My Cousin Rachel (12A)
THERE'S much to enjoy about this latest adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s 1951 novel, about a country heir who falls in love with his guardian’s widow, who may or may not be a gold-digger, even a murderess. It’s a full-blooded, authentic period drama, with another finely-tuned performance by Rachel Weisz, an actress who is never bad and often, as here, immensely seductive.
Unfortunately, the only thing wrong with the film is pretty fundamental: it doesn’t do what it says on the tin.
The novel is generally described as a romantic mystery, though it might also be called a psychological thriller. Much like du Maurier’s better-known Rebecca, it depends on ambiguity. The first film adaptation, in 1952 and starring Richard Burton and Olivia de Havilland, kept us guessing to the end, and beyond, as to the motivations and actions of its possibly scheming, possibly innocent Rachel. Yet it’s ambiguity that this version sadly lacks. It’s a mystery with very little mystery at all.
It opens with a young man asking in voice-over: “Did she, didn’t she? Who’s to blame?” This is Philip Ashley (Sam Claflin) the brooding young heir to a Cornwall estate in the early 19th century, reflecting on the events we’re about to see take place. For some viewers, just a few minutes in the man’s company may answer his own questions.
Years before, orphaned Philip is taken in by his older cousin Ambrose, growing up on his Cornish estate. Just as he returns as a young man from his education, Ambrose is taken ill and leaves for Italy’s warmer climate. His subsequent letters suggest a return to health, then a love affair and marriage, but then serious illness. By the time Philip arrives in Florence, Ambrose has died and his wife vanished.
Ambrose’s final letters rippled with suspicion and hatred of Rachel (Weisz), yet her absence in the dead man’s will and a bona fide death certificate suggest no wrongdoing. Nonetheless, Philip is keen on revenge. But when the worldly, beautiful, warm-hearted Rachel arrives on the estate, the angry young man gives way to a love-struck puppy ready to throw his whole inheritance at her.
The principals are all excellent. Weisz is very much a modern woman in this company, all delicacy and politesse on the surface, but with hidden (if not necessarily malign) depths; if Rachel is scheming, Weisz doesn’t show an iota of duplicity in her performance, even while the character fusses over her notorious herbal tea. Claflin is convincing as a headstrong and callow young man, deserving of a good slap every time he opens his mouth. Iain Glen is stiffly heartbreaking as the godfather who sees all his care amount to nothing, and Holliday Grainger equally touching as his daughter, in love with Philip but cast into the shade by the new arrival.
As a director, Roger Michell is an old hand (Notting Hill, The Mother, Le Weekend) and here he expertly orchestrates a gorgeous coastal setting, handsome interiors and a strong cast of both leads and supporting players (a rum old chap steals every scene as Philip’s decrepit servant) to convincingly create the life of the estate. A magical Christmas celebration and scenes in which Philip shows himself to be happy and at home in the company of his workers are particularly well done.
However, this film also marks the first time Michell has written his own screenplay. And it’s here that his work is less successful, because it really does stack the story towards a too-easy conclusion. The result is far riper and more entertaining than the original film, but less enigmatic.
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