A long neglected film that simply MUST be rediscovered, this is John Ford’s notorious Jacobean drama ‘TIS PITY SHE’S A WHORE, adapted for the BBC by director Roland Joffé. Jacobean drama makes for a good fit with British television, as demonstrated by the impressive 1972 BBC dramatization of THE DUCHESS OF MALFI, and ‘TIS PITY… is even better.
Ford’s drama was previously adapted for film by Italian filmmaker Giuseppe Patroni Griffi in 1971. The present adaptation transposes the drama to Victorian England and (the archaic dialogue aside) the updating works quite well. Unusually for a BBC production of the time, it was shot on 16mm film on location, at the Charleston House country estate (as was THE DUCHESS OF MALFI).
Roland Joffé has, like many of his fellow BBC helmers, gone on to become a Hollywood bigshot (in high-profilers like THE KILLING FIELDS and THE MISSION) yet, also like many of his fellows, he never managed to best his early work. That work includes the wrenching BBC drama THE SPONGERS (1978) and this 1980 program. Only broadcast once, it disappeared for decades, and is currently available only in faded and scratched-up form–although the show’s underlying power still shines through.
A debauched variant on ROMEO AND JULIET, ‘TIS PITY SHE’S A WHORE begins with the obsessed Giovanni (Kenneth Cranham) professing his incestuous desires for his sister, the pretty young Anabella (Cherie Lunghi). “Just because I’m her brother my joys are to be forever barred from her bed?” he rages. Annabella for her part is set to be married to the dashing Soranzo (Anthony Bate).
Giovanni reveals his feelings directly to his sister one day, to which she initially seems startled, only to reveal that she actually shares his passion. The two make an unholy vow—“Love me or kill me, brother” she entreats, to which he replies “Love me or kill me, sister”—and promptly consummate their affection, not realizing that they’ve been overheard. Further trouble is provided by the scheming Hippolita (Alison Fiske), who is seeking to seduce Soranzo; when he spurns her affections she arranges to have him poisoned by the fiendish servant Vasques (Tim Pigott-Smith).
Anabella scandalizes her household first by turning down Soranzo’s marriage proposal and then by becoming pregnant. For this reason she’s forced to marry Soranzo—who isn’t happy about this turn of events, branding his beloved a whore and demanding she reveal the identity of her unborn child’s father. She, understandably, is hesitant to do so.
The poisoning decreed by Hippolita is supposed to occur at the wedding reception, but Vasques turns the tables and administers her the deadly poison—the first, it transpires, of many killings that turn the household upside down.
The naturalism of Roland Joffé’s earlier TV movies is put to excellent use here, in a drama that takes place entirely in and around the Charleston House. The action is supposed to unfold in different houses, but it clearly all occurs in a single location—and a mighty effective location it is, with the creaky floorboards and rough-hewed architecture (the spike-encrusted stairway bannisters in particular) accentuating the rawness of the drama.
Effective use is made of natural lighting, which gives the visuals an appropriately harsh, unburnished sheen, and of judiciously inserted close-ups (a shot of Annabella smiling surreptitiously at her brother’s entrance to an early scene is particularly affecting). The copious violence is also well handled, and with notable restraint given the subject matter. The emphasis, of course, is on the performances, which are impeccable, particularly those of Cherie Lunghi as Annabella and Tim Pigott-Smith as Vasques.
If the production has an overriding flaw it’s with the nearly 400 year old source material, which doesn’t transfer to the screen entirely harmoniously. The dialogue has been parsed considerably but is still quite dense, repetitive and at times incoherent, and the “comic” relief provided by a goofy couple whose antics periodically interrupt the drama is no longer funny (if indeed it ever was). More affecting are the changes Joffé and his collaborators have made to the narrative, including an ending that’s far bleaker than what John Ford offered—the bad guys win out here—adding a Thatcher-era political dimension to a play that otherwise shows its age all too well.
Vital Statistics
‘TIS PITY SHE’S A WHORE
British Broadcasting Corporation
Director: Roland Joffé
Producer: Richard Broke
Screenplay: Richard Broke, Roland Joffé, Kenneth McLeish
(Based on a play by John Ford)
Cinematography: Nat Crosby
Editing: Chris Wimble
Cast: Kenneth Cranham, Cherie Lunghi, Anthony Bate, Tim Pigott-Smith, Alison Fiske, Bernard Archard, Rodney Bewes, Ron Pember, Jeremy Child, David Ryall, Alan Webb