Jane Eyre (1956): Greater Than the Sum of its Parts

Long before the 1973 and 1983 serializations of Jane Eyre, another series sought to capture the intricate tale, which is so hard to treat justly within a standard-length film. The 1956 adaptation was created by the BBC to test the popularity of drama series on the televisions that were suddenly profuse in British homes. While less true to the source material than the later serializations, this version pulls viewers in with a combination of dramatic acting and liberal sprinkles of Charlotte’s dialog.

My only access to this black-and-white series was through YouTube, where a somewhat washed-out print can be viewed. The six half-hour episodes contain occasional small gaps, and throughout the last three, language such as “JANE EYRE Ep. 4” appears near the top of the screen, while a timecode runs steadily along at the bottom. (Incidentally, the following year’s Jane Eyre film was in color; this one is, presumably, the final black-and-white version.) 

Action begins with Jane screaming in the red room. Unlike adaptations that had a child play young Jane, this one uses an adult actress [Daphne Slater] throughout. It’s jarring to see a woman in her late 20s bemoaning her mistreatment as if she were a ten-year-old. 

Just as the pictures are black and white, so, in large part, are the characters’ temperaments. Mr. Brocklehurst is particularly harsh, as is Miss Miller, the first teacher Jane encounters at Lowood. Miss Temple, on the other hand, is a gentle loving angel. Later, Rochester and St. John both alternate between angry accusations and subdued moments, while Adele is constantly charming and the Rivers sisters are rays of pure light. There is little in-between to be found in these three hours. 

As in the 1957 film, actors in this adaptation sometimes gaze into the distance while delivering their lines. That sort of habit marks this as a period piece. 

The roughly three-hour run time provides space for nearly the entire plot to be reproduced. Unlike many shorter versions, this one spends substantial time at Lowood; has a prolonged scene with the fortune-telling gypsy; shows Jane begging in the village of Morton; and concludes with Rochester running hot and cold about Jane returning to him, rather than rushing into acceptance and marriage. 

Naturally, alterations are made along the way. A few examples: 

·        Jane doesn’t advertise for a position; Miss Temple alerts her to a published job listing 

·        Rochester simply falls from his horse, with no accusations of Jane “bewitching” it 

·        Rochester (unwisely and forebodingly) tells Jane, after regaling her about his exploits with Celine Varens: “There’s something much worse … something you don’t know.” 

·       When Mrs. Fairfax tells Jane about Blanche Ingram’s beauty, Jane doesn’t go off to sketch contrasting portraits; she looks in a mirror and weeps 

·        Jane almost immediately accepts Rochester’s proposal, then hurries to tell Mrs. Fairfax 

Overall, though, the storyline runs reasonably true, and there is enough familiar dialog to please the ardent fan.  

As I said, Daphne Slater makes an odd impression as the child Jane. Once that character has grown, though, she gives a winsome performance. Her temperament bounces between piercing woe and sheer delight, another example of the black-and-white character portrayals mentioned earlier. 

Stanley Baker embodies Rochester as an even more mercurial employer and lover than in the book. It becomes hard to imagine why Jane would want to be with (and return to) someone so thin-skinned, whose anger needs little prompting to rush to the surface. Even in his humbler blind condition, he speaks sharply to her, despite her professions of devotion to him. 

Other cast members perform their over-simplistic roles adeptly. Brocklehurst is disturbingly hateful; Helen Burns, courageous in the face of cruelty and illness; Adele, buoyant; Fairfax, kind and unprepossessing; St. John, stridently persistent. One minor role that stood out to me was Hannah, keeper of the Rivers house. She stands up for, and insists on repeating, her beliefs even when they clash with her employers’ ideas.  

Assessing this series is a challenge. On one hand, it’s clearly dated in terms of acting methods and camera techniques. On the other hand, it is fairly complete, often uses authentic dialog, and has some actors who shine out from within their roles’ confines. I felt that while parts of it were regrettably done, the whole was oddly worthwhile. 

In terms of extended adaptations, I can’t rank this one as high as the 1983 series, which adhered well to the book and had a terrific cast. But the 1956 series somehow grew on me as I watched it. If you ignore the print quality and the over-emoting, you may find yourself similarly drawn in. 

Summary

STRENGTHS

• Three-hour run length encompasses virtually all of the book’s scenes
• Language from the book appears frequently
• Many actors make a strong impression, though the performances (due to the era) are seldom nuanced 

WEAKNESSES

• Emotions mainly have two levels: bright sunshine and fearful storm
• Rochester is so tempestuous that Jane’s devotion to him feels imprudent
• Low-fidelity print is sometimes shaky and generally a bit washed-out (obviously, this is not a fault of the original production)