Review of Maurice (1987) by Paul Z — 09 Aug 2011

At Cambridge, two scholars become dear friends, and then one day in a gamble, one tells the other that he loves him. The man proclaiming his passion is Clive, an member of the aristocracy who can expect a life of affluence, advantage and maybe public office. The man he feels affection for is Maurice, also well bred, who may go into stocks. In the beginning, Maurice is stunned and revolted by what his friend says, but later that night he climbs through the window to give him a sudden, hot-blooded kiss and murmurs "I love you." This film from James Ivory and Ismail Merchant, themselves both lovers and collaborators, is about the abyss between romantic idealism and urgent animal passion. Maurice, which was finished in 1914, was Forster's effort to confront in fiction his own homosexuality, and the novel was concealed until after his death. The story is set before WWI, when homosexuality was legally forbidden in Britain and being found out meant discredit and shame.

Between Clive and Maurice, their views on love are contradictory. Clive is not that keen on the physical consummation of love. He feels it will "lower" them. His thinking is more spiritual and unrealistic. Maurice, once he has been familiarized with the concept of love between men, becomes a fervent romantic, and soon, Clive, the pursuer, becomes the pursued. Clive worries about publicity and scandal. He views homosexuality as something to be fought and conquered, and he ends it with Maurice to wed, take on his family duties and go into politics. Maurice is devastated, and there are bittersweet scenes in which he seeks out support from a hypnotist and the family doctor. Then he has a sexual episode of surprised fervor with Scudder, the coarse gamekeeper on Clive's land.

Merchant and Ivory convey this story in a film so perfectly understated and so astutely acted that it almost merits seeing purely to look upon the production. Scene after scene is flawlessly constructed: a sleepy afternoon drifting on the river behind the Cambridge campus, a haphazard cricket game between masters and servants, the everyday custom of college life, outings to country estates and town homes, the details of the rooms. Ben Kingsley, Simon Callow, Billie Whitelaw and Denholm Elliott are all compelling. While some find Wilby imprecise in the title role, I feel he makes proper choices, playing a guy whose most heartfelt thoughts were constantly elsewhere.

The question at the heart of the movie is with the chasm between Maurice's decisions. His first love is a person with whom he has much in common. They share wits as well as flesh. The gamekeeper is bluntly depicted as a coarse blue-collar kid, good-looking but simple. In the unbending class boundaries of 1914 England, the two men have little in common at all. The true reason their relationship is bold is not owing to sexuality but to status.

Will their love triumph over all? Maybe. Brute sexuality is a vital part of everybody, but particularly after that original passion has dampened down, it's not the most essential part. There comes a time when people need to basically relate to each other. Will that time ever come between Maurice and Scudder? If their choice to live together was a worthy and spirited thing, it would appear to contend that the most significant thing about them was their being gay. But because the story is about the internal strife of two young men confronting their homosexuality throughout times when it was criminal, the choices both Maurice and Clive make are based on survival, not ideal fulfillment. One may be happier than the other, but they'll always be running and hiding from how much they love each other.