More Adaptations, Less Theory

In fact I won't bog you down with any theory this time. What we have here are two films both of which won the Oscar for best picture, and both of which are adaptations, one from a novel, the other from the stage.

I have betrayed my love of Gone with the Wind on previous occasions and what prompts me to return to the subject is that the Groupie and I watched it for the umpteenth time when at Plas Piggy last week. It is cinema on a monstrous scale, carried to heights by the charisma and chemistry of Gable and Leigh, the brilliance of Olivia de Haviland and a matchlessly ambitious mis-en-scene. I can mouth most of the dialogue as it trips along but the sheer aptness of the delivery still captivates. 98/100.

A very different film is A Man for All Seasons, adapted from Robert Bolt's stage play. As thought-provoking historical drama goes this can hardly be bettered. No longeurs, a constant thread of intelligence and a commanding central performance from Paul Scofield. Add to that two rumbustuous supporting efforts from Orson Welles and Robert Shaw and you have a thoroughly good movie. 91/100.