A fine escape

Press, 9 December 1988, Page 11

A fine escape

Ken Strongman

on television

“Goodbye Mr Chips” is obviously an old potato, but equally obviously one that will always be thought of with much affection. Roy Marsden makes a fine Mr Chips and once again shows his great versatility. Chips is a far cry from Dalgleish, and he managed the ageing process with great skill.

Apart from this, it is a story which demonstrates that interesting literature does not have to be agonised over — James Hilton wrote it in four days. It has the usual 8.8. C. attention to detail and provided them with a good chance to dig out all those pre-war clothes and give them a good brushup. Of course, there is no problem with the sets since Britain is full of prewar architecture, which, in its turn, is frequently still full of pre-war furniture.

The awful life of a second-rate boys school is portrayed with a close exactness. There is a dreadful weight to phrases such as “The second Punic wars,” “Life is hard,” “de bello Gallico” and “a hundred lines before the dormitory bell.” They ring out against a background of muddy brown and grey, which somehow imbues anything meritorious with a sense of pathos.

Mr Chips is a truly,

splendidly, pathetic character, a fine example, if not the finest, of the fictional schoolmaster. (Most recently, this culminated in Edward Fox’s marvellous portrayal of St John Quartermaine, in Simon Grey’s play last weekend.) Anyway, the sheer joy at simple things which Marsden manages to get into Mr Chips’s voice, and which is such an integral part of such men, is beautifully done.

This was a world of some very fine although nearly forgotten attitudes. “We women have quite enough to do at home.” “To act on impulse is unforgiveable.” This was that most excellent of worlds in which proper ladies were a little daring

if they rode bicycles and they certainly did not call on gentlemen unchaperoned. Quite right too; there was something to be said for it.

Chips’s relationship with Katherine was very well done. “Katherine, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” — down on his knees, where he should be. "Honour be blowed; you love me” — thus a liberated, but not shrill, woman. It is delightful. As much as anything, dramatisations of this sort are a fine antidote to the crassness which is blasted at us much of the time. It might be corny, but is so well done that this becomes irrelevant.

The difficulty in attempting to review something as good as this is that it is so compelling that the reviewing pen lies still. Only when the advertisements force their entirely unwanted attention can a few notes be made. In the end, some things are almost too good to review.

The moment the first episode was finished, one could only continue to think about Mr Chips, either as an old man reminiscing, or as a middle-aged man barely believing in his good fortune. It is best not to go on. If you missed part one, watch the second and final part next Tuesday. It is a lovely escape from the modern world.