Quartet

James Ivory wanted to make a film set in Paris in the twenties and so chose Jean Rhys Quartet, the weakest of her four Paris set novels, as a vehicle for Adjani, Bates and Smith, when he would have been better suited to adapting Hemingway or Fitzgerald.It is faithfully adapted, apart from the insertion of a couple of night club scenes, with musical numbers and a brief scene, including full-frontal male nudity, in a pornographer’s photographic studio, completely alien to the novel.It is beautifully photographed by the great Pierre L’Homme, who worked with Rohmer, Bresson, Eustache and Melville, and went on to collaborate with James Ivory on several more projects.The ending, in a seedy hotel and cobblestoned rue at night is pure, 100 per cent proof, unadulterated Rhys and a joy to behold and worth the price of admission.The story of adultery and abuse is probably unique in that all four of the protagonists left accounts of the events, each from their own perspective. What a film that would make.It is worth noting that the Alan Bates character, based on Ford Maddox Ford, undoubtedly abused Rhys but he also recognised her writing ability and was instrumental in getting her early short stories and Quartet published.Rhys is, without doubt, gloomy, and therefore uncommercial, which is why no-one has dared film her masterpiece, Good Morning Midnight. I dream of a film, with Isabelle Huppert in the lead, but no modern, health conscious actress could hope to embody the ravages of time and alcohol on the body and soul of Sacha.The print on view is a beautiful restoration, with extensive interviews with Pierre L’Homme and James Ivory, where he spends his time justifying the film that failed at the box office on the original release in the forlorn hope that it will now be better understood and appreciated. Sadly, and despite its many fine qualities, it is destined to remain minor Ivory and probably only of interest to fans of the stars.