The Times 28 Feb 2015 |
'I think of
Poldark as part Rochester, part Heathcliffe, part Rhett Butler'
Poldark, the
smuggling and swashbuckling hit of 1970s TV, is back with Aidan Turner as the
swarthy hero. Andrew Billen reports
On pain of
legal redress I am not at liberty to tell you where my quest to discover the
true identity of Captain Poldark first took me. Suffice it to say that last
summer I was to be found in a big house in the West Country whose owners are
fearful of being trampled down by Poldarkfanatics once the BBC’s new
adaptation of the Cornish romance gallops across the nation’s screens. A ball
was being filmed, and Poldark, played by the heart-throb Irish actor Aidan
Turner, was looking down from a balcony, all moody and drunk and ready to leave
and “acquaint myself with as much brandy as George can supply”.
Forty years
ago, the original BBC adaptation of Winston Graham’s novels was so popular that
introductions to its hero would have been superfluous. The critic Clive James
may have jested that the Sunday night potboiler was an anagram of Old Krap, but
15 million viewers were not laughing; between 1975 and ’77, they were
enthralled. As for Robin Ellis’s Captain Poldark, “Captain ROSS Poldark”, as
the actor tended to announce himself boomily upon entering a room, was the
sexiest thing in period breeches.
Poldark was a
young Cornish soldier who had returned from the American war of independence to
find his father dead and his inheritance — a tin mine — facing ruin. Worse, his
first love, Elizabeth, was engaged to his wussy cousin. As we would say these
days, Poldark had a lot of re-invention to do.
“Ross is such
a fascinating combination I think, of a whole host of literary and movie
heroes,” says Debbie Horsfield, the new version’s adapter, sitting for shade
under a canopy outside the house. “I think of him as being part Rochester, part
Heathcliff, part Robin Hood, part Darcy, part Rhett Butler. He’s got elements
of all of those great literary and movie-hero rebels.”
Poldark soon
finds himself in an irregular love triangle, still infatuated with Elizabeth
whose relative wealth and class he increasingly despises, yet living with and
marrying a miner’s daughter he has taken in as a maid. In the book Demelza is
13 when he rescues her from the streets and four years pass before he realises
she has grown up in the most delightful way. In this production, she is played
by Eleanor Tomlinson who is a respectable 22. Choosing her for his wife is an
aspect of Poldark’s non-conformism, says Horsfield. “The sex is amazing,” she
speculates, although, disappointingly, there will be little raunch on screen.
“I think
there’s a delicacy about the way Ross and Demelza fall in love. Demelza’s in
love with him before she gets married at the end of episode three. Episode four
is really about how Ross falls in love with his own wife. It’s a wonderful
progression because it dawns on him gradually that this woman, actually, is
amazing: spirited, sparky, optimistic. There are no airs and graces about her.”
To play this
uxorious romantic hero Horsfield and her producer at Mammoth Screen, Damien
Timmer, chose Aidan Turner, Rossetti in Desperate Romantics, the vampire
in Being Human and one of the 12 dwarfs in The Hobbit saga.
Turner, it should be said, is considered by many women to be the zenith of sex
appeal. The 31-year-old Irish actor, whose ink black hair and chocolate eyes
show off his extraordinarily white teeth, nevertheless turns out to be, when we
remove ourselves to a glade to talk, charmingly modest.
The Times 28 Feb 2015 |
When I ask
why a movie star is slumming it on Sunday night telly, he first disputes he is
anything of the sort and then says he fell in love with the script and the
novels. On the best of terms with his leading ladies as well as Seamus, his Co
Wexford horse — whom he would like to buy but isn’t for sale — he is happy with
the thought of getting six years’ work out of this (there are 12 novels in
all).
“I think Ross
embodies all the qualities of characters that I’d really like to play right
now. He’s got it all for me. He has very anti-establishment tendencies, a
rebellious attitude towards a lot of things and situations and people. He is a
bit of an outsider but he is also a staid kind of character, somebody who is
quite emotionally inarticulate. He’s happier on a battlefield, commanding
soldiers and shouting orders than telling his beloved how he actually feels
about her.”
The times 28 Feb 2015 |
My mistake on
this adventure of mine to Poldark country is to make fun of the original TV
series. First, everyone points out this version is not a remake but a fresh
“adaptation”. Second, Robin Ellis — the man who for women of a certain age will
always be Poldark — has a cameo in the new production and is popular. I
discover him back at the film unit’s base in the car park of a local school. He
is sitting in the sun with his wife, Meredith, who met him when interviewing
him about Poldark for American television. He is 73, white-haired but
still handsome and lives in rural France where he writes diabetic cook books.
He emerged from acting retirement to play a judge in the show.
Its cast and
producers are mindful of the bad press the BBC’s last Cornish drama, Jamaica
Inn, attracted for its inaudible dialogue. This, I say to Ellis, was not a
problem for Captain ROSS Poldark.
“Well, I think
probably I was too much, but that was the style of the time,” he replies. “I
saw a scene so long ago and I’m more or less shouting. If only the director had
just popped out of the box and said, ‘Just take it down a bit.’ But I’d worked
for three years in the Actors Company and so I was projecting a bit.”
When Ellis
was cast he had already made some 50 television dramas and had enjoyed a
successful career in theatre. Between the two Poldark series he acted
with the RSC. Nothing, however, made as much impact as Poldark. He had, as
he puts it, “quite a lot of fan mail” from women — or as Meredith puts it, when
they met in the mid-Eighties, he was still getting knickers in the post.
“But I didn’t
segue into a film career. In fact, that never really happened, although I kept
working.”
The Times 28 Feb 2015 |
Did he want
it to? “I suppose I did but maybe I didn’t want it enough.”
That Ellis
did not become the next James Bond — although he met the producers (“Wore a
suit for one of the few times in my life but I don’t think I impressed them
enough”) — is sometimes counted by the press as part of the “curse of Poldark”.
This figment of its imagination was summarised last year in a Daily Mail headline:
“Stars of the new version beware. The originals were hit by tragedy and never
found fame again.” The death toll in fact is not so very heavy, although Warren
Clarke, cast as Ross’s uncle in the revival, sadly added to it in November.
Certainly
Ellis sees nothing cursed about his time on the show. Every two weeks the cast
escaped the BBC studios where the interiors were taped and tore down to
Cornwall, where they found “watering holes” of the pre-Rick Stein era. “We were
up till four in the morning sometimes, really terrible.”
Did he suffer
pangs when he heard it was coming back with another actor playing him? “It was
all a pangless experience. It’s a long time ago and I have benefited hugely
from it. The Poldarkperks have been huge, including Meredith!”
Ellis is
lovely company but for a psychological portrait of the soldier-turned-mine
owner I travel some months later to north Oxford and the home of the former
master of Balliol. Andrew Graham, a political economist who once worked for
Harold Wilson, is Winston Graham’s son. He tells me how his father, who died
aged 95 a dozen years ago, fell out badly with the BBC exactly over the issue
of Poldark’s character.
For Graham,
indeed, the first series was “a disaster zone”, although relations were
repaired for the second when the author became more involved in the production.
(Mammoth is required to “consult meaningfully” with Andrew who is the literary
executor.) The problem, it seems, was that the BBC, as it were, made Demelza
pregnant and that made it look as if Ross had married her out of honour and
conformism.
“In the book
he sleeps with Demelza and then the next thing they’re getting married. I think
my father thought that this was all part of Ross not caring what people thought
about him. In the books people were chattering behind their hands: ‘Oh, isn’t
Ross Poldark dreadful? Pulling this young thing away from her father and then
exploiting her and sleeping with her?’ Ross just thought, ‘I know, I’ll show
them: I’ll marry her.’ ”
Andrew Graham
believes Ross represents a lot of what most men would like to be: a
swashbuckler, quick, sharp and rarely lost for the telling riposte. Ross is
not, however, his father, who never had any job but the sedentary one of
writing. Born in Manchester, Winston Graham moved to Perranporth in Cornwall
when his father retired there after being disabled by a stroke. His wife, Jean,
helped the family finances by running a bed and breakfast during the war. He
was good company but adept at concealing himself behind anecdotes (his
autobiography was entitled Memoirs of a Private Man) and although when the
war began he volunteered for the navy, he failed his medical. The nearest he
came to action was coastguard duty. Over its long nights, looking out to sea,
tuning into the dialect of his fellow volunteers, the Poldark saga began to
form in his imagination.
“I said, in
the address I gave at my father’s funeral, my father wasn’t at all a
swashbuckling man, but I think he would quite like to have been. I think Ross
is the alter-ego of my father’s imagination, at least in part.”
Poldark had
two real-life antecedents according to Graham’s memoirs. He had observed a
soldier on a train during the war — “tall, lean, bony, scarred” and bearing “a
vein of high-strung disquiet”. His character was also partly based on one of
his best friends, a chemist called Ridley Polgreen who died “grievously early”
aged 32.
Yet there is
one character in the books Andrew Graham does recognise: Demelza. In his
memoirs, Graham admitted he took her “sturdy common sense”, “courage” and
“gamine sense of humour” from his own wife.
A big chunk
of her is my mother,” Andrew agrees. “My father was quite private in contrast
to my mother. She was naturally engaging and outgoing, an endlessly encouraging
and optimistic presence. She had an acute eye for detail and an ear for an
amusing story. She could hardly go into the village without returning with
something new to relate. She had tremendous warmth: a huge zest for life, very
much like Demelza.”
Andrew adds
sternly, however, that his father insisted that for a novelist it was not
enough to describe, nor even to empathise with his characters: “A good novelist
has to beget.”
For a new
generation, the begetting of Captain Ross Poldark is about to start all over
again.
Poldark begins on BBC One on March 8
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