Of the three Henry James adaptations that have been carted up on screen in the last thirteen months, Iain Softley's "The Wings of the Dove" is, without a doubt, the best of the lot. Whereas Jane Campion's "The Portrait of a Lady" over-extended the original text to mount various feminist and independent points of view, and Agniezska Holland's "Washington Square" was a little too slavishly faithful to its source, Softley and screenwriter Hossein Amini have managed to pare down James' dense and convoluted text to its essentials. The adaptation, ruthless in its excisions, retains only the basic plot and characterizations (barring one significant change), but this enhances the narrative element of the story, and emphasizes the emotional undertow which has been rewritten as a subtext, in contrast to its primary position in James' work.

The film opens in London, 1910 (updated from James' original 1901). As Eduardo Serra's camera scans the underground station, a single figure amidst the crowd stands out - that of a woman. Kate Croy (Helena Bonham Carter), swathed in blue velvet, makes her way toward the train, and enters a crowded carriage. From a distance, Merton Densher (Linus Roache) gallantly stands and offers his seat to Kate, a gesture she coolly acknowledges, but accepts readily. When they alight, Merton follows Kate from a discreet distance, slowly closing in until the two of them are alone in the elevator. As the music soars, the couple inch closer and kiss passionately.

Newly taken under her Aunt Maude's (Charlotte Rampling) care, Kate is under strict orders from the older woman to avoid the mistakes her own mother made by marrying her father, Lionel Croy (an all too brief performance by Michael Gambon). Maude wants only the best for Kate, even if it means preventing her from seeing Merton, the man she loves. So secretly, the two skulk about London, meeting for afternoon trysts in the park, scurrying along walkways and stairwells, until Kate's newfound wealth and security are threatened by Maude's ultimatum. Unwilling to give her up, Merton relentlessly calls upon Kate, only to be met with her silent pleas to wait.

At a dinner, Kate befriends Milly Theale (Allison Elliot), the richest American heiress alive, and the pair become fast friends. Then Kate happens upon a startling piece of information: Milly is dying. Slowly, a plan forms in her mind, and she begins to draw Merton back into her circle, encouraging an affection between Milly and Merton, desperately seeing their eventual marriage and Millie's death as the only way for Merton and her to solve their differences of class and consummate their passion. Reluctantly agreeing to her plan, Merton and Millie soon become close friends, and afraid of losing her lover, Kate betrays her feelings, and Millie comes to understand the trap intended for her. Yet, she continues to love, to the point that upon her death, Kate and Merton are forever doomed to pine, in their own ways, the dead woman who loved them both.

Dramatic and potentially overwrought, "The Wings of the Dove" benefits greatly from Softley's restrained, elegant touch. Scenes which could have become campy and excessive are tightly reined in, so that the fiery passions James wrote about remain seething with palpable danger and urgency just beneath the aloof exteriors of the characters. His staging of the scenes is somewhat workman-like, but he manages to elicit uniformly excellent performances from his talented cast.

The supporting characters are finely realized by Elizabeth McGovern (one wonders where exactly she's been all these years), Alex Jennings and Charlotte Rampling. McGovern, in particular, given the thankless role of the doormat Susan Stringham, does exceptionally well with the material she is given. As the all-seeing but unseen companion to Millie who is the first to recognize the plan hatched by Kate, but who understands that Millie's last grasp at happiness may just require some duplicity, she makes her one-note character human and whole. By veiling Susan's motivations and responses, the character becomes an enigma in herself, and McGovern's biggest coup is to have her remembered by the audience over the overbearing Lord Mark characterization (necessary for the script, I must add, and no fault at all of the actor) offered by Alex Jennings, and the bitter resentment and jealousy of Charlotte Rampling's Aunt Maude.

Amongst the lead actors, Allison Elliot has the most mammoth task of personifying goodness without simpering nor becoming a martyr, and she succeeds to a certain extent. Millie, being the titular dove that departs in a blaze of love and glory, must be remembered fondly, not as a spoiler to Merton and Kate's romance - not difficult considering Kate is an unsympathetic character. It is to Bonham Carter's credit that Kate emerges as much a wounded victim as a cold calculative manipulator. By turning Kate's deceit into a manifestation of her desperation for love, Amini has given Bonham Carter her most complex role to date, and she balances the character's torn loyalties expertly. Opposite the two women, Roache holds his own very well. Densher could easily have become a weak spineless man, but Roache imbues him with a heroic stoicism and a tenderness which endears him to the audience.

Also worthy of special mention are Sandy Powell's costumes. With the use of hand painted fabrics and the clothing of characters in specific colours, Powell helps Softley greatly by providing him with a potent visual shorthand. Kate's ever-deepening blues, and Millie's consistently paling whites (indeed, in her final scene, she is seen swathed in ivory white - the colour of doves) emphasize the diametric distances between the two seemingly close and intimate friends. In this film, the costumes themselves play a compelling part, and I for one, am eager for Powell's work to be recognized.

Miramax has always been shrewd in its business strategies, and it is revealing that they have snagged the most accessible and "modern" adaptation of James' work and won nominations and nods from all the major critics in print and press. Whether audiences will respond as favorably remains to be seen, but judging from what I have seen, they really should.

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© Copyright 1997. If you've got anything to add, write me at terrybrogan@hotmail.com. Or don't. Whatever.