Maurice Review
Written in 1914, but published only after its author's death because he didn't wish to cause a scandal, -Maurice is E.M. Forster's most personal novel, though it's also his least meaty. Unlike most of Merchant-Ivory's other Forster adaptations, then, Maurice boils its source material down to an essence without losing any of the flavor. As the callow title character, James_Wilby does a good job fumbling toward self-knowledge in a social landscape devoid of self-help manuals or vaguely respectable role models. His character's arc may have become a tad overfamiliar in the years since the book was written, let alone since the movie came out, but in the context of pre-World War I England, it resonates. Hugh_Grant, meanwhile, gets to have all the fun as Clive Durham, the lover who lapses from intellectual devotion into self-delusion as adulthood plies its many pressures. James_Ivory's script insists on depicting Clive as a clear-cut closet case rather than exploring the ambiguous conception of homosexuality in an era before modern ideas about sexual orientation had taken shape. It's to Grant's credit, then, that he makes Clive's inner torment so wrenching. Rupert_Graves' gay groundskeeper doesn't show up till the third act, but his unvarnished charm adds some much-needed grit and momentum to a film that sometimes seems to depict coming out of the closet as an endless attack of the vapors. Ultimately, Forster's conflation of working-class vitality with personal freedom is a little too pat for modern audiences. But, seen in its historical context as both a novel and a film, Maurice is as interesting as it is entertaining. Brian J. Dillard, Rovi
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