SHADOWLANDS: Blu-ray (Savoy Pictures, 1993) Universal Home Video

C.S. Lewis was an extraordinary renaissance man, much of which gets lost in director, Richard Attenborough’s Shadowlands (1993), an inadequate attempt to completely investigate Lewis’ robust and fascinating life. That the screenplay by William Nicholson, based on his play, succeeds at all in revealing the nature of the man is neither a minor miracle nor affecting hokum, but rather a skillful tribute made under the duress of that creative concision all scribes who write for the movies suffer, to make something plucked from their favorite tatters in any extraordinary life. In this, Shadowlands remains a momentous achievement. Nicholson knows precisely how to get to the heart of the man without actually to vivisect all of its functioning parts.  The real Lewis, whom we meet only in fitful sparks of Nicholson’s creative genius, was a Belfast-born agnostic. As a child, reared in a religious household, he was an avid reader obsessed with anthropomorphic animals, especially after the death of his beloved dog. Lewis was also captivated by ancient Norse and Greek legends. As he matured, Lewis experimented with all manner of authorship, from poetry to opera. His conscription into WWI, seeing action in Somme Valley, France, left an indelible impression, fostering his pessimism about humanity's altruism, to also make him very angry with God.

By 1921, Lewis had traded Celtic mysticism for Christian theology, his waggish prejudice towards the English to fire his Irish wit and, rather uniquely, forever to distance him from his adopted nation. Lewis’ masterwork, ‘Mere Christianity’ was as much a coming to terms with the contradictions of ecumenical Christianity as it proved another demarcation of his playful disdain for English arrogance and hypocrisy. As is oft the case with brilliant minds, Lewis was rather clumsy in matters of love, to remain almost exclusively a confirmed bachelor. His fascination with Scottish writer, George MacDonald began to convince Lewis, Christianity was not a wash. His total conversion to Christianity came about ten years later, almost as an accidental epiphany in which Lewis would forever view the doctrines of Christ from an un-jaundiced skew, and quite possibly, with the most resilient clarity ever afforded an agnostic. Choosing to be Anglican, Lewis embraced all factions of religion. Forty at the outbreak of WWII, Lewis harbored refugee children, gave lectures, spoke on religious BBC broadcasts, and, became thoroughly entrenched in his faith. Honored to become the first President of the Oxford Socratic Club in 1942 (a position he held until his resignation in 1954), Lewis was also afforded the Commander of the Order of the British Empire by George VI – an honor he respectfully declined so as to remain publicly aloof in his political affiliations.

Apologies in advance to those who find this sort of Cole’s Notes through Lewis’ storied past either a genuine bore or a renewed debasement of his formidable body of work, not to be mentioned in more concerted depth herein. But it does help us to see the C.S. Lewis we finally meet in Shadowlands, as miraculously manifested by thespian extraordinaire, Sir Anthony Hopkins in a more clairvoyant light, more the author than the man, and, navigator of a unique, divine sensitivity that in youth had been the very anathema to his existence.  Such an ‘about face’ is decidedly owed the inquisitive mind. The opportunity to rewrite what was only thought to be known at the outset of life. Shadowlands picks up Lewis’ storied past from here, as he accepts the position of chair in Mediaeval and Renaissance Literature at Magdalene College, Cambridge. There, he meets the forthright American authoress, Joy Davidman Gresham whom, upon her death, Lewis would champion as his entire world – “My daughter…mother…pupil…teacher…subject… sovereign…trusty comrade, friend, shipmate, fellow-soldier. My mistress…but at the same time all that any man friend had ever been to me. Perhaps more.” Upon her divorce from an alcoholic husband, Joy began to steadily attain her place as Lewis’ all. She came to England with two sons. The movie cuts this down by one – easier to handle the penultimate bonding between Lewis and the younger, David.

The title, Shadowlands is actually lifted directly from Lewis’ novel, The Last Battle – depicting a desolate wasteland from whence the characters of his highly popular children’s series, The Chronicles of Narnia have fled. In Shadowlands’ final, and monumentally heartrending contemplation on safety and suffering, Hopkins’ stoic Lewis asks the question, “Why love, if losing hurts so much? I have no answers anymore. Only the life I have lived. Twice in that life I have been given the choice…as a boy, and as a man. The boy chose safety, the man – suffering. The pain now, is part of the happiness then.  That’s the deal!”  And indeed, this too is the essence of Lewis’ life-long contemplation, profoundly amplified, because of his brief and wonderful happenstance with the American divorcee, forever to better inform his understanding and compassion.  William Nicholson’s screenplay, referenced as a three-hankie soap opera with a Rhodes scholarship, is, in fact, a lyrical tome to Lewis’ late-in-life quixotic epiphany, shared with plainspoken American poet, Joy Gresham. For concision, certain aspects of this grand amour are cut short by Gresham’s affliction with bone cancer.

Shadowlands is based on Nicholson’s1985 television drama, itself, inspired by ‘I Call It Joy’ – originally written by Brian Sibley and Norman Stone - also, Nicholson’s later stagecraft, written in 1989. The movie borrows its title – Shadowlands – abbreviated from Sibley’s novelized account of the couple: Shadowlands: The True Story of C.S. Lewis and Joy Davidman. Sumptuously photographed by Robert Pratt, Shadowlands – the movie – is an exquisite drama, expertly played by Sir Anthony Hopkins, who bears no earthly resemblance to Lewis, yet still manages to embody the man with masterful strokes of his own acting genius. The picture co-stars Debra Winger as Joy, and, in hindsight, it remains her last memorable film role. Playing the no-nonsense Joy seems to have fed into the actress’ real-life reputation for being ‘difficult’. This Joy brooks no nonsense. She also does not suffer fools – her unvarnished clarity, a distinct breath of fresh air in Lewis’ otherwise shuddered – and safe – academia, left to expound upon his theories behind ivy-covered walls with a small contingent of his contemporaries, for whom, deconstructing each other’s theses is something of a blood sport. Winger was Oscar-nominated for Shadowlands, but lost to Holly Hunter for The Piano. Later in life, Winger addressed the backlash that dogged her after Shadowlands, despite receiving high praise for her work from none other than Bette Davis in a Barbara Walters’ interview in 1986. “I see a great deal of myself in Debra Winger,” Davis admitted. 

Winger’s withdrawal from Hollywood shortly after the debut of Shadowlands – then, marked as a self-imposed hiatus, was first signaled as par for her generous contempt for Hollywood. But actually, Winger attributed her decision to leave the picture-making biz on a gnawing insecurity. “I wanted out for years,” she recalled in 2002, “I got sick of hearing myself say I wanted to quit. It's like opening an interview with 'I hate interviews!' Well, get out! I stopped reading scripts and stopped caring. People said, 'We miss you so much.' But in the last six years, tell me a film that I should have been in. The few I can think of; the actress was so perfect.” Winger’s part in Shadowlands – although the female lead – is fairly incidental. Instead, the focus here is on Lewis’ subtle conversion, from esteemed public speaker to inwardly liberated student of life. “We read to know we are not alone,” one of Lewis’ students, Peter Whistler (James Frain) suggests to his mentoring professor, quoting from his own, now deceased, father who was also an educator. The secondary relationship between Whistler and Lewis, begun on an adversarial note after Lewis finds Whistler sleeping through one of his lectures, steadily evolves into a mutual and richly satisfying friendship, and, is the ideal counterpoint to the stuffy semantics Lewis is otherwise obliged to entertain from his esteemed colleagues. Most condescending of the lot, though with a queer ‘sporting’ quality, is Christopher Riley (John Wood), who delights at poking and pluming Lewis’ psyche, perhaps in the hopes of unearthing the truest wellspring of his genius.

But the real C.S. Lewis – who went by the name of ‘Jack’ to his friends, as he detested ‘Clive Staples’, was to remain the enigma of the authentic academic. “I’m not certain God wants us to be happy,” Lewis astutely assesses, “He wants us to grow up.” And indeed, much of Lewis’ latter-day authorship was skewed to a fervent desire to both comprehend and intellectualize the mysteries of life and God’s place in all of ours, if only to satisfy his own burgeoning belief in the divine. “Joy,” Lewis speculates, “…is the serious business of heaven. There is but one good; that is God. Everything else is good when it looks to Him and bad when it turns from Him. And there are only two kinds of people: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, ‘All right, then, have it your way.’” Yet, Lewis was to acknowledge the impossibility of ever truly attaining enlightenment on earth. “The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self…all your wishes and precautions - to Christ.”

In his lengthy tenures as an academic of English literature - at Oxford University (Magdalen College, 1925–1954), then, Cambridge University (Magdalene College, 1954–1963), Lewis took his vocation as seriously, perhaps even more so, than his authorship, reasoning that “The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles but to irrigate deserts.” Still, his reputation among young readers is forever secured with his allegorical novel, ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ – the first, in a seven-part fantasy series following the exploits of four English children, relocated to a large country estate during WWII’s evacuation, and, who come to experience the fantastical land of Narnia, populated by talking animals and mythical creatures ruled by an evil, White Witch. The novels are dedicated to Lewis’ goddaughter, Lucy Barfield, but their far-reaching aptitude to inspire even the young at heart to dream, proved the real magic elixir in Lewis’ authorship. “Since it is so likely children will meet with cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage.”

Shadowlands picks up Lewis’ personal story in 1956, after many years of well-ordered complacency. Perhaps, the spark has gone out of being an educator. Lewis is merely contented to challenge his students on the machinations of love – unattainable, platonic, or otherwise. His lectures, on God’s purpose for us all, draw vast crowds in the ladies’ auxiliary. But his fellow academics find Jack something of a beloved populist – as it stands to reason, anyone as widely acclaimed cannot be as good a theologian.  Having settled into the autumn of his years, Lewis and his brother, Major Warnie Lewis (Edward Hardwicke) live in a pastoral cottage. But their ensconced bachelorhood is mildly upset after Jack agrees to entertain a chance meeting, respectable – no less – inside a hotel restaurant, with American poet, Joy Gresham, after she has written him an admiring correspondence.  Their ‘cute meet’ is fraught with clumsy exchanges. The forthright Gresham appears to thrive on being confrontational from the moment the bloom has worn off their cordial handshake. Having received her as mere courtesy, much to his surprise, and everyone else’s chagrin, Jack finds himself strangely intrigued by Joy, and invites her and her young son, Douglas (played with remarkable sincerity by Joseph Mazzello) to stay with him over the Christmas holiday.

Jack soon learns Joy is estranged from her husband. Douglas is a sad, sensitive child, who is taking his parent’s separation hard. Alas, the boy becomes more than a little disillusioned when, upon discovering a wardrobe in Lewis’ upstairs attic, he cannot seem to locate the secret, magical porthole to Narnia lurking, as described by Lewis in his books, just beyond it. As Douglas is a huge fan of Lewis’ novel, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, he feels sincerely cheated. After Christmas, Joy and Douglas return to America and Lewis quietly continues his lecture circuit. However, he is somehow changed for having known Joy, and, in the intervening months, is surprised at just how much he misses her. Happily, Joy resurfaces as a face in the crowd, attending one of his speeches. Joy confides she has taken up temporary residency in London with Douglas, as her husband, having announced his affair with another woman, has since divorced her and moved on. As Joy is unable to remain in England permanently, she proposes a marriage of convenience. Lewis agrees to wed in name only at a Justice of the Peace. However, as time passes, Lewis comes to regret this decision, fearing he has betrayed the sanctity of marriage. At this juncture, Joy falls ill. An x-ray reveals she has advanced stages of bone cancer in her femur.  Enduring painful radiation treatments, while Joy convalesces in hospital, Lewis and Warnie move her things into their home, with Lewis, caring for Douglas, who resents the disease afflicting his mother.

During this trying time, Lewis is resolved to pray most fervently to God to spare Joy’s life. His prayers appear to have been answered when Joy does make an astounding recovery. Moving into Lewis’ home to continue her recuperation, Joy spies a sketch of ‘the Golden Valley’ hanging on the wall in her husband’s study. Asked if the location is real, Lewis says he believes that it is, and, as Joy regains her strength, she encourages Lewis to take her there for their honeymoon. The real Joy and Jack vacationed in Greece. In Attenborough’s movie, however, the couple make their pilgrimage to the west country, staying at a quaint country inn. Their motorcar journey takes them to the exact spot depicted in the sketch.  They make their way down the hillside into a lush valley. An impromptu thunder shower forces the couple to take refuge inside a nearby barn. Only now, Lewis confides he has never been happier. If only he did not fear God to learn of his pleasure and deny him of it prematurely. Indeed, upon returning home from their respite, Joy and Lewis are left to enjoy barely a month before her cancer returns. This time, the news is devastating. As Joy’s condition worsens, Lewis asks to wed her again – legitimately, with a Vicar and her son present as a witness. From her hospital room, a second wedding is conducted. Joy is sent home. Jack relocates her bed to the downstairs study where he remains vigilant at her side day and night. Joy asks her husband to look after Douglas once she is gone. In the morning, Lewis awakens with a startle to discover Joy has died during the night.

After the funeral, Lewis distances himself from Douglas – each, dealing with their loss in silent desperation. Warnie encourages Lewis to talk to the boy but to no avail. Lewis is also reunited with Peter Whitaker, one of his pupils, whom he once admonished for napping in his class. Later, unbeknownst to Whitaker, Lewis spies him in a book seller’s shop, pilfering a novel without being caught. Making a trip to his dormitory, Lewis asked if there was anything he might do to help. But Whitaker, bitter and suffering from the angst of losing his own father, then refused Lewis’ charity. Now, at the end of his journey with Joy, Lewis meets Whitaker on a train, learning that in the year since passed, Whitaker has become a teacher just like his father, and, with all bitterness removed from his heart, fancies he has found, not only his vocation in life, but also a genuine reason to hold to the promise for the future. Buoyed by this last encounter, and prodded by Warnie, Lewis finds Douglas alone in the attic and makes a valiant attempt to reach out to him. In this penultimate revelation, the boy and the man are reunited in their contemplative grief, each, sobbing uncontrollably as they embrace in a cathartic release. In the final moments of our story, Lewis and Douglas stroll together to the hillside just beyond their home. In a voice-over, Lewis recognizes the pleasure he once knew with Joy is now counterbalanced by the pain he must endure in her absence. This is the bargain he made with God. This is life. This is the truth of being human and imperfect.

Shadowlands is monumentally satisfying. Superficially, it is a wistful tear-jerker that strikes directly at the heart. And yet, it manages, with an even more elusive tenacity, to unshackle the human spirit from its demystifying illusions about life and love. Few works of art have had such a profoundness of clarity. Hopkins and Winger strike an indelible chord as the unlikeliest of couples. As in life, on celluloid there was nothing about this chance encounter that ought to have made for a relationship. And yet, it did. George Fenton’s score captures the ephemeral and blossoming quality of love, while elevating its tragedy beyond the maudlin eloquence usually ascribed romantic movies. Roger Pratt’s cinematography is a visual feast – the interiors, lensed with a gauzy warmth, lit mostly by candlelit and/or roaring hearths. The exteriors are like sketches, done in an earthier and rustic pastoral lushness, typified by sun-filtered afternoons, damp/warm impromptu rain showers, and, the enveloping silver denseness of an early morning fog.  Nicholson’s screenplay avoids the usual clichés in a burgeoning romance. Instead, the audience is as caught off guard as Lewis. This is not a tale about a woman out to land herself a husband, or a man who ‘like My Fair Lady’s Henry Higgins, grows accustomed to a face he can no longer imagine his own life. Rather, what emerges is a tender character study whose tropes are dissolved in performance as in life to reveal the truest nature of experienced/then denied romantic longing.

Forced into precisely such an absence by fate, Lewis must reinterpret the purpose of his own pain and suffering. Is this truly God’s way of perfecting the soul, by carving out the wrong parts to prepare for its heavenly ascent? Shadowlands is finely wrought and handsomely crafted. It dares to punctuate a point rarely expressed in popular entertainments; that the purest form of love is oft denied physical desire. Winger’s fragile and fast fading flower endures this delicate strain of adjustment, steeped in her avid certainty that the uppermost pastime is to enrich the life of another in unanticipated ways. Convincing Lewis of as much is Joy’s greatest conquest. Arguably, it remains her lasting victory against the darkness, though arguably, one very few people can claim to intimately understand. Shadowlands is a picture that arguably, the real C.S. Lewis would have embraced. The author of more than thirty books, many greatly affected by his reinforced Christian beliefs, had gained widespread popularity throughout the war years. With Joy’s death in 1960, the cares of the world weighed more heavily. A scant 3 years later, Lewis would also pass away from renal failure, one week shy of his 65th birthday. In the years since his time, his literary masterworks have only continued to ripen with age; timeless in their deep and brooding philosophical genius, as genuine and germane to the world at large as ever.

Shadowlands received a bare-bones mastering from Universal Home Video in 2017. Alas, the results, as with everything Uni puts out, are a mixed bag. For starters, there is a lot of edge enhancement baked into the main titles, and, in a few scenes immediately following thereafter. The image is unstable, with haloing and minor gate weave. Colors are punchy, though perhaps, too much – flesh tones always intensely pink or ruddy brown/orange. Film grain looks indigenous to its source, but age-related artifacts still crop up from time to time. This is a middling effort at best and soooooo disappointing Uni has yet to get on board with the idea lovers of physical media deserve better – the best, in fact, any studio can offer. What we have here is a digitally scrubbed presentation, rarely to attain the actual look of 35mm film stock. The audio is 2.0 DTS and adequate for this primarily dialogue-driven movie. There are NO extras, and, even more idiotically, NO chapter stops. The movie, once inserted, plays immediately and to the end, then - begins from the beginning. Bottom line: while the Blu of Shadowlands is far from perfect, the entertainment value to be gleaned from the experience of seeing it again is so affecting and rare, I highly recommend this disc for content.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

0