Review: Far From the Madding Crowd
Bathsheba Everdene (Carey Mulligan) is a woman ahead of her time for Dorset in 1870. Bathsheba is accustomed to her independence. Some would say too accustomed. She is not the marrying kind and, throughout this superb adaptation of Thomas Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd, she deflects one marriage proposal after another.
She outright rejects shepherd Gabriel Oak (Matthias Schoenaerts), whose kind heart and tender eyes would melt any human heart. Bathsheba knows this is a man worthy of her, but there's a practicality and somewhat dangerous pride she has in her independence. "I'd hate to be some man's property," she says. "I shouldn't mind being a bride at a wedding if I could be one without getting a husband." Besides, she smiles, she is too independent for him and he would end up despising her. Gabriel knows otherwise, his devotion is as unfellable as the mighty tree whose name he bears. "I will always be there for you," he pledges.
When next they meet, their fortunes have reversed. Gabriel has been left penniless after one of his sheepdogs drives his flock over a cliff. (Hardy wrote many an indelible and horrifying image, and the death of the sheep ranks as one of the most terrible twists of fate to befall so goodhearted a character.) Bathsheba has inherited her uncle's estate and is determined, with the steadfast Gabriel in her employ, to restore the estate and its farm to its former glory days. "It is my intention to astonish you all," she declares to her workers. Mulligan delivers this line with a perfect mix of brio and doubt; Bathsheba says it to convince herself as much as anyone else.
Sensible as Bathsheba is, she is not immune to acts of thoughtlessness, as she will prove with her handling of William Boldwood (Michael Sheen). A wealthy businessman, the standoffish Boldwood pays scant attention to his new neighbour but when Bathsheba sends him a valentine in jest, something awakens within Boldwood. His pursuit of her, already a futile cause from the start, will lead to his undoing. Sheen is devastating as Boldwood, a man who suddenly realises the depths of his loneliness and hangs every hope of happiness on her hesitant and hollow promises.
With Sheen's pitiful but sympathetic Boldwood and Schoenaert's soulful Gabriel, Tom Sturridge's Sergeant Troy pales in comparison. Sturridge does fine enough work to avoid endangering his section of the film, but his casting is the sole instance where one wishes for his cinematic predecessor. John Schlesinger's heretofore definitive 1967 adaptation featured the top stars of British cinema: It girl Julie Christie (fresh off her Academy Award-winning turn in Darling) as Bathsheba, Alan Bates as Gabriel, Peter Finch as Boldwood, and Terence Stamp as Troy. Schoenaerts and Sheen dispel the ghosts of Bates and Finch, but Sturridge stands - no, cowers - in Stamp's shadow. Sturridge seems too young for the part though, at 29, he is the same age as Stamp was when Stamp essayed Troy. There's a petulance in Sturridge's playing that underserves the character, and at no point does Sturridge embody the irresistible cocktail of carnality and cruelty that Stamp lent all too easily to Troy. Stamp and Troy's symbolic swordplay - one of the most famous scenes from Schlesinger's film - made one believe how Bathsheba could be so destabilised by Troy. If Sturridge makes one believe, it is only because Mulligan's performance is so all-encompassing that it salvages his.
Indeed, Mulligan is a most luminous note in this rhapsody of a film. Director Thomas Vinterberg brings to life Hardy's "realistic dream country" with cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen's widescreen compositions capturing the landscape in all its pastoral and portentous glory. Screenwriter David Nicholls streamlines Hardy's novel - perhaps a mite too much as the story is so engrossing that a little more fleshing out would not have been unwelcome. Between Nicholls subtle re-shaping, Vinterberg's skillful direction, and Mulligan's exquisite and superlative portrayal, the film does much to sharpen the novel's central question: how much is Bathsheba responsible for what befalls Boldwood and Troy? How have her decisions contributed to their actions?
It is doubtful that any adaptation could fully convey Hardy's rumination on accountability, but Vinterberg and Nicholls come close. Bathsheba is plainspoken and holds herself in the highest regard, which can sometimes lead her to go against her better nature. What Bathsheba comes to learn is that she may be able to control herself but she cannot control those around her, and self-reliance does not mean being alone.
Far From the Madding Crowd
Directed by: Thomas Vinterberg
Written by: David Nicholls; adapted from Thomas Hardy's novel
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Matthias Schoenaerts, Michael Sheen, Tom Sturridge, Juno Temple, Jessica Barden, Sam Phillips, Bradley Hall
