly abridged the novel, but found such rich cinematic language for Pip’s long journey in the looming gothic shadows and enveloping mists of Guy Green’s Oscar-winning black-and-white cinematography that it still feels nourishingly complete. Nobody has pulled off the balance quite so stylishly since – not even Lean himself, though he came close enough two years later with his satisfyingly atmospheric take on Oliver Twist (available on the BFI Player).

Lean effectively nailing those two novels hasn’t stopped them from being remade on a regular basis, with varying degrees of success. His Oliver Twist holds up better than Roman Polanski’s surprisingly standard-issue and largely forgotten version from 2005 (on iTunes), though for many, Carol Reed’s bright, Oscar-laden 1968 musical rendition of Oliver! (on Amazon) has been their childhood gateway to Dickens. Who can resist those tunes and swirling choreography? Unlike most critics, I retain much affection for Alfonso Cuarón’s 1998 Generation X update of Great Expectations (on Chili), which converts the icy anti-romance between Pip and Estella into a kind of woozy, indie-scored time capsule of how love was supposed to look in the 90s – ravishingly photographed by Emmanuel Lubezki, of course.

Back in 1935, MGM lavished money on an all-star version of David Copperfield from super-producer David O Selznick and director George Cukor. Both fun and a little creaky, it’s streaming on Chili, and the curious should check it out for very American comedian WC Fields’s stab at Mr Micawber alone. Selznick was pleased enough with it to immediately have a go at A Tale of Two Cities (on Amazon), and it makes something rousing and swooningly romantic out of Dickens’s soapiest novel. It’s hardly the season, but A Christmas Carol has probably been his most generously-served work on screen: if you’re in the mood for some summer Yuletide spirit, 1951’s Scrooge (Google Play) still honours it best.


Yet while certain Dickens novels get endlessly recycled, film-makers still seem daunted by others. The rarity of the attempt makes the absence of Christine Edzard’s muscular six-hour film of Little Dorrit (1987) from any streaming services all the more disappointing. Douglas McGrath’s 2002 take on Nicholas Nickleby, happily, can be found on Amazon: it’s attractively mounted and cast, and so easily accessible you wonder why it hasn’t been done to death in cinemas. 

Ultimately, the roomy dimensions of the TV miniseries have been kinder to many Dickens novels. No surprise that a number of them are available in digital boxset form on BritBox, including the BBC’s absorbing, Claire Foy-led Little Dorrit (2008) and its vast, all-star Bleak House (2005), both deftly adapted by Andrew Davies. Britbox also has the 1999 and 2011 miniseries versions of Great Expectations, for any completists who want to be fully caught up as the BBC readies yet another TV adaptation for production. And you can head over to Amazon for the Beeb’s 1990s renditions of Martin Chuzzlewit and Our Mutual Friend. You’ll have viewing lined up for days: if Dickens is the spiritual father of anything, perhaps it’s the modern binge-watch.

Also new on streaming and DVD

Little Joe
(BFI, 12)
The first English-language film from serene Austrian stylist Jessica Hausner is an eerie sci-fi curio, hermetically sealed in its own world, though its arresting visual and sonic accents don’t quite carry the lower-than-low-key storytelling.

Birds of Prey
(Warner Bros, 15)
More interesting than any spinoff from the wretched Suicide Squad has a right to be, Cathy Yan’s revenge-fuelled outing for Margot Robbie’s super-antiheroine Harley Quinn pops with genuine, garish comic-book energy to balance out a more formulaic narrative. 

Ordinary Love
(Dazzler Media, 12)
Tenderly observing a middle-aged marriage ruptured by cancer, this is softer, sweeter stuff than you’d expect from the pen of Irish playwright Owen McCafferty. It’s principally a performance showcase for a well-matched Lesley Manville and Liam Neeson. 

Citizens of the World
(Curzon Home Cinema, not rated)
Italian director Gianni Di Gregorio delighted arthouse audiences with his mellow, sunny 2008 debut Mid-August Lunch, and aims for similar rewards with this meandering comedy about pensioners dreaming of a life abroad: it’s pleasant but minor.

You Don’t Nomi
(Bulldog, 18)
It’s 25 years since Paul Verhoeven’s Vegas stripper extravaganza was released to vicious reviews and calamitous box office, but these days it’s a beloved camp classic with a sincere critical following. Jeffrey McHale’s hugely enjoyable doc traces that trajectory.

 

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