An Inspector Calls

Believing that the original 1954 version of Guy Hamilton was on TV I actually watched the 2015 BBC version of Aisling Walsh. Aisling Walsh is an Irish director who has done much work for TV (in 2012 she also made a "Room at the top" remake for the BBC), but with "Maudie" (2016) she also made a feature film for theatrical release.

I can't compare (as yet) with the original version, but the 2015 version is very well, with good period atmosphere.

"An inspector calls" is based on the play of the same name by J.B. Priestley (1945). Earlier Priestleys novel "Benighted" (1927) had been adapted by James Whale into the movie "The old dark house" (1932). Both novel and play are comments on the English class society.

The story of "An inspector calls" is about the suicide of a working class girl. During an interrogation by the mysterious inspector Goole (being a group interrogation, this gives the play / film a very Agatha Christie like flavor) it turns out that all of the members of a wealthy family have contributed in one way or another to this suicide.

The story has aged very well. I would like to call attention to a couple of things in particular.

In the beginning of the film the father of the wealthy famlily says "It is not important where you start in life, it is important where you finish". The old American dream phrased differently. His own family is the living proof of the fact that it does matter where you start in life.

Inspector Goole is very mysterious. He seems to be omniscient, interrogating to force a confession and not to learn more himself. He makes a very moralistic farewell speech, in which he says there are thousands of people like the poor working class girl in the story. It is obvious that he is not an ordinary police inspector. It is for the spectator to decide who or what he really is.

The members of the family ar all guilty of the suicide of the girl. There guilt is however ethical and not legal. It is disenchanting to see how quickly some members of the family recuperate when they become aware of this distinction.

I loved the entire play. The thought of the play was amazing. I loved how the music blended so perfectly with the feelings of the characters and how the lighting always matched the mood. The producers kept you going with the entire thing and knew when to go to a another scene, which they executed it quite beautifully. The camera angles were great, the over the shoulder angles kept a kind of sense that this person was disgusted with them (mainly the Inspector). Also, the actors were a perfect fit. I adored Finn Cole, he was such a perfect fit to play Eric Birling. He provoked such feeling in the character and he just suited the role perfectly. But, all the actors were a perfect fit for their roles. Overall, thee play was phenomenal.

Having seen the original movie and a rather strange stage version starring the late Barry Foster, I had no doubts about the content of this telemovie - but was curious about how this modern version would treat it. Brilliantly cast, it did not disappoint, although it did tend to drag at times. On the whole the suspense was well maintained and it stayed quite close to the original, although the later scenes after the Inspector left the house were new and added little to the overall story. In fact it would have been better without them. This is a story that has to be taken at face value (the mystical part aside) - it would be easy to question the possibility that all the persons gathered together in that household had the impact they are supposed to have had on one young woman. It was written as a morality play, very relevant to its times and even today relevance can be found in many of the disclosures made. It tells us to think before we act and to be less likely to prejudge and to take responsibility for our actions. An interesting story, that makes you think - what more can one ask for?

An absolutely gripping atmospheric huis-clos, this psychological period drama could remind of an English Zola novelette and it will make you take a good hard look at yourself.

Whatever it might be, you're not going to expect *this*. Make absolutely sure to avoid spoilers! All you must know is that it isn't a "detective" story. It's a whodunit of sorts but who did it isn't the point (while being the only point - it'll make sense after)

An inspector calls onto a wealthy family at dinner time in 1910 to impart some seemingly unrelated piece of bad news. Ensues a flawless story, stunning cinematography, perfect period atmosphere, and absolutely top drawer acting. English television at its very best. 10/10 and I'm ever so glad I happened onto this tonight.

Aisling Walsh's telefilm of the Priestley classic, first performed at London's Old Vic Theatre in 1945, opens out the action somewhat. It begins with a shot of Eva Smith (Lucy Rundle) writing in her diary in a lonely room, followed by a shot of some wooden floorboards, and two or three establishing shots of the Birling factory with a 1912 car moving out of the gates. Through this brief sequence we are given a clear idea of the class-differences permeating the film between the haves and the have-nots, the exploiters and the exploited, that forms one of Priestley's major themes.

Eva Smith does not appear in the Priestley text; in this version she is transformed into a hard-working girl who is not backward about coming forward. Hence she becomes an object of affection for factory-owner Arthur Birling (Ken Stott), his son Eric (Finn Cole), and Gerald Croft (Kyle Soller), the son of a rival factory-owner who is due to be affianced to Arthur's daughter Sheila (Chloe Pirrie). Yet it soon becomes clear that all of them treat her as an object to be picked up and cast aside at will; it's a tribute to Eva's strength of character that she manages to sustain her integrity throughout, until she gives up the ghost and commits suicide.

At the end of the film the floorboards shot is explained, as Eva describes herself as "a crack in the floorboards" - a member of the underclass who is allowed to fall through in a crassly unequal society. No one, it seems, is willing to treat her on her own terms as a human being.

Walsh's version also represents the Inspector (David Thewlis) as a mysterious figure moving slowly in the darkness towards the Birling residence, walking along a narrow slum in shadow, his bowler hat and long coat silhouetted, and visiting the dying Eva in hospital. We are left unsure as to whether he exists at all - especially at the end when he mysteriously disappears. But the question of his being isn't really important: what matters more is his ability to uncover the truth about the Birling family through patient, insistent questioning. Thewlis's expression remains impassive throughout - even if he despises the Birlings' superciliousness, he will never let his emotions get the better of him.

In the central moments of the drama, as the truth about the family was gradually revealed, Walsh used repeated close-ups to focus on the protagonists' changing expressions: Arthur's look of quiet confidence was transformed into an expression of utter despair as he ran his hands through his hair; his wife Sheila (Miranda Richardson) tried her best to retain an impassive exterior, but the tell-tale movements of her cheek and neck-bones betrayed her emotions. Her stoicism in the face of the inevitable truth-revelation was contrasted with Eric's expressions - at first he looked guiltily at everyone in full knowledge that he had been in some way responsible for Eva's death, but as the drama unfolded he acquired a strength of character as he tried to come to terms with his past.

Brilliantly performed and suggestively directed; this was a thoroughly televisual version of the play that reminded us of the persistence of social inequalities today.