You could say that another form of childabuse has been meted out to young Estella in Great Expectations. She has, after all, been systematically poisoned by Miss Havisham’s insane bitterness, her heart replaced by “ice”, her whole raison d’être to exact revenge on men for her guardian’s humiliation at the altar. Miss Havisham remains the novel’s most compelling character and in this latest big-screen adaptation she and Helena Bonham Carter fit hand in glove. Like Gillian Anderson in the recent BBC series, she is probably a little too young, but the off-kilter mannerisms, the Tim Burton pedigree and the brittle, bone-china beauty combine to make her spooky and vulnerable. I remember as a kid seeing David Lean’s much-praised version and being fascinated by the idea of what the famous fire did to her; here, we get the burnt after-effects. It’s a horrifying little moment but moving too.
As with the TV series, Pip is played by a ridiculously handsome yet rather vacant young actor, Jeremy Irvine from War Horse. He has a refinement of features and a poise which, as with Oliver Twist, somehow mark him out as being something other than the orphaned assistant to a humble blacksmith—nature trumping nurture in the eyes of film-makers if not of Dickens himself. But it doesn’t really matter that he’s a blank sheet, given the story’s themes of class mutation, social aspiration and the manipulation of personal fate. He and Estella—played here by the luscious (if improbably named) Holliday Grainger—are like beautiful and benign versions of Frankenstein and his bride, the creation of others, not what they at first seem.
A huge amount happens in Great Expectations, and director Mike Newell has done his best to cram as much of it into two hours as possible. The chaos of 19th-century London is beautifully if fleetingly realised, and unlike so many literary adaptations there is real blood running through the veins of the story. Ralph Fiennes as Magwitch adds further to his growing reputation as Britain’s leading screen character actor, and Robbie Coltrane makes a benevolent Jaggers, the lawyer. Only in some of the smaller roles is there the kind of cartoonishness which can be such a temptation in Dickens: the heart sinks when the ubiquitous David Walliams slopes on as Uncle Pumblechook, and Sally Hawkins as Mrs Joe is plain embarrassing. But these are small faults: this is a hugely entertaining, thoughtful film.
