Reviews

I first encountered this version of A Little Princess, by far the best, on a PBS station in the Pacific Northwest. It must have been new then.

It was shown during a holiday season station fund-raiser and promoted by ghastly comments by an attractive — physically — woman who made the sorts of comments I would expect a rather silly grandmother to make to someone else's grandchild.

I was somewhat insulted, but when the film began settled for enchantment which was sufficiently strong to keep me around when the second installment (I think there were only two, but this was 20-odd years ago) came along next night, when I also learned that the picture would be replayed throughout the promo which allowed me to make a tape of it.

Although the script does not slavishly repeat every bit of the Burnett novel, it completely mirrors it, changing some situations and condensing in some areas. Most of the minor deviations from the plot I assumed — still do — were because Sara had to be shown growing up and the story had to fit within length restrictions. Amelia Shankley was superb as was her nemesis, played by Maureen Lippman. Seldom mentioned is her companion, scullery maid Becky, or many other fine characterizations.

Parts of the film are sad and, because we (viewers) have become fond of Sara, a little frightening at times. We wish, sometimes, that Sara in her times of trial would be more defiant but realize, too, that she must submit to survive and also to protect her friends.

As intended, Sara comes across — this mood is set even before the situations are defined — as a true heroine, when adversity befalls her. She remains compassionate toward and grateful to those who are her friends, including Melchizedek (you have to know the story) toward whom she is also a benefactor.

Shankley, the costumers and makeup artists, surmount the challenges of a growing and changing girl who eventually displays some signs of illness (scurvy perhaps?).

Sara and her story remain compelling and attractive after a lapse of more than 100 years and this filmed version remains so after 20 years, but can we not find so compelling a version of what is perhaps Francs Hodgson Burnett's finest tale childhood?

I have seen most screen versions of Jane Eyre and believe that the BBC version with Zelah Clarke and Timothy Dalton pretty much stands alone at the top of the heap. Jane (Clarke) is small, especially when seen beside Rochester (Dalton), which is the way it should be. Because of her "passionate" nature, Jane has learned generally to project a somewhat stoic impression which breaks down sometimes under extreme stress, as after the failed or prevented marriage. Clarke presents these contrasts extremely well, better than any I have seen. The script, although somewhat compressed as any story must be when lifted from a novel of this length, presents all the important components. I am enough of a Jane fan to wish that the series lasted at least another hour to two to show some other favorite parts and to include some more dialog, but nonetheless I am delighted anew every time I review this marvelous offering. My only negative, if it is a negative, is that Orson Welles, to my mind physically resembled Rochester far more than any other actor I have seen portray him. But Timothy Dalton, like Zelah Clarke as Jane, simply becomes Rochester. And a lament: When or when will there be a DVD version?

When I first saw this film on TV I was going through a bad time because of an expanding personal catastrophe. Although in no way really similar to the situation in "Griffin and Phoenix," my own problems -- and my somewhat romantic nature -- made me sympathetic to the situation realistically and lovingly created by Peter Falk and Jill Clayburgh.

It has become one of my favorite films of the kind. If it is in some respects not always happy, it is thus more true to life. Love is in some aspect always tragic, even when it ends happily in marriage; but love, if it is truly that, is unending and undying. I feel this motion picture should share that fate.