Peter Grimes: The Incredible 1969 Film

It has . . . embarrassingly . . .been just shy of ten years since I watched the 1969 film of "Peter Grimes," but with all of this list discussion on the opera, I remedied that error this afternoon. Just as the last time, as it began I recalled Natalie Dessay’s introduction to the Met’s HD cinecast as with wide, wild eyes she lugubriously invited us in to experience “the sad, horrible story of Peter Grimes.”

I have always been intrigued by the physical production of this “Grimes” filmed for the BBC not in a London studio, but rather in a converted barn at Britten’s home in Snape Maltings. David Myerscough-Jones’ brilliant, realistic sets were built in London, then trucked in and assembled onto a makeshift soundstage in the barn. The tight fitting of its overly cramped stage works perfectly in creating the claustrophobic world of the burrough. The planks, catwalks and breakwater with its jagged wooden pilings . . . the sea roaring and crashing on a rear projection screen . . . all of it work in concert in something of a theatrical miracle to create this all too believable stifling microcosm.

I too often forget what a truly amazing conductor Britten - something not every composer can claim, and his now 25 year old score it’s safe to say, no one knew - or possibly ever shall - know how better to put across this amazing music better than its creator. Every nuance, every secret thing is mined in this reading making the score into a living organism, propelled by its own volition, inexorably, to a conclusion that can be imagined in no other way. From its opening notes, Britten’s invisible hand guides us over the next several hours which fly by as if in dream time.

Peter Pears at 59 was not the same singer - neither physically nor vocally, that he was at 35 when he created the role, however, like his partner, having lived with this music inside of him for a quarter century, he brings to it something unique, infuses it with a similar animalistic wildness Vickers would later bring, yet also a vulneribility, a tenderness which was never part of Vickers' Grimes - or any other role he took on. It was sometimes said, Vickers' Grimes was like a bear fighting to get out of a trap, while Pears was like a kind, gay uncle (or worse, "auntie") pouring tea. Nothing could be further from the truth . . . or more offensive. Watch him and you'll see.

Heather Harper is Ellen Orford right down to her boot laces. Theatrically, Harper is tremendous, investing Ellen with an intriguing mix of young, idealistic widow, with an old soul while.  Still in her 30's she is visually striking while as soars through Ellen’s music with a limpid beauty as though it were Mozart or Puccini, and convinces that in matters operatic, Britten is their equal.

Bryon Drake offers a stolid Balstrode with the right amount of gruffness and sensitivity, loyal to Peter, while fully aware of where this story must go.

Amidst all this bleakery, it was great fun to discover a voluptuous Elizabeth Bainbridge strutting her stuff as a most intriguing Auntie, the one outsider who knows her way in. She is simply terrific.

Aside from the magnificence of the score, the acting in this film is about as good as it ever gets in opera, and this must be attributed not only to a fine, handpicked cast, but to the direction of Joan Cross - the original Ellen Orford. This outstanding level of acting extends to every role large or small as well as to every single member of the chorus - all who create a believable, terrified and blood thirsty mob, yet who are also capable of singing with a sweet earnestness in their church scene. Their hunting down of Grimes is here, perhaps the most chilling I can recall and Brian Large’s camera work - weaving through the tight configurations of the masses magnifies this to terrifying proportions.

The chemistry throughout the cast presents the best of all possible worlds from cinema and opera, offering 100 percent believability and a naturalness of movement.from old and young alike.

Despite having studied and knowing this opera fairly intimately, countless remain the number of moments (both visually and musically) that elicited gasps from me, or caused me to shrink into the back of my couch in terror . . . or just let the tears flow: Ellen’s reappearance after the storm, holding John, as the door to the tavern bursts open, or Peter’s striking Ellen (in what appears to be a punch in the face) to name but two.

It was wonderful, too, seeing Jill Gomez, Anne Pashley and Robert Tear in supporting roles early in their careers.

The opera's penultimate scene is as absorbing, as profoundly moving as anything that exists in the operatic canon. How Britten achieved this employing such economically musical means is nearly incomprehensible and yet works as if by magic, standing both as great music and great theatre. An a cappella mad scene, punctuated only by the offstage cries of “Grimes” and a few distant fog horns . . . well, there is, for me, no more hopeless nor bleaker picture in all of opera than this.

Just shy of 60, Pears still tears into this scene like a man possessed, pouring every last ounce of himself into it. His cries of “Come home! Come home!” terrifying . . . his utterance “Turn the skies back and begin again,” cutting straight to the heart. It is, I believe, impossible not to have one's heart broken by this man, as this character, in this moment. Ms. Harper's Ellen watches on, heartbroken as Balstrode gives Peter instruction on what happens next. Often her "No!" is shouted as though she could stop it, but Harper whispers it in a near gasp, an automatic reaction at the horror of it all.  

Mr. Cross stages the final moment with a true director's insight. After Peter disappears, Ellen stands near the pilings, watching the sea, as the villagers sing on. Then she moves down the pier until she disappears, and we are eerily left with the same people the first act began with . . . without Peter, without Ellen, without John. It is chilling.

If I have one criticism (and clearly I do), it is the costumes. While they are marvelous in detail of the period and each helps identify its character, they still look a bit too . . . new and clean, as if straight from the costume department without having made (most of them) appear to have ever truly been lived in. Nonetheless, once gotten used to this fact, it's no longer even a "thing" to be concerned about as everything else more than compensates.

This is filmed opera at its very best and if you are a fan of this amazing opera and have never seen this . . . well, you should fix that immediately. The entire film is available on youtube right here: