The title of a Henry James novella set in mid-19th century New England, filmed in a barely-changed New Ipswich by Merchant/Ivory productions in the fall of 1978.
The setting was authentic–a New Hampshire village; the season–a blazing autumn, gold fading into silver; the story–Old Europe on the make in New England; my part–a Boston nabob unable to make up his mind.
Stark contrast with impulsive Ross Poldark for me–and one I found difficult.
And I was playing with an impressionistic “American” accent opposite the real thing–Boston Brahmin daughter par excellence, and Oscar nominee, Lee Remick–herself playing with her best cut-glass English accent.
Poor stuck-in-the-mud Robert Acton was too rich, too comfortable and too complacent to contemplate the upheaval a life with a gold-digging, not-yet-divorced, European princess would put him through.
Years later Ruth Prawer Jabhvala, Merchant/Ivory’s perennial screenwriter apologized for writing me such a dull part.
In truth, the fault was not hers.
No matter. I have good memories of fellow actors–in particular, Kristin Griffith who played my sister, and Tim Choate–plus one extraordinary feast. And I loved spending weeks watching nature reflect the story, as the foliage changed colour and with it, the Princess’s prospects.
Tim Choate played Clifford.
That feast…
Independent film production is a hazardous business, and three-quarter’s way through the filming it became clear that the film was in financial difficulties (a scenario not unfamiliar to Merchant/Ivory productions).
I heard that in earlier days, producer Ismail Merchant would visit American film company offices in London (he lived in New York) offering a slice of freshly-baked apple pie–in exchange for the use of the telephone.
Around 5pm one Saturday afternoon, I returned to the unit base after filming, to find irrepressible Ismail unloading a number of large brown supermarket bags brimming with produce from his car.
“Hi Ismail–how’s it going?–can I carry something?”
“Very kind–perhaps a couple of these bags–to the kitchen….”
“What’s happening?”
“Indian feast. Eight o’clock this evening. Everyone is invited!”
“That’s in barely three hours time, Ismail!”
“You’ll see!”
I guessed that cast and crew were not to be the only guests at the table.
Other interested parties attended too–perhaps worried about their investments in the film.
On the dot of 8pm, the dining room doors of the unprepossessing Holiday Inn Leominster, Massachusetts (only Holiday Inn in the world without a swimming pool?) were flung open by Ismail, dressed like a maharaja–in his full Indian finery–not a bead of kitchen sweat visible–to reveal tables groaning under the weight of his sumptuous Indian feast.
After weeks of location catering and fast food suppers, we gulped it all down.
The film wrapped without further rumours–and ran for nine months at the Curzon Cinema in London.
It’s the 40th anniversary of the release–and the film has been restored and is being re-released.
James Ivory, the director and the other half of Merchant/Ivory recently won an Oscar for best-adapted screenplay and is working on another. He’s 91!
Ismail Merchant–whose refrain was always “Everybody loves our films!”–died in 2005. (And incidentally, he wrote several cookbooks too!)
Their partnership was the longest in the history of independent film production–44 years.
