Tradition Bound

Ismail Merchant and James Ivory’s Remains of the Day is one of the most charming movies I’ve seen....and also one of the most tragic.

This makes it sound like the film is a laugh-fest black comedy in the “Dr. Strangelove” vein. It’s not.

Nor is it a weep-fest. No, it’s more complex than that. Perhaps a good place to start is the story.

Remains of the Day concerns Stevens the Butler (Anthony Hopkins). Stevens is a butler in the traditional English mode circa pre-WWII: all-encompassing, rigid, disciplined, and an excellent servant for his master Lord Darlington at Darlington Hall. His loyalty is tested when he receives a new housekeeper by the name of Sarah Kenton (Emma Thompson). Over the course of their years working together Stevens and Miss Kenton begin to fall in love. So naturally, there is a choice that both must make. Duty or love.

Romantic comedies always have this predicament. The two love interests must overcome a series of obstacles, whether they be inward obstacles (i.e. fear of commitment, instant loathing for the other which is slowly becoming affection, and my personal favorite, “We’re just friends...”) or outward obstacles (parental disapproval, jealous jerks, or controlling shrews). Now being that this is comedy we know that eventually love must be the end result, yes? After all, comedies end happily and eventually the two lost souls will find each other.

Except that this never happens in this film. In that instant, the difference between tragedy and comedy is so painfully, heartbreakingly simple. It’s all a matter of finding each other. Stevens and Miss Kenton do not. That’s all there is to it.

It is the steps taken though that comprise the film. Stevens goes to visit his old housekeeper in the late 1950s where living one’s life has taken a backseat to professional loyalty. Stevens’ life is all but used up in the servitude of his new master a former U.S. senator played by Christopher Reeve But when he receives a letter from the now-married Miss Kenton in London, Stevens goes to make up for his bull-headedness. As he journeys to see her, he reflects on the lost opportunities he has had. Not only with love, but perhaps with himself.

His opportunities are many. In a telling scene, Stevens does not even stay with his father on his death bed. Miss Kenton, grievous and feeling for this stolid butler, implores Stevens to be with him. He chooses not to. His master needs him and duty calls. That’s all there is to it

English duty also affects Darlington, except in a more sinister and misguided way. Lord Darlington fought in the first World War and saw first-hand the consequences of Germany’s hubris. But he does not agree with the reparations enforced on Germany and supports appeasement for the Nazis. “I always thought that the fight ended as soon as you knocked the chap down,” he replies. And in a sense he’s right. Except that British pride and Christian love-of-thy-neighbor do not cut it anymore. Times are changing. As Christopher Reeve’s senator says, “You are all amateurs.”

To emphasize just how far Darlington’s moral compass has strayed, he fires two maids on account of them being Jewish. Of course, he doesn’t want to, you understand, but he doesn’t want to insult his Nazi friends. Miss Kenton asks Stevens if he supports Darlington’s views. No, he says, but he will support his master. His duty is to serve, not question.

A lot of understanding with “Remains of the Day” comes with understanding the English mindset. Really it’s a film about old ways passing into new. Both Darlington and Stevens are paralyzed by tradition. Britons are not bullies and butlers do not love.

Except moral compromises are the worst kind of compromises and love, not work, is life.

Okay, Darlington does not sound like the best kind of person and Stevens....well, Stevens needs his pulse taken. What’s the point?

The point is that films of high caliber have humanizing moments. The tragedy is not that Stevens does not love Miss Kenton. It is that he does love her and chooses not to acknowledge it or even act on it. Make no mistake, though. Stevens feels.

Consider this exchange between Stevens and Miss Kenton. Kenton kids Stevens about his tendency to hire pretty girls as maids. Stevens answers with the funniest and most charming line of the film, and also the line that reveals that he is flesh and blood. “You know what I’m doing now, Miss Kenton? I’m placing my thoughts elsewhere while you chatter away.”

Then there is the most erotic, yes, erotic moment of the film. Roger Ebert said that Merchant and Ivory films are about what is left unsaid or undone, not about the dialogue or action on screen. Miss Kenton corners Stevens in his room as he is reading a book. Again, she teases and flirts with Stevens asking him, even begging him, to tell her what he is reading. Stevens backs into a corner telling her that it’s his private time and he would prefer to be left alone. Kenton won’t budge and asks if it is racy and naughty, her eyes gleaming. Then she asks if he is trying to protect her and you can hear the love in her voice. Finally, and forcefully, she pries his hand open so she can see. Stevens’ look is fearful, yet longing. He raises his hand in protection. Don’t touch me. I’d die if you touch me. Finally, it is revealed that he has been reading a love story. He responds he reads to make up for his lack of education.

I saw this scene one time and thought, “He wants to touch her. He wants to touch her so badly.” I always come up with a passionate and predictable alternative where the two of them engage in desperate and overdue love-making. And that’s the power of the film. You want these two to consummate their love, but they don’t. This isn’t eros divine; this is eros denied.

And what was before a mildly charming film about a butler and a housekeeper descends into tragedy. Kenton, desperate for love and frustrated with Stevens, finds her future mate in Thomas Bend. She returns home to Darlington Hall and tells Stevens about her engagement. The look on his face, so subtle yet there, is of sadness and all he can muster is he has to go get some wine. Finally, though he relents and offers his congratulations. It is only after he drops the bottle that anger surfaces, and it is directed at the bottle. Kenton, understandably is crushed when he returns Well, aren’t you going to protest, put a stop to it, and say that you love her?

Again, I have a rather more positive and R or PG-13-rated alternate scene. But there’s not really a difference now anymore, is there?

The sooner Thompson and Hopkins reunite the better. The two of them shined in “Howard’s End” and the two of them shine here as well. Thompson brings a dignity and respect to Miss Kenton. This is especially true when Kenton gets married. Love passed her by long ago, and now she’s almost used to it. Thompson shows her pain, but also her endurance. It’s only pain. It won’t be as sharp after awhile.

With all due respect for Hopkin’s Oscar-winning turn as Hannibal Lecter, his performance as Stevens should be the one remembered. The hardest kind of acting is the kind where it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything. Stevens does not show emotion. He does not yell. He does not show pleasure. It’s all about subtlety. But you don’t want to be so subtle that you bore the audience. Hopkins does not bore and pulls off a non-showy role to perfection. This is unquestionably my favorite acting performance from him.

And if unrequited love doesn’t float your boat, you can concentrate on the Darlington situation. I admit that’s also a chief reason why I like the film. Setting the film on the eve of WWII adds a sense of tension to the film. English propriety is going to be turned on its head pretty soon. I don’t get that same kind of feeling from Howard’s End, although it is a great film about class differences and British pomposity. But the matter remains that there doesn't seem to be any urgency.

Also the film, as all great films do, means more as you age. In some ways, I feel everyone can relate to it. We live in a society where it is easy to be consumed by making money or fulfilling your financial obligations and forgetting to live your life and love. In some ways, maybe Stevens’ way is easier. Lonelier and unhappier, surely, but easier all the same.

And really Stevens and Miss Kenton’s story is what resonates, even when its ultimate outcome is all but carried out in front of your eyes. You know what will happen. You hate what’s going to happen. And you can do nothing. In the end, you feel just as powerless as Stevens.

And that’s all there is to it.