"THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL" (1982) Review
I suspect that many fans of the DC Comics character "Batman" and the "Zorro" character would be nonplussed at the idea that a novel written by a Hungary-born aristocrat had served as an inspiration for their creations. Yet, many believe that Baroness Emmuska Orczy de Orczi's 1905 novel, "The Scarlet Pimpernel" provided Western literature with its first "hero with a secret identity", Sir Percy Blakeney aka the Scarlet Pimpernel.
There have been at least nineteen stage, movie or television adaptations of Orczy's novel. Some consider the 1934 movie adaptation with Leslie Howard, Merle Oberon and Raymond Massey as the most definitive adaptation. However, there are others who are more inclined to bestow that honor on the 1982 television adaptation with Anthony Andrews, Jane Seymour and Ian McKellen. I have seen both versions and if I must be honest, I am inclined to agree with those who prefer the 1982 television movie.
"THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL" - namely its 1982 re-incarnation - is based upon the 1905 novel and its 1913 sequel, "Eldorado". Set during the early period of the French Revolution, a masked man and his band of followers rescues French aristocrats from becoming victims of the Reign of Terror under France's new leader, Maximilien de Robespierre. The man behind the Scarlet Pimpernel's mask - or disguises - is a foppish English baronet named Sir Percy Blakeney. For reasons never explained in the movie, Sir Percy has managed to gather a group of upper-class friends to assist him in smuggling French aristocrats out of France and sending them to the safety of England. During a visit to France, Sir Percy meets a young French government aide and the latter's actress sister, Armand and Marguerite St. Just. He eventually befriends the brother and courts the sister.
Sir Percy also becomes aware of Armand's superior and Marguerite's friend, Robespierre's agent Paul Chauvelin. Angered over Marguerite's marriage to Sir Percy, Chauvelin has the Marquis de St. Cyr - an old enemy of Armand's - executed in her name. After being sent to England to learn the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel, Chauvelin discovers that Armand has become part of the vigilante's band. He blackmails Marguerite - now Lady Blakeney - into learning the identity the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel. Meanwhile, the Blakeney marriage has chilled, due to the news of the Marquis de St. Cyr's execution and Marguerite's alleged connection. But a chance for a marital reconciliation materializes for Marguerite, when she discovers the Scarlet Pimpernel's true identity.
Thirty years have passed since CBS first aired "THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL". In many ways, it has not lost its bite. Thanks to Tony Curtis' production designs, late 18th century England and France (England and Wales in reality) glowed with elegance and style. Not even the questionable transfer of the film to DVD could completely erode the movie's beauty. The movie's visual style was aided by Carolyn Scott's set decorations, Dennis C. Lewiston's sharp and colorful photography, and especially Phyllis Dalton's gorgeous costume designs, as shown in the following photographs:
I feel that screenwriter William Bast made the very wise choice of adapting Baroness Orczy's two novels about the Scarlet Pimpernel. In doing so, he managed to create a very clear and concise tale filled with plenty of drama and action. He also did an excellent job in mapping out the development of the story's main characters - especially Sir Percy Blakeney, Marguerite St. Just, Paul Chauvelin and Armand St. Just. I was especially impressed by his handling of Sir Percy and Marguerite's relationship - before and after marriage. Sir Percy's easy willingness to believe the worst about his bride provided a few chinks into Sir Percy's character, which could have easily morphed into a too perfect personality. More importantly, Bast's script gave Paul Chauvelin's character more depth by revealing the latter's feelings for Marguerite and jealousy over her marriage to Sir Percy. Bast's re-creation of the early years of the French Revolution and Reign of Terror struck me as well done. However, I wish he had not faithfully adapted Orczy's decision to allow the Scarlet Pimpernel and his men to rescue the Daupin of France (heir apparent to the French throne), Louis-Charles (who became Louis XVII, upon his father's death). In reality, Louis-Charles died in prison from tuberculosis and ill treatment at the age of ten. Surely, Bast could have created someone else important for the Scarlet Pimpernel to rescue.
"THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL" received a few Emmy nominations. But they were for technical awards - Costume Designs for Phyllis Dalton, Art Direction for Tony Curtis and even one for Outstanding Drama Special for producers David Conroy and Mark Shelmerdine. And yet . . . there were no nominations for Clive Donner and his lively direction, and no nominations for the cast. I am especially astounded by the lack of nominations for Anthony Andrews, Jane Seymour and Ian McKellen. In fact, I find this criminal. All three gave superb performances as Sir Percy Blakeney; Marguerite, Lady Blakeney; and Paul Chauvelin respectively. Andrews was all over the map in his portrayal of the fop by day/hero by night Sir Percy. And yet, it was a very controlled and disciplined performance. Jane Seymour did a beautiful job of re-creating the intelligent, yet emotional Marguerite. At times, she seemed to be the heart and soul of the story. This was the first production in which I became aware of Ian McKellen as an actor and after his performance as Paul Chauvelin, I never forgot him. Not only was his portrayal of Chauvelin's villainy subtle, but also filled with deep pathos over his feelings for Marguerite Blakeney. He also had the luck to utter one of my favorite lines in the movie in the face of his character's defeat:
"Oh, the English, and their STU-U-U-UPID sense of fair play!"
The movie also featured some first-rate performances by the supporting cast. Malcolm Jamieson did an excellent job in portraying Marguerite's older brother, Armand. I was also impressed by Ann Firbank, who was first-rate as the embittered Countess de Tournay; James Villiers as the opportunistic Baron de Batz; Tracey Childs as the lovesick Suzanne de Tournay; and Christopher Villiers as Sir Percy's most stalwart assistant, Lord Anthony Dewhurst. Julian Fellowes made a very colorful and entertaining Prince of Wales. And Richard Morant proved to be even more subtle and sinister than McKellen's Chauvelin as Maximilien de Robespierre.
After my latest viewing of "THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL", I found myself surprisingly less supportive of the Scarlet Pimpernel's efforts than I used to be. Perhaps I have not only become more older, but even less enthusiastic about the aristocratic elite. It was then I realized that despite the presence of Marguerite and Armand St. Just, "THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL" is based on two novels written by an aristocrat, with views that were probably as liberal as Barry Goldwater. Oh well. I still managed to garner a good deal of entertainment from a movie that has held up remarkable well after thirty years, thanks to some lively direction by Clive Donner, a first-rate script by William Bast and superb performances by the likes of Anthony Andrews, Jane Seymour and Ian McKellen.
"ROSS POLDARK AND NOBLESSE OBLIGE""You are mistaken if you think greed and exploitation are the marks of a gentleman." - Ross Poldark to George Warleggan, "P0LDARK" (2015) When I first heard Ross Poldark speak those words to his nemesis, George Warleggan in Episode Eight of the current "POLDARK" series, I found myself wondering if Ross might be full of shit. Or perhaps he was either illusional . . . or a class bigot. Regardless, I could not help but roll my eyes at his remark.I realize that some might wonder how I could accuse Ross Poldark . . . Ross Poldark of class bigotry. This man has been a champion of the working-class in his little part of Cornwall. He has managed to befriend his workers. He has spoken out on behalf of them and other members of their class. And he has been willing to make any effort to come to their aid - especially those who work on his land, even if he sometimes come off as patronizing. He has certainly expressed anger when he believed any of them has needlessly suffered, due to the actions of the upper-class or other wealthy types. Ross had spent days in a state of drunken anger after one of his former employees, Jim Carter had died after spending over a year in prison for poaching. He had also married his kitchen-maid, Demelza Carne, despite the tongue-wagging of his elite neighbors and family members.Also, one cannot deny that the Warleggans deserved Ross' scorn. George Warleggan's grandfather had been a blacksmith who eventually became a moderately wealthy man. His sons - George's father and uncle Cary - acquired even more wealth, leading the family to become their parish's wealthiest bankers. George was the first in his family to be and his family were a money hungry bunch that resort to grasping ways - legal or illegal - to not only acquire money, but also rise up the social ladder in order to become part of Cornwall's upper-class. They are pretty much an ambitious and venal bunch who do not seemed to give a rat's ass about the suffering of the lower classes. They also seemed willing to inflict suffering upon them for the sake of greater profits and social respectability. And yet . . . the interesting thing about the Warleggans is that they had managed to acquire great wealth on their own - meaning without the help of some aristocrat or member of the landed gentry.So, why did I have a problem with Ross' words? Were viewers really expected to believe that only noveau riche types like the Warleggans were capable of greed and exploitation? History tells us that the landed gentry and the aristocracy were just as guilty of greed and exploiting not only their workers, but their land, despite occasional moments of taking care of those beneath them when times were tough. And yet, I get the feeling that those moments of compassion stemmed from the idea of "noblesse oblige" - people of noble birth being duty bound to take responsibility for the well being of those under their patronage or employment. However, "noblesse oblige" had not prevented aristocrats and members of the landed gentry from engaging in years of exploiting their land, their tenants and their employees; living greedily from their profits, and doing a poor job of managing their money led to a decrease in their wealth. This was the case for Polarks, the Chynoweths and other upper class families - fictional or not - who found themselves cash poor by the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. British landowners had been enclosing their lands - forcing tenant farmers to become agricultural laborers - since the late seventeeth century, at least a century before George Warleggan had enclosed the Trenwith estate, following his marriage to Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark. And they continued to do so well into the nineteenth century.If Ross regarded himself, his uncle Charles Poldark, his cousin Francis Poldark and other members of the landed gentry like Sir Hugh Bodrugan, the Treneglos, Ray Penvenen and Unwin Trevaunance as "gentlemen", then his comments to George were spoken in error. Most, if not all, of these gentlemen were capable of greed and exploitation. Ross might occasionally criticize the behavior of his fellow members of the upper-class, just as he had did following the death of his former employee, Jim Carter. But he has never expressed antagonism toward them with the same level that he has toward the Warleggans. It is quite obvious that he regarded these men as "gentlemen". He seemed to have no problems with socializing or forming a business enterprise with them. And if this is the case, I cannot help but wonder about the true reason behind Ross' antipathy toward the Warleggans. Had Ross' antipathy originated with his exposure of the Warleggans' cousin, Matthew Sanson, as a card cheat? I rather doubt it. Ross and some of his other acquaintances had been making snide comments about the Warleggans' rise in wealth since the series began. No matter how many times George tried to befriend Ross throughout most of Series One, the latter would dismiss his effort with a sardonic or nasty comment. Yet, Ross seemed to have no problems with socializing with the likes of the snotty Ruth Teague Treneglos and her ineffectual husband; the money grasping blue-blooded politician Unwin Trevaunance, who sought heiress Caroline Penvenen's hand for her money; or the self-absorbed Sir Hugh Bodrugan, who seemed to have no concern for anyone or anything, aside from his own pleasures - including Demelza Poldark, whom he pursued like some aged satyr. Even Ross is not the epitome of "gentlemanly" sainthood. He seemed so hellbent upon finding a wealthy source of copper or even tin from his mine, Wheal Grace that he failed to consider that he lacked the funds to ensure a safe environment for his workers. This determination to strike a lode without any safety measures led to an accident and the deaths of a few men. And his aggressive, yet adulterous actions against his widowed cousin-in-law (I might as well be frank - his rape of Elzabeth) in the eighth episode of Series Two made it perfectly clear that "gentleman" or not, Ross can be repulsive. And yet, despite all of this, Ross seemed to regard the Warleggans as an unworthy lot. I am not saying that George and his uncle are a nice bunch. They can be just as repulsive and greedy as their upper-class neighbors. And on several occasions, the Warleggans have made derisive comments about Demelza, who happened to be a miner's daughter. All this tells me is that contrary to Ross' comment to George, the latter's family is no better or worse than the other upper-class characters in the "POLDARK" saga. They are quite capable of being snobs. But what about Ross? Is he a snob? He may be friendly toward his workers and willing to help them out, but his friendly and compassionate regard for them seemed to have a patronizing taint. In fact, his love toward his working-class wife Demelza seemed to have the same taint. Although his good friend, Dr. Dwight Enys, managed to rise from his working-class background to become a doctor, he did so with the help of upper-class patronage. And Ross provided his own patronage toward Dwight in helping the latter establish a medical practice in their part of Cornwall. Ross even helped Dwight in the latter's romance with the blue-blooded Caroline Penvenen. I cannot help but wonder if the Warleggans had the benefit of "noblesse oblige" - namely an upper-class mentor to guide them in their rise to great wealth, would Ross have been less hostile toward them? Perhaps it is one thing for Ross Poldark to help the lower classes have a better life - by offering them jobs or homes, providing patronage for someone with potential like Dwight Enys, or marrying his kitchen maid. It is another thing - at least for him - to tolerate people from the lower classes like the Warleggans to rise up in wealth through their own efforts and not via the benefit of the "noblesse oblige". And my gut instinct tells me that the Warleggans’ rise via their own grit, ambition and brains was something that Ross could not stomach.
"POLDARK" SERIES ONE (1975): EPISODES FIVE TO EIGHT
Last winter, I began watching the BBC's 1975-77 adaptation of Winston Graham's literary series about the life of a British Army officer and American Revolutionary War veteran, following his return to his home in Cornwall. The first four episodes proved to be adaptation of the first novel in Graham's series, 1945's "Ross Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall, 1783-1787". Episodes Five to Eight focused on the series' second novel, 1946's "Demelza: A Novel of Cornwall, 1788-1790".
Episode Four ended with Ross Poldark, a Cornish landowner and mine owner, discovering that his young kitchen maid, the 17 year-old Demelza Carne, is pregnant with his child. Abandoning his plan to reunite with his former fiancée, Elizabeth Chynoweth Poldark, who had married his cousin Francis Polark; Ross decides to marry Demelza and take responsibility for their unborn child. Episode Five opened up six to seven months later with the birth of their daughter, Julia Poldark. Ross and Demelza decide to hold two christenings - one for his upper-crust family and neighbors and one for her working-class family. Unfortunately, fate upsets their plans when Demelza's family crash the first christening. Episode Five also featured the introduction of new characters - a young doctor named Dwight Enys, who quickly befriends Ross; Keren Daniels, a young traveling actress who married a local miner named Mark Daniels; and George Warleggan, the scion of the Warleggan family, who became Ross' archenemy.
The four episodes that formed the adaptation of "Demelza: A Novel of Cornwall" pretty much focused on the first two years of Ross' marriage to Demelza. Their relationship seemed to thrive, despite the unromantic reasons why they got married in the first place. It was nice to see Ross and Demelza quickly settled into becoming an established couple. This was especially apparent in first christening for Ross and Demelza's newborn, Julia, attended by Ross' family and upper-class neighbors. However, this sequence also revealed that Ross and Demelza still had a long way to go, when Demelza's religious and fanatical father and stepmother crashed the first christening. I enjoyed the sequence very much, even if it ended on an irritating note - namely Demelza and Mr. Carne's shouting match that played merry hell on my ears. Although there were times when their relationship threatened to seem a bit too ideal, I have no other problems with it.
From a narrative point of view, the only hitch in Ross and Demelza's relationship - so far - proved to be Demelza's determination to help her cousin-in-law Verity Poldark's renew the latter's disastrous relationship with a Captain Andrew Blamey . . . behind Ross' back. Following Blamey and Francis' disastrous encounter in the second (or third) episode, Ross made it clear that he had no intention of helping Verity and Blamey's romantic situation. Demelza, being young, romantic and naive; decided to intervene and help them continue their courtship. Her efforts were almost sidetracked when Francis and Elizabeth's son, Geoffrey Charles, was stricken with Putrid Throat. Ross' new friend, Dr. Enys, had recruited Verity to nurse Geoffrey Charles, believing that Elizabeth was incapable of serving as her son's nurse. I must be honest . . . I found this plot line a bit contrived. One, it seemed like a theatrical way to inject tension into Verity's romance with Captain Blamey and their plans to elope. And two, Elizabeth has never struck me as the type of woman incapable of nursing her own son, let alone anyone else. Nevertheless, Demelza's efforts proved to be successful in the end when Verity and Captain Blamey finally eloped in Episode Seven.
Verity and Captain Blamey's elopement also produced an ugly reaction from her brother Francis, who had been against their relationship from the beginning. That ugly reaction formed into an emotional rant against his sister that not only spoiled his wife Elizabeth and son Geoffrey Charles' Christmas meal, but concluded with him succumbing to Putrid Throat. I will say this about Francis Poldark . . . his presence in Episodes Five to Eight proved to be a lot stronger than it was in the first four episodes. Viewers learned in the conclusion of Episode Six that he had betrayed the shareholder names of Ross' new Carnmore Copper Company, an smelting organization formed to break the Warleggans' monopoly on the mining industry in that part of Cornwall.
I am a little confused by why so many claim that Clive Francis had portrayed the character as less of a loser than Kyle Soller did in 2015. For example, in an article posted on the Ellen and Jim Have a Blog, Two, the writer made this description of Francis in Episode Eight of the 1975 series - "I’ve come to realize that Francis is made considerably more appealing by Wheeler’s script: Graham’s Francis is witty, but his open self-berating and guilt are from Wheeler; also his generosity of spirit now and again.".
That was not the Francis Poldark I saw in Episode Eight. Come to think of it, that was NOT the Francis I saw between Episodes Three and Eight. Well . . . I do recall Francis engaging in self-pitying behavior. I also recall Francis being half-hearted in his attempt to reconcile with Elizabeth, his occasionally self-defensive attitude and anger at Verity for eloping. The only sign of wit I can recall was Francis' clumsy and slightly insulting reaction at the Warleggan ball to news of prostitute Margaret's recent wedding. And although I enjoyed Clive Francis' performance, there were moments when he was guilty of some really histrionic acting - especially in Episode Eight, when his character went into a rant against Verity's elopement during his family's Christmas dinner. Either these fans and critics had failed to notice how much of a loser Francis Poldark was in the 1975 series, they remembered the actor's performance in the episodes that followed Episode Eight, or they were blinded by nostalgia for the 1975 series. Clive Francis' portrayal of the character struck me as much of a loser as Soller's portrayal.
The renewal of Verity and Captain Blamey's romance was not the only relationship shrouded in secrecy. As I had earlier pointed a traveling actress named Keren had abandoned her tawdry profession life to remain in the area and marry local miner, Mark Daniels, after meeting him at the second christening for the newborn Julia Poldark. I admire how the production went out of its way to portray Keren's growing disenchantment with life as a miner's wife and her marriage to Mark. In doing so, screenwriter Mark Wheeler allowed audiences to sympathize with Keren's emotions and understand what led her to pursue an extramarital affair with the neighborhood's new physician, the quiet and charming Dr. Dwight Enys. Although this sequence featured solid performances from Richard Morant and Martin Fisk as Dwight Enys and Mark Daniels; the one performance that really impressed me came from Sheila White, who portrayed the unfortunate Keren Daniels. However, I was not particular thrilled by how the affair ended. Mark Daniels deliberately murdered Keren, when he discovered the affair. What really riled me was that both Ross and Demelza went out of their way to help Mark evade justice. Their actions seemed to justify and approve of Mark's violent action against his wife. The entire scenario smacked of another example of misogyny in this saga.
Episode Six of "POLDARK" not only introduced the character of George Warleggan, it also featured one of my favorite segments in the series, so far - the Warleggan ball. I thought Wheeler and Paul Annett did a solid job in this particular sequence. It was not perfect, but it proved to be an elegant affair, capped by a tense situation when Ross engaged in a gambling showdown with the Warleggans' cousin Matthew Sanson, before exposing the latter as a cheat. One aspect of the ball sequence that really impressed me were the costumes and the music provided by Kenyon Emrys-Roberts, which helped maintained the sequence's atmosphere. I also enjoyed both Robin Ellis and Milton Johns' performances as Ross Poldark and Matthew Sanson in the card game sequence. Both actors did a very good job of injecting more tension in what was already a high-wired situation. By the way, both actors, along with Clive Francis, had appeared in the 1971 adaptation of "SENSE AND SENSIBILITY".
There were other moments and sequences that I enjoyed. Aside from the Warleggan ball, I was very impressed by two other scenes. One featured Demelza's attempt to play matchmaker for Verity and Captain Blamey in Truro. Well, the sequence began with Demelza playing matchmaker before all three became swept into a food riot that led to a violent brawl between some very hungry townsmen and local military troops trying to prevent the men from breaking into Matthew Sanson's grain storehouse. I found the entire scene rather well shot by director Paul Annett. I was also impressed by Annett's work in Episode Seven that featured Ross' attempt to help Mark Daniels evade arrest for Keren's murder. I may not approved of what happened, but I was impressed by Annett's direction. But I feel that the director did his best work in Episode Eight, which featured the wreck of the Warleggans' ship on Poldark land. It began on a high note when the Paynters and other locals began pillaging the ship's cargo for much needed food, clothing and other materials. But it really got interesting when a riot broke out between the Poldark workers, miners from a nearby estate and the local troops who tried to stop them. Again, Annett really did a first-rate job in making the sequence very exciting, despite the fact that it was shot in the dark.
I noticed that Paul Wheeler, who wrote the transcripts for these four episodes and Episode Eleven, made several changes from Graham's novel. To be honest, I can only recall one major change that did not bother me one whit. In Episode Seven, young Geoffrey Charles Poldark was stricken with Putrid's Throat before Verity had the chance to elope with Captain Blamey. Once Verity and Elizabeth helped the boy recover, she finally took the opportunity to elope. Yes, I am aware that Verity had eloped before the Putrid fever outbreak, but I see that Wheeler was trying to create a little tension for her situation. When Francis was struck with Putrid's Throat on Christmas, Demelza arrived at Trenwith to help Elizabeth nurse him. The two women engaged in a warm and honest conversation that showcased both Jill Townsend and Angharad Rees as talented actresses they were. However, this conversation never occurred in the novel. In fact, the literary Elizabeth Poldark also came down with Putrid's Throat. But this change did not bother me, due to the excellent scene between Townsend and Rees.
Unfortunately, I had problems with some of Wheeler's other changes. One change originated back in Episode Four with the "Demelza gets knocked up" storyline that led to hers and Ross' shotgun wedding. I had assumed that the Trenwith Christmas party sequence, which followed Ross and Demelza's wedding, would appear in Episode Five. After all, it was one of my favorite sequences from the 1945 novel. But the sequence never appeared - not in Episode Four or Episode Five. Instead, the latter opened with Julia Poldark's birth and the christening. And I felt very disappointed.
Another change involved Ross' former employee, Jim Carter. Back in Episode Three, Jim was tried and convicted for poaching on another landowner's estate. In Episode Six, Ross received word that Jim was severely ill inside Bodmin Jail. With Dwight Enys' help, the pair break the younger man out. But instead of dying during Dwight's attempt to amputate an infected limb, Jim survived . . . until Episode Seven. This change allowed Ross to indulge in a speech on the inequities suffered by the poor and working-class in British. Personally, I had difficulty feeling sympathetic, considering that he had fired Jud and Prudie Paynter, earlier in the episode. Mind you, Jud had deserved to be fired for his drunken behavior and insults to Demelza. But Prudie did not. She tried to stop Jud and ended up fired by Ross (who found her guilty by matrimony to the perpetrator). And I ended up regarding Ross as nothing more than a first-rate hypocrite.
Because Jim Cater had survived Episode Six, Ross did not attend the Warleggan ball angry and in a drunken state. Instead, he remained a perfect and sober gentleman throughout the sequence. Which was a pity . . . at least for me. Perhaps Wheeler had decided that Prudie's fate was sufficient enough to expose Ross' less pleasant side of his personality, I did not. The card game between Ross and Sanson provided some tension during the ball sequence, thanks to the skillful performances of Robin Ellis, Milton Johns and Ralph Bates. But it was not enough for me. I thought a good deal of the sequence's drama was deleted due to "our hero" not having an excuse to get drunk and surly. I suspect that Wheeler, along with producers Morris Barry and Anthony Coburn, wanted to - once again - maintain Ross' heroic image.
The Warleggan ball also featured another change. At the end of Episode Six, George Warleggan revealed to his father, Nicholas, that he knew the names of Ross' Carnmore Copper Company. The revelation left me feeling flabbergasted. In the novel, Francis had not exposed the shareholders' names to George until after Verity and Blamey's elopement. He had believed Ross was responsible for arranging it and betrayed the latter in retaliation. Since Francis had obviously betrayed Ross before Episode Six's final scene in the 1975 series, I found myself wondering why he had betrayed his cousin's company in the first place. Why did he do it? Someone had hinted that Francis felt jealous over Elizabeth's feelings for Ross. Yet, the relationship between those two had been particularly frosty since the revelation of Demelza's pregnancy back in Episode Four. If Francis had been experiencing jealousy, what happened before the end of Episode Six that led him to finally betray Ross and the Carnmore Copper Company shareholders? It could not have been for money. Although George Warleggan had paid back the money that his cousin had cheated from Francis and the other gamblers at the ball, he did not dismiss Francis' debt to the Warleggan Bank. If only Wheeler had followed Graham's novel and allowed Francis to betray Ross following Verity's elopement. This would have made more sense. Instead, the screenwriter never really made clear the reason behind the betrayal. Rather sloppy, if you ask me.
Overall, Episodes Five to Eight of "POLDARK" struck me as an interesting and very entertaining set of episodes. This is not surprising, considering that they were basically an adaptation of "Demelza - A Novel of Cornwall, 1788-1790". Director Paul Annett and Paul Wheeler did a very solid job in adapting Graham's novel. Yes, I had some quibbles with Wheeler's screenplay - especially his handling of the Francis Polark character. But overall, I believe the two men, along with the cast led by Robin Ellis and Angharad Rees did an first-rate job. On to Episode Nine and the adaptation of the next novel in Graham's series.
