It is quite interesting that the French title says "Return to Howard's End", as if this addition pointed out the inexorable path of life that would allow the central character Margaret Shlegel (Emma Thompson) to own the very house she was once deprived of.
Indeed, when Ruth Wilcox (Vanessa Redgrave) left in her deathbed "Howard's End" to her new friend Margaret, the Wilcoxes couldn't believe she had all her mind, so they burnt the paper. Yet, a series of separate episodes converged to the final inheritance, making up for the first injustice. The French title might mislead by making think the film focuses on Margaret, while it's about a whole ensemble powerfully representing British classes circa 1910.
And as the original title suggests, the focus is "Howard's End" not the estate, but the symbol of the aristocracy's rural roots. The film fittingly opens with Ruth Wilcox wondering alone in the park, with this kind of intimate connection we feel in the places we grew up in. And the sadness that inhabits her heart is palpable. She's obviously misunderstood; since no Wilcox understands "Howard's End", too busy socializing and partying during that very night.
At the same night, Helen Shlegel, Margaret's sister, (Helena Bonham Carter) falls in love with the younger Wilcox son, but it wouldn't outlast the night. The opening incident is amusing, but like every detail in the film, not insignificant, it informs us that the Shlegels are of a German background from their father, they are well-educated middle-class bourgeois highly fond on arts and intellectuals. A few months later, to make up for the whole misunderstanding caused by her sister, Margaret finally meets Ruth Wilcox, in the neighboring house in London and a brief but poignant friendship begins.
Ruth discovers Margaret's social life, but also a woman of ideas, of artistic taste, not blinded by wealth like the Wilcoxes, so she can see the value of "Howard's End" And Margaret falls immediately in love with the house during a visit where she also catches the eye of Mr Wilcox, Anthony Hopkins as the shy, well-mannered but quite abrupt businessman, again a polar opposite to Emma Thompson's temperament (but isn't that what makes their interactions so irresistible?)
When Ruth Wilcox dies with her final wish, Mr Wilcox feels like he owes a gesture to Margaret, some help to find a house. They end up marrying each other, in probably the most awkward proposal from any film. Their union celebrates the constant symbiosis between the old aristocracy and the new enlightened bourgeoisie, but the portrait of the British classes would have been incomplete without lower people. And this is where the Basts enrich the film.
Sam West is Leonard Bast, a young and educated clerk, leaving with Jackie, a vulgarian we suspect to have a troubled past. Bast strikes as a taciturn, sickly and insecure man, and after another incident involving a lost umbrella, the Shlegel sisters grow rapidly fond on him, especially the fiery Helen. But victim of their good intentions, the sisters ask Mr Wilcox for advice: he suggests Bast leaves his company before the bankruptcy. Not only Bast leaves his job, but the previous company prospers and the second fires him. Bast, who was poor, ends up in a worse situation.
Helen can't accept Wilcox' lack of remorse and brings the ill fated Bast and his wife to the Wilcox daughter's wedding party. And while indulging herself to some punch drinking, Jackie recognizes Mr Wilcox and his "gay old habits". The dynamics of the film is constantly driven by incidents; it's all about the serene and honorable standard of the British upper classes, perturbed by wake-up calls. This one illustrates the pervert interactions between the rich and the poor, the same Wilcox who didn't shed a tear for Bast, for "the poor are the poor, and one's sorry for them" didn't care of abusing an underage woman.
Margaret forgives Wilcox, but Helen can't forgive herself to have caused Bast' descent to poverty, she stays close to him. So close that we're not surprised, a few months later, to find her pregnant, for the ultimate plot device that highlighted the British system's greatest sin: hypocrisy. Helen is in the same position than Jackie was because of Wilcox, yet Wilcox forbids her to stay in Howard's End. The rich demonstrates an incredible zeal when the poor degrade British values, while their noble status launder all their faults. Wilcox, no matter how well mannered and intentioned he is, wouldn't allow Helen to stay.
And while his marriage comes to a dead-end, a failure to communicate, it's like Ruth's own spectra commanded the irresponsible Charles, the most foolish thing to do. Enthralled by his new ownership, Charles confronts Bast, and inadvertently kills him, leaving his father in a desperate need of Margaret, more than ever. The loop is looped, and "Howard's End" reveals itself to be more than a story of inheritance and property, it's a magnificent Oscar-winning screenplay made of sumptuously interlocking stories that paint an insightful and incisive portrait of the British classes, their interactions, and perceptions. And the ending translates into a fictional story, the very future of Britain, an aristocratic house left to a bourgeois, and who's going to benefit of it? The son of a poor man.
"Howard's End" is not just a riveting story, carried by superb performances -Emma Thompson totally deserved her Oscar as the sweet, caring but strong-willed Margaret- it's also the magnificent epitaph of an old order, in the same intensity and human resonance than "Gone With the Wind", like only the Ivory-Merchant could have produced.
Speaking of them, I'm glad I watched it after "The Remains of the Day", for the magnificent chemistry between Hopkins and Thompsons, probably the defining on-screen duo of the 90's (both nominated 4 times in this very decade) made up for their previous inhibitions.
Indeed, when Ruth Wilcox (Vanessa Redgrave) left in her deathbed "Howard's End" to her new friend Margaret, the Wilcoxes couldn't believe she had all her mind, so they burnt the paper. Yet, a series of separate episodes converged to the final inheritance, making up for the first injustice. The French title might mislead by making think the film focuses on Margaret, while it's about a whole ensemble powerfully representing British classes circa 1910.
And as the original title suggests, the focus is "Howard's End" not the estate, but the symbol of the aristocracy's rural roots. The film fittingly opens with Ruth Wilcox wondering alone in the park, with this kind of intimate connection we feel in the places we grew up in. And the sadness that inhabits her heart is palpable. She's obviously misunderstood; since no Wilcox understands "Howard's End", too busy socializing and partying during that very night.
At the same night, Helen Shlegel, Margaret's sister, (Helena Bonham Carter) falls in love with the younger Wilcox son, but it wouldn't outlast the night. The opening incident is amusing, but like every detail in the film, not insignificant, it informs us that the Shlegels are of a German background from their father, they are well-educated middle-class bourgeois highly fond on arts and intellectuals. A few months later, to make up for the whole misunderstanding caused by her sister, Margaret finally meets Ruth Wilcox, in the neighboring house in London and a brief but poignant friendship begins.
Ruth discovers Margaret's social life, but also a woman of ideas, of artistic taste, not blinded by wealth like the Wilcoxes, so she can see the value of "Howard's End" And Margaret falls immediately in love with the house during a visit where she also catches the eye of Mr Wilcox, Anthony Hopkins as the shy, well-mannered but quite abrupt businessman, again a polar opposite to Emma Thompson's temperament (but isn't that what makes their interactions so irresistible?)
When Ruth Wilcox dies with her final wish, Mr Wilcox feels like he owes a gesture to Margaret, some help to find a house. They end up marrying each other, in probably the most awkward proposal from any film. Their union celebrates the constant symbiosis between the old aristocracy and the new enlightened bourgeoisie, but the portrait of the British classes would have been incomplete without lower people. And this is where the Basts enrich the film.
Sam West is Leonard Bast, a young and educated clerk, leaving with Jackie, a vulgarian we suspect to have a troubled past. Bast strikes as a taciturn, sickly and insecure man, and after another incident involving a lost umbrella, the Shlegel sisters grow rapidly fond on him, especially the fiery Helen. But victim of their good intentions, the sisters ask Mr Wilcox for advice: he suggests Bast leaves his company before the bankruptcy. Not only Bast leaves his job, but the previous company prospers and the second fires him. Bast, who was poor, ends up in a worse situation.
Helen can't accept Wilcox' lack of remorse and brings the ill fated Bast and his wife to the Wilcox daughter's wedding party. And while indulging herself to some punch drinking, Jackie recognizes Mr Wilcox and his "gay old habits". The dynamics of the film is constantly driven by incidents; it's all about the serene and honorable standard of the British upper classes, perturbed by wake-up calls. This one illustrates the pervert interactions between the rich and the poor, the same Wilcox who didn't shed a tear for Bast, for "the poor are the poor, and one's sorry for them" didn't care of abusing an underage woman.
Margaret forgives Wilcox, but Helen can't forgive herself to have caused Bast' descent to poverty, she stays close to him. So close that we're not surprised, a few months later, to find her pregnant, for the ultimate plot device that highlighted the British system's greatest sin: hypocrisy. Helen is in the same position than Jackie was because of Wilcox, yet Wilcox forbids her to stay in Howard's End. The rich demonstrates an incredible zeal when the poor degrade British values, while their noble status launder all their faults. Wilcox, no matter how well mannered and intentioned he is, wouldn't allow Helen to stay.
And while his marriage comes to a dead-end, a failure to communicate, it's like Ruth's own spectra commanded the irresponsible Charles, the most foolish thing to do. Enthralled by his new ownership, Charles confronts Bast, and inadvertently kills him, leaving his father in a desperate need of Margaret, more than ever. The loop is looped, and "Howard's End" reveals itself to be more than a story of inheritance and property, it's a magnificent Oscar-winning screenplay made of sumptuously interlocking stories that paint an insightful and incisive portrait of the British classes, their interactions, and perceptions. And the ending translates into a fictional story, the very future of Britain, an aristocratic house left to a bourgeois, and who's going to benefit of it? The son of a poor man.
"Howard's End" is not just a riveting story, carried by superb performances -Emma Thompson totally deserved her Oscar as the sweet, caring but strong-willed Margaret- it's also the magnificent epitaph of an old order, in the same intensity and human resonance than "Gone With the Wind", like only the Ivory-Merchant could have produced.
Speaking of them, I'm glad I watched it after "The Remains of the Day", for the magnificent chemistry between Hopkins and Thompsons, probably the defining on-screen duo of the 90's (both nominated 4 times in this very decade) made up for their previous inhibitions.