The turn of the screw

A bachelor, uncle, and guardian, who is reluctantly responsible for two, recently-orphaned children, hires a young, naive girl, as governess. In the remote country manor of Bly, she, with the help pf a housekeeper, is to care for the little Flora and the older Miles whilst in no way disturbing the guardian with any of the details. The angelic beauty and charm of the children awakens exaggerated, almost missionary zeal in the sensitive and rather highly-strung governess. Two mysterious apparitions –a male form on the tower of the manor and a female form on the lake- she very soon identifies as those of the servant Peter Quint and her own predecessor, Miss Jessel, both of whom died at Bly. Quint and Jessel have had a corrupting influence on the children and the governess assumes that they also see the ghostly appearances but keep it a secret. Thus she keeps a close watch over the children. The little girl finally suffers from a nervous fever which requires medical treatment in London. The boy, staying alone at home with the governess, is forced by her to confront Quint’s ghost. When, certain of her victory over Quint’s spirit, she embraces the boy, she realizes that he is dead. Now for some details: we made the sound recordings in England, with Colin Davis conducting and Helen Donath and Robert Tear in the leading roles. The filming was done using the playback method, with all the roles in the opera played by actors. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on our reasons for choosing the playback system: our aim was to combine optimal sound quality with maximum freedom in shooting the film. As for deciding to use actors rather than singers, our reasons were more complex. For one –it’s quite hared enough to gather together a first-class ensemble of singers for a straight sound recording lasting several days. It would be a delusion even to consider asking such people to fit six consecutives weeks of filming into their crowded schedules. In any case, we were anxious to achieve a high standard of acting ability and appearance. We were aware, of course, that for several years now there have been singers who can act well and that not every opera singer is built on a massive scale and used to being pushed around the stage by the director in accordance with rules that are centuries old and still incomprehensible, with an occasional excursion towards the footlights. We also know that a clown like Jerry Lewis has less reason these days to envy the contorted grimaces of his colleagues on the opera stage. But, in my opinion, there are important differences between acting in films and on the stage. In the opera house, the singer is required to project his emotions with the aid of concentrated, even artificial gestures and facial expressions –in such a way that people in the very back rows or on the highest gallery can recognize what form of passion or reaction is involved. This style of acting inevitably looks absurd and out-of-place on the television screen. On TV and i films, a far more restrained and intimate approach is required, especially for something as psychologically and dramatically demanding as the story by Henry James on which Britten’s opera is based. The director who can turn opera singers into film actors in a relatively short rehearsal period has yet to be born and would need the qualities of an exorcist.