The Browning Version (1951) - CRITERION Dual Audio Re-Issue

At a London prep-school, reviled teacher Andrew Crocker-Harris (Michael Redgrave) prepares for semi-retirement. Suffering ill health, a failed marriage, and the derision of his peers, Crocker-Harris (nicknamed ‘The Crock’) has given up on life. But that afternoon, a student gives Crocker Harris an unexpected gift, which prompts him to reevaluate his past, and prepare for his future.


Someone once said that you learn more from your failures than you do from success. Almost all movies about teachers are about successes. Dead Poet’s Society, To Sir With Love, even Sister Act 2 all focus on charming professors who inspire a love of learning into their surly charges. The Browning Version is an anti-Dead Poet’s Society. And while many aspire to the wacky charisma that is Robin Williams, Michael Redgrave’s soft and subtle performance of a man who failed is infinitely more touching.


The story begins with the last day of school, and the announcement that Professor Andrew Crocker-Harris is leaving to take up a new position. In his class, Crocker-Harris is dull, bitter, and unfeeling, especially compared to the lively science teacher Mr. Hunter (Nigel Patrick). At Crocker-Harris’ home we learn that Hunter, in fact, has been having an affair with Crocker-Harris’ wife, Millie (Jean Kent).


While the faculty wives pity Millie for marrying Crocker-Harris, Millie is in fact a cruel, bitter woman who despises her husband. She is a passionate soul, given to jealousy and melodrama. Her performance would be over the top if not balanced by the English reserve of Redgrave’s character. Crocker-Harris seems to barely notice her cold treatment of him. When Hunter returns a cigarette case she gave him, (thus signaling the affair is over), and Millie drops the case and begins weeping heavily. When Crocker-Harris walks by, he simply picks up the case and puts it on the desk, right next to his sobbing wife.


But regardless of these actions, Andrew Crocker-Harris is not heartless. At one point, he returns to his classroom to retrieve his papers, and meets his replacement, Gilbert (Ronald Howard). Gilbert says, quite lightly, that Crocker-Harris is referred to as the “Himmler of the lower fifth.’ Crocker-Harris, in his slow, bewildered, eccentric way of talking, wonders at when the students started to hate him. He knew that they never could like him, but he enjoyed being laughed at as a character. That sometimes he would exaggerate his own idiosyncrasies so the students could mock him more easily. He has such a deep need for love and affection that he wants to be made fun of, because even people laughing at him is something.


Crocker-Harris is so matter-of-fact about the way that he’s so universally hated you would think nothing more could effect him. He endures a thousand little slights that day, just one more day in the thousand that went before. But that afternoon, one of his students comes to say goodbye, and gives Crocker-Harris a gift, It is a translation of a Greek play he was teaching, a version written by Robert Browning. The old, tired man is overcome. If you aren’t weeping like a baby during this scene, you don’t have a soul.


In most teacher movies, the teachers are golden and reckless. They have the stage presence of a Vegas headliner and the down-to-earth insight of a big brother. They are easily respected and loved. They are superhuman. Andrew Crocker-Harris, on the other hand, is accused of being less than human. He’s a man who was lost to the daily grind. By the end, Crocker-Harris finally begins to revive, looking forward to the future. But he is always a real person. He is always capable of the same frailties and weaknesses that we all are. He wants to be loved and respected, and actually finds it hard. The Browning Version is a film about compassion, humanity, and hope. And unlike all those other teacher movies, real people can actually relate to it.


We all remember our best and worst teachers. The best were like Robin Williams in Dead Poets' Society (or Jack Black in School of Rock), livewire bundles of energy with a passionate enthusiasm for their subject and an equally firm belief that they were on a mission to improve the lives of their pupils out of all proportion to the requirements of their job description. And the worst were the plodding, pedantic, humourless dullards, many of whom had only entered the profession because of lack of success elsewhere and who favour discipline and conformity over intellectual stimulation. Classics teacher Arthur Crocker-Harris is very much in the latter group, or so it initially seems. But as the film progresses, and the full range and subtlety of Michael Redgrave's riveting performance is gradually revealed, vast emotional vistas are opened up as the true tragedy of Crocker-Harris' situation is laid bare. His marriage is threatened by his wife's affair with a colleague, his declining health is forcing a premature end to his career and the curtailment of his hoped-for pension, and he is cordially loathed by his students - with one crucial exception. This is young Taplow (Brian Smith), whose unexpected discovery of Crocker-Harris' brilliant past leads to a shy, hesitant attempt at rekindling his passion for ancient literature via Robert Browning's translation of Aeschylus' Agamemnon (a work Crocker-Harris himself tried to render into English as a youth). This relationship might well be mawkish (or worse) in less assured hands, but it's gravely moving here.


The superb supporting cast includes Wilfrid Hyde-White as the Machiavellian headmaster, Jean Kent as Crocker-Harris's appalling wife, and Nigel Patrick as her belatedly conscience-stricken lover. But the film is primarily a career peak for Redgrave, director Anthony Asquith and long-term collaborator Terence Rattigan, who adapted and opened out his own one-act chamber piece with a technical and structural finesse that justifies his reputation as one of the mid-20th century's most accomplished British playwrights. There have been at least half a dozen other screen Browning Versions, including Mike Figgis' 1994 cinema remake with Albert Finney, but this remains definitive.


Extras. Some may be familiar with this film from a powerful remake directed by Mike Figgis in 1994 starring Albert Finney, Greta Scacchi, Matthew Modine, and Julian Sands. In the extras on this DVD there is an interview with Figgis talking about the brilliance of British films of the time and specifically about Terence Rattigan, the man responsible for the screenplay of this film and the play that it is based upon. Figgis’ discussion of stoicism and his simplification of the character of Crocker-Harris and explanation of the British school system will help the viewer better understand the character and film. Another extra is an interview with the star of the film, Michael Redgrave, which was aired on British television in 1958. It only touches lightly upon his character in the film, but is illuminating nonetheless. An important man behind the scenes is the director, Anthony Asquith. He had a skill for adaptation — although he had been more adventurous and flamboyant in his direction of earlier films, he had become more restrained and understated in his later movies. There is much more on him in the accompanying booklet that is worthy of further examination. The Browing Version may seem a bit slow by today’s standards of films, but its ability to draw characters so well and preserve the dramatic element without perfect believability is impressive. It’s a classic and shouldn’t be missed.


This XviD version has been ripped to fit on one third of a single-layer DVD.
An audio commentary may be listened to by selecting Audio Stream 2 on your media player, or by hitting the Audio button on your standalone player's remote control.
For the uncompressed DVD9 and booklet please see CerealRipper's original post.