Press Archive

The West Australian
Thursday, 4 September 2003
by Michael Idato

Falling in love with the Forsytes – again

The Forsytes have returned, and a new generation is drawn into the bitter family feud. Michael Idato visited the set of the popular British costume drama.

Michael Holroyd, the distinguished British biographer once argued that bad novels make good television, citing the BBC’s lavish and provocative 1967 adaptation of Jon Galsworthy’s The Forsyte Saga as evidence. Holroyd’s observations had a profound impact on university student Sita Williams, who would go on to produce last year’s equally lavish and provocative adapation of Galsworthy’s first two Forsyte novels.

Williams thought Holroyd was probably right. “Many years later, when I was working as a producer and a new Forsyte Saga was suggested, I recoiled at the thought. But I decided the only way to answer the question was to read the books again,” she says.

She and screenwriter Stephen Mallatratt revisited Galsworthy’s books, the literary soap opera spanning three generations of a minied, middle-class English family at the turn of the 20th century, and came to the conclusion that Holroyd was, in fact, wrong.

Williams is quick to praise the “social radicalism” of Galsworthy’s work.

“And,” she adds after a beat, “it’s a bloody good story about families, feuding, sex and adultery. It has all the right ingredients.”

The first instalment of The Forsyte Saga, produced by Granada last year and starring Damian Lewis, Gina McKee, Ioan Gruffudd, Corin Redgrave and Rupert Graves, was an unqualified hit. Not, perhaps, because of Galsworthy’s literary talent; rather for his profound understanding of the power of love.

Soames loved Irene, Irene loved Bosinney (and later Jolyon), Jolyon’s daughter June loved Bosinney, Jolyon loved Helene and ultimately Irene. With that much love in the air, who couldn’t fall in love with the Forsytes?

Galsworthy’s first two novels formed the basis for last year’s television adaptation. The third novel provides the storylines for the second series, which began on the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Commission) on Sunday. Soames’ daughter Fleur and Irene’s son Jon meet and fall in love, a passion that is the catalyst for more confrontation between the implacably opposed former husband and wife.

“ This is about how you are caught by the past and how the sins of your fathers and your mothers are visited on your children,” Williams says. “ It’s about trying to leave the past behind and not burdening your children with your sins and your prejudices.”

In the face of such melodramatic adversity, can true love prevail? More seriously, is this high drama or soap opera? Or both?

“I don’t mind it being called soap,” Williams laughs. “ Some of the best writing comes out of Coronation Street and EastEnders. Soap is good drama and that’s fine by me.” What it does tap, she says, is our contemporary obsession with the material aspects of life. “ In a way, it seems almost more relevant to us… because it deals with property and how money and property are so important in one’s world view,” Williams says.

“You can’t go anywhere without people discussing the price of property. Soames is the exemplary character who is interested in money, believes in property and ownership and believes that even your wife is your property, so it seemed a very relevant novel to look at again.”

Which brings us back to Soames Forsyte, the man at the heart of it all, and Damian Lewis, the man at the heart of Soames. On paper, he is a despicable figure. As played in 1967, he was a simply painted villain, but here he is a far more complex character.

Lewis says there was deliberate ambiguity in the scripts as far as Soames’ villainy and Irene’s saintliness were concerned. “ We discussed it at length and decided we didn’t want steriotypical villain and victim; that it was more interesting that even though people may not like Soames, they might understand him at least, and may even feel sorry for him or pity him. I think that’s proved true. That ambiguity is one of the great successes of the series.”

The older Soames- with the obligatory cosmetic wrinkling and a dash of grey at the temple- has been changed significantly by the arrival of his daughter Fleur, on whom he dotes.

“She has him wrapped around her little finger and you suspect he enjoys that. Then, of course, it is all thrown into confusion when she falls in love with Jon, Irene’s son. Soames’ bigotry , prejudice, self-obsession, pendantry and fastidiousness come to the surface again,” Lewis says.

“He has mellowed in that he is older, but they still remain his old failings. His self-interest then overwhelms his love for Fleur. The old enmity and bitterness between Soames and Irene is still such that they can’t countenance their two children being together and bearing grandchildren.”

While the love between Fleur and Jon drives the second series, the complex relationship between Soames and Irene remains the story’s emotional core. Indeed, the gripping final scenes see a resolution.

Lewis explains: “It is very Forsytian,” he laughs. “Very subtly done, but very powerful.”

Thanks to ‘dog_tied.’