by Marge Tolchin
For those of us who commute from somewhere else to Rehoboth on a weekly basis, making the trip itself is almost a way of life. My trusty auto (the operative word here is trusty) is equipped with items that I consider to be absolutely necessary: a cup holder for a bottle of soda (since the built-in one only holds cans and coffee cups), tissues (to wipe up inevitable spills), a clothes pin (to close the half-eaten bag of chips), my prepaid, discount ticket book for the bridge toll (no need to fumble for change), pre-set radio stations for both sides of the bay and tapes (no CD player yet). After all these years, I now know the best places to stop for pretty good gas prices, fairly decent coffee and reasonably clean bathrooms.
But, the truth be told, after skidillions of round trips, the quaint farmhouses all look the same, the curves in the road no longer require avid, fixed attention for safe negotiation, I swear I know the traffic patterns better than the local police, and I can easily psych out the location of every speed trap without benefit of a fuzzbuster. In short, its boring.
Then, a friend at work lent me his copy of a book on tape and for eight happy hours, I was not only entertained, I was given the opportunity to discover a remarkable author and a vanguard of our community. There was also a movie to rent.
E.M. Forsters autobiographical Maurice was written in 1914, but it wasnt published until 1971, following Forsters death.
In pre-World War 1 Britain, Maurice meets Clive at Cambridge, where the two students become good friends and eventually fall in love. When the intellectual Clive expresses his love for the rather conventional Maurice, the struggle between idealistic romance and immediate sexual passion begins. Clives notion of love is platonic and he thinks that physical expression of this love will "lower" them. Maurice is a spontaneous fool who climbs into Clives window, kisses him passionately and tells Clive, "I love you." Clive fears exposure and eventually breaks off the relationship in order to marry and to assume his family responsibilities. The brokenhearted Maurice seeks a cure for his "tendency" from his family doctor and then from a hypnotist. But, despite these efforts, Maurice eventually falls for Scudder, the gamekeeper on Clives estate. In a love conquers-all-moment, they decide to risk all and live together as lovers. These brave souls not only defy the sexual mores and conventions of their times but also the social barriers of class and social status.
This film presents us with a wildly romantic story told against the background of Englands gentry. The sets are lavish and filled with period details; each scene is beautiful to look at. The sex scenes are tastefully implied with camera cuts to the ceiling; its not an original technique but it works. James Wilbys Maurice also works for me, conveying just the right amount of confusion. Hugh Grants Clive is well played as he "matures" into an unpleasant, unlikeable prig. The prim and preposterous family members of both these young men are terminally respectable. But the best role goes to Ben Kingsley as the wacko but understanding hypnotist who advises Maurice to strengthen his masculinity by carrying a gun and by getting more fresh air and exercise. He also recommends a permanent move to France or Italy: "Englands always been disinclined to accept human nature."
Maybe its in my nature to need jolts and reminders about whats really important in this life, since I found the bravery of our two heroes just such an occasion: its worth taking a risk for love. For that reason, I guess Ill keep making the trip.
Marge Tolchin is a film critic "wannabe" who frequents movie houses in both Washington, D.C. and Rehoboth Beach in search of positive gay and lesbian images.
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10/17/97 Issue. Copyright 1997 by CAMP Rehoboth, Inc. All rights reserved.