The Saddest Fucking Love Story Ever Committed to Film

I first saw James Ivory‘s Remains of the Day when I was a little younger and I thought it was absolutely brilliant. It re-united Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins from the Oscar runner-up, Howard’s End and had the latter give a career performance that far excelled the one seen in Howard’s and even Silence of the Lambs. But, at the time, I was a little too young to realize what the film actually represented. I recently rented Remains of the Day from a library and was surprised by just how differently the second viewing affected me. As the credits rolled, I felt I actually wanted to kill myself. And, oh, I still think Remains of the Day is absolutely brilliant... and beautiful.

If I were a director, looking for a profit, my choice for leads in a romance film would not be Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins, and yet, they are mostly responsible for the saddest fucking love story ever committed to film. It boggles the mind further how this “tale of passion” can primarily involve a butler and a housekeeper. Believe me, I was not hoping for Anthony Hopkin’s character (Mr. Stevens) to go and sketch the naked Miss Kenton (played by Thompson), yet I was feeling more empathy for these two people than for the lovers in Titanic. There are no nipples seen in this film; there isn’t even a kiss between the lovers; in fact, the “lovers” never once refer to each other by anything except family name. And, yet, as I’ve said before, this is the saddest fucking love story ever committed to film.

Perhaps Remains of the Day stirred the modicum of pathos in my soul because I’m not a fan of Gone With the Wind histrionics. Characters who cry and sulk onscreen seem to remedy themselves, and if they’re doing a particularly good job of crying and sulking for themselves, why do you need to help? The same thing applies in real life; there’s nothing more annoying than an extrovert in distress. What’s infinitely more poignant for me is when emotions are held in, and that’s all Remains of the Day is about: bottling things in. The movie is frustrating to the point you want to kill yourself, but it’s also deeply touching, and after you allow it all to sink in, perhaps even sublime.

The tale takes place at a particularly gorgeous estate in England called Darlington Hall. Inside the Hall, the stereotyped savoir-faire of the upper-class English is taken to obsessive levels, led by the butler, Mr. Stevens. Mr. Stevens, the film invites us to insinuate, has learned his punctilious etiquette from his father (Peter Vaughan). The fanatical appropriateness Mr. Stevens strives for is reflected by the fact that his first name is never revealed, and he rarely calls his own father anything asides, “Mr. Stevens.” Much of Remains of the Day is a flashback by Mr. Stevens, starting when good times start deteriorating. Two members of Mr. Stevens staff, including the housekeeper, run off to get married and he is forced to hire Miss Kenton as the new housekeeper. Miss Kenton is young and fiery, to Mr. Stevens initial disapproval and their master, Lord Darlington (James Fox), is going to get himself into trouble.

The Darlington Hall Mr. Stevens and Miss Kenton are responsible for is the place where a big international conference is held near the start of the film. We quickly realize that the era Remains of the Day focuses on is pre-WWII Britain and, in particular, the focus is on the nation’s eschewed practice of appeasement. The politics of the film run parallel to the love story that slowly forms between Mr. Stevens and Miss Kenton. Although the romance is by far the component of greater importance, the juxtaposition of the internal conflict suffered by Lord Darlington and that suffered by his butler is one of the artistic touches of this exquisitely cohesive film. Albeit, Remains of the Day, is a cohesively depressing watch.

Anthony Hopkins is the heart and soul of this film and he gives a performance, as Mr. Stevens, that is beyond words. How do you bring out the emotions of a living human character, when the prerequisite is to not show any emotion? Mr. Stevens has to endure the death of his father and see the woman he loves unhappily marry someone else, and yet Anthony Hopkins can’t portray the strong emotions his character obviously feels. What results is just a painstaking performance that I will never forget, and from an actor I don’t normally like. Some of the lines Hopkins’ delivers is truly haunting; such as when Miss Kenton tells Mr. Stevens his father has just died in an upstairs room; Mr. Stevens gives the tearless reply, “I’m very busy now; I will see to him later.” But you can tell Mr. Stevens is being torn apart inside.

And you can tell Mr. Stevens develops tremendous feelings of love towards Miss Kenton; feelings he stubbornly refuses to admit. Miss Kenton is a little more open, but still only manages to show her feelings in roundabout ways. I guess it would be more accurate to call Remains of the Day an implied love story than a love story and this makes it all the more painful to watch. I badly wanted to see Miss Kenton simply grab the foolishly blind Mr. Stevens and pry his lips open with her tongue, even though that would’ve probably been the most awkward cinematic moment next to, of course, that one in The Crying Game. As for Mr. Stevens, I was literally shouting profanities through my TV screen at him.

For better or worse, Mr. Stevens is probably one of the richest characters for analysis to be concocted and the complete maturity he insists to accost everyone with can only be viewed as utter immaturity. In a film that explores a time period when the duty towards peace would cost countless innocent lives, our central character is the incarnation of the appeasement attitude - his duty towards duty cost him his only chance at love. The regret Mr. Stevens feels is subtly expressed in the film’s few moments taking place in the present tense, as he takes a trek across the country to have one last, and pathetic, stab at claiming his love.

But this film is a tragedy, yet our protagonist does not die. Dead heroes, like extroverts in distress, usually induce a yawn in me. But heroes who are defeated but still linger by the story’s end vex my soul. Mr. Stevens, at the end, finally does get a sort of date with Miss Kenton, and the now-married (but unhappy) woman seems to still harbor deep desires for Mr. Stevens, and she's willing to give him one last shot to show his emotions. The film’s subdued climactic scene is simply unbearable, especially because just before it, our two “lovers” reveal the meaning of the film’s particularly sad and fitting title and we see that Remains of the Day could not have ended in any other way and still be effective. Just after the climax, we are finally allowed to breathe as the film ends beautifully in a symbolic scene that basically sums up the whole story. It’s a sigh of relief in a heavy, heavy-hearted film.

What Remains of the Day reveals is the meaning of true love, since we continually try to separate lust and love, and distinguish between what’s felt in the genitals and what’s felt in the heart. We believe true love should have absolutely nothing to do with a yearning in the gonads, but be instead an exclusive yearning in the heart. But that’s rare, if not nonexistent. Just what does it feel like? This movie shows you that it’s painful as shit and it’s a lot healthier to risk not being poetic and just show your love... conventionally.