When works of literature go to the movies, it’s usually an unpleasant sight. There are noble exceptions, however, which are worthy of praise. The film adaptions of two literary classics come to mind. First is the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, starring Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy and Jennifer Ehle as Elizabeth Bennet. Whenever I see this five-hour rendition of Miss Austen’s novel, I find myself astonished anew that it contains so much of the timeless brilliance of the author’s eminent good sense and sagacious sensibility and so little of the salacious pride and priggish prejudice of our own deplorable epoch. This is reversed in the more recent 2005 version, starring Matthew Macfadyen and Keira Knightley in which the charming Miss Bennet is transformed into a clone of the zeitgeist: all feminasty and feminazi with no femininity. The difference between the two versions is literally and literarily abysmal, in the sense that a true abyss separates them. On one side of the irreconcilable divide is the grace and greatness of Jane Austen’s original novel; on the other is nothing but grossness and grittiness. On one side is decorum; on the other, decadence.

The same abyss separates the 1980s British TV adaptation of Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited from the 2008 version, the earlier version being as faithful to Waugh’s original as the latter is faithless to it. The fidelity of the former is evident, first and foremost, in the fact that it follows the storyline of the novel very closely and unhurriedly, the series being eleven hours long. As with the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, the casting is truly superb, not merely in the principal parts played by Jeremy Irons, Anthony Andrews and Diana Quick as Charles Ryder and Sebastian and Julia Flyte, but in the quality of the actors who played the less prominent roles. Shakespearean actors of the calibre of Sir Laurence Olivier and Sir John Gielgud played Lord Marchmain and Edward Ryder respectively, with the latter being as hilarious on the screen as was his namesake on the page. Claire Bloom presents Lady Marchmain with the dignitas and gravitas that she demands; Simon Jones conveys the quirky yet quietly formidable Bridey with appropriate aplomb; Phoebe Nicholls is delightful as the irrepressibly pious Cordelia; Charles Keating convinces as the crass and cocksure “hollow man”, Rex Mottram; and Nicholas Grace is outlandishly outrageous as the “queer fish”, Anthony Blanche.

If this otherwise flawless adaptation has one weakness, it is the failure to leave us at the door as discreetly and decorously as does Waugh when Charles and Julia cross the threshold into the ship’s cabin where they will cross that other threshold from casual friendship to carnal intimacy. Waugh would never have permitted his readers to cross the threshold with his characters at such moments; he would never have allowed them to become voyeuristic flies on the wall, knowing that such a lascivious indiscretion on his part would only cheapen the artistic integrity and beauty of the work, the fly on the wall becomes the fly in the ointment.

These defects in the otherwise essentially flawless 1980s adaptation, pale into insignificance beside the more recent film adaption which is nothing less than a complete travesty. The reason for the abject failure of the 2008 version is made manifest in its brazen and unabashed anti-Christian agenda. Since Waugh had stated explicitly in the preface to the second edition of Brideshead Revisited that its theme was “the operation of divine grace on a group of diverse but closely connected characters”, the arrogant enmity with God in the film adaptation represents an inversion and perversion of the very spirit of Waugh’s masterpiece. This is evident in the climactic moment of Lord Marchmain’s deathbed conversion, in which the “operation of divine grace” is replaced with the almost demented and tormented enmity between Julia and Charles, whose relationship has been wrecked by Julia’s superstitious inability to sever herself from the hateful God who is ruining her life. Whereas the novel ends with Charles Ryder’s implied conversion to Catholicism, the film ends with his apparently remaining a resolute atheist or agnostic. Such inversion and perversion of Waugh’s vision turns the 2008 version into a veritas vampire which sucks the goodness, truth and beauty from the story, the operation of divine grace which is its very life-giving Life. All that’s left in its place is a walking corpse, a lifeless phantom of the culture of death.

It is more than a little ironic that Jane Austin’s cautionary tale about the dangers of pride and prejudice should be perverted by those who are prejudiced against it because of their pride. It is also ironic that Brideshead, a figurative representation of Christ the Bridegroom within the grace-filled context of the novel’s theme, should be revisited by those who hate the Bridegroom. Hating the marriage, these perverters and “adapters” of the truth are the devil’s advocates who desire the “Great Divorce” which the devil advocates. As C. S. Lewis warns in his book of that title, those who choose the Great Divorce are turning their back on the Bridegroom and choosing to live in His absence. They are freely choosing the hell that their pride and prejudice demand.

As for Jane Austen, Evelyn Waugh and those who faithfully adapt their work in the true Christian spirit in which they were written, they are advocates of the divine grace that animates and directs the divine comedy. As Jane Austen and Evelyn Waugh both knew, the divine comedy, like all good comedies, ends in a marriage, and not any mere marriage but in the marriage in which we will live happily ever after.

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