In Le Week-End, Jim Broadbent’s melancholy professor Nick Burrows described his fate as such: “Think of me as falling out of a window for I am well and truly fucked.” Which is how his “mudge” (daughter-speak for “curmudgeon”) of a character Anthony Webster in Nick Payne’s screen adaptation of Julian Barnes’ Man Booker Prize-winning novel of the same name feels when he receives a couple of letters which stir long-forgotten, misremembered and embellished memories of his youth.

First, from the solicitor of the late mother of his ex-lover Veronica Howard (Charlotte Rampling in the here and now, Freya Mavor in the there and then), which refers to a diary bequeathed to him from Adrian Finn (Joe Alwyn), a college friend who ran away with Veronica and soon after committed suicide. Second, “a very nasty letter” by his younger self (Billy Howle) addressed to Adrian and Veronica which she returned to him some forty years later. None of which he expected, both of which released him from his “holding pen” of an existence characterised by living carefully and avoiding being hurt.

Through minimal narration, frequent flashbacks of his time at college and short-lived relationship with his first love Veronica, and one-to-one conversations in real-time with his “workaholic” ex-wife Margaret (Harriet Walter) and pregnant daughter Susie (Michelle Dockery), the mystery surrounding the significance of the letters and the huge impact they have had on Anthony slowly bubble to the surface. All of which leads to his enigmatic conclusion that “What you end up remembering isn’t always what you actually witnessed” and, as his old school friend Adrian once said, the truth is something “we may never know”.

I haven’t read Julian Barnes’ best-selling book, so I’m not in a position to say how faithful or not Nick Payne’s adaptation is to the original. However, judging by the crisp dialogue, philosophical musings and literary references, I’m guessing the answer is very. Though one of the more memorable moments, testament to second-time director Ritesh Batra (The Lunchbox), is the bold use of silence and fixed camera position when Veronica rebuffs Anthony’s back-of-a-car-seat advances. “Tony, it doesn’t feel right.” Silence. “Do you ever think about where our relationship is heading?” Silence. “Does it have to head somewhere?” Silence. End of Scene.

Jim Broadbent, like the rest of the cast, is excellent and proves once again his great versatility in that he is just as impressive in a heartfelt drama as he is in a twinkly-eyed comedy. Charlotte Rampling’s screen time may be minimal, but her performance fills the screen with less-is-more subtlety and depth. As does Harriet Walter’s whose succinct reply to “What are you doing this evening?” is straight out of the Larkin book of one-liners: “Working. What else.” But the spoken text of Barnes and Paynes is more than matched by the unspoken subtext of the ensemble cast – and credit for that must go to Indian director Ritesh Batra whose career in feature film, I sense, is just beginning.

Video courtesy of: Movieclips Film Festivals & Indie Films

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Peter Callaghan
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