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(Click on photographs for larger images.)
Reviewed by Beth Hannan Rimmels
Of all the literary adaptations TNT has done over the
years, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon probably ranks with Gettysburg
as being the toughest. Both Mists and Killer Angels – the book Gettysburg
is based upon – are thick tomes, though Mists is more than double the
size of Killer Angels. Both include epic war scenes. Both are
historically set tales, demanding careful attention to detail. Both feature
complex characters in difficult situations and fortunately have talented actors
worthy of the roles.
Yet, when push comes to shove, Gettysburg had
some advantages Mists doesn’t. The former could recruit die-hard Civil
War re-enactors, complete with their own uniforms and gear, to play extras. Mists
couldn’t. The size of novels also helped and hindered with Gettysburg
having to cut far less than Mists, and when it became apparent that Gettysburg
was likely to become one of the definitive films about the Civil War, running time
constraints were loosened even as a theatrical release was substituted for its
original TNT-only broadcast. By contrast, Mists is limited to a
four-hour window, which means a little more than three hours of actual story
once commercials are eliminated. Still, fans of Mists are just as
passionate and difficult to please as Civil War buffs, so could any TV
adaptation of The Mists of Avalon satisfy them while enticing viewers who
haven’t read the book?
In a word, yes.
From the first image of Morgaine (Julianna Margulies),
pale and intent, in the blue fog seeking the mystical isle of Avalon, the
miniseries has the right look even when it deviates from the novel. No deerskin
tunics for these priestesses, yet the blend of gritty, post-Roman Empire reality
and civilized otherworldliness feels right.
For those who haven’t read the novel, Mists is
usually described as "the story of King Arthur and Camelot from the
perspective of the women around him," but it’s much more than that. It’s
the story of an age ending, a new one beginning and the fragile period in
between. Prior to the start of the book, the few Christians in the British Isles
have coexisted peacefully
with the established Celtic Pagans who
worship both God and Goddess, but that is changing. The new Christian leaders,
who were careful to arrange marriages and alliances among their followers that
strengthened their positions, are not only insisting that there are no Gods other than their own, but that any
other deity is a demon in disguise and that all women are Satan’s tool.
Throughout the book, the priestesses and druids of Avalon struggle to maintain a
balance, demanding fair treatment for their followers in exchange for their
assistance in kingmaking, first with Uther Pendragon (Mark Lewis Jones) and
later with his son, Arthur (Edward Atterton). But time, human weakness, and,
perhaps, ill-conceived plans work against them, endangering all they hold dear.
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Margulies (l), Huston |
The bulk of the story revolves around three sisters –
Viviane, the Lady of the Lake (in other words, high priestess of Avalon),
Igraine and Morgause – as well as Arthur’s sister Morgaine and his wife
Gwenhwyfar. Viviane, played with perfect nobility by Anjelica Houston, is
desperate to preserve Avalon and its place in the "real world" at all
costs, sacrificing her own feelings and instincts for what may preserve the
Goddess in men’s hearts. To that end, she manipulates others, including her
own family, like pawns on a chessboard, with Igraine (Caroline Goodall) being
the first. Married off to Gorlois (Clive Russell), a Christian follower of the
old Roman ways, Igraine has dutifully produced a daughter, Morgaine (played by
Tamsin Egerton as a child), and hidden her own talent for the Sight, the ability
to see visions that was trained further during her own childhood on Avalon.
But High King Ambroius (Edward Jewesbury) is without an
heir and his successor must be able to unite the various factions –
descendents of Romans who remained in Britain, Celts who follow the old ways,
Christian converts and others – to fend off the barbaric invasions of the
Saxons. Viviane and the Merlin (a title, not a name, for the chief druid, played
here by Michael Byrne) also want a leader who will respect the old ways, so
Uther Pendragon is chosen, but he will need an heir from the old lineages, so
Igraine is told that she will become Uther’s wife. Wanting no part in
treachery, she refuses to betray her husband, but a meeting with Uther proves
Viviane’s claim that they are destined for each other. Gorlois’ own
treachery provides Igraine with the motivation to assist Uther, even if that
doesn’t stay her conscience.
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Huston (l), Egerton |
Rather than the end of the machinations, that is only
the beginning. A few years later, young Morgaine, also gifted with the Sight,
and her devoted brother Arthur are separated; she to the Isle of Avalon to train
as a priestess and he to anonymous fosterage to protect him from harm while
training him in the old ways of kingship. The consequences of their reunion are
devastating, though unrecognized at the time.
Along the way, we’re also introduced to Lancelot
(Michael Vartan), Viviane’s son, who rejects priest training on Avalon for the life a
warrior, thereby putting him in the path of dangerous destiny when he becomes
Arthur’s staunchest ally and greatest weakness. Gwenhwyfar (Samantha Mathis,
appropriately passive aggressive and seemingly weak) appears shortly thereafter,
smitten with Lancelot before she even learns of Arthur. The classic love
triangle remains – and includes a rather tastefully filmed ménage a trois
– but this version of Gwenhwyfar is guilt and sin-obsessed, making the trio’s
downfall even more inevitable.
Complicating things further are the evil schemes of
Morgause (Joan Allen, delicious in a role so different from the quietly
suffering wives she has previously played in Nixon and other films), who seeks power in any form but
rejects the responsibilities that come with it. The ways of Avalon are too slow
and well-intended for her taste, so she delves into the darker arts with which
to curse Gwenhwyfar with barrenness, thereby ensuring that her son, Gawain (Noah
Huntley), will succeed Arthur to the throne. Or at least that’s the plan until
she learns that Morgaine has given birth to Arthur’s son, Mordred (Hans
Matheson). From then on she uses Arthur’s ignorance of his son and Morgaine’s
guilt over the incest to distance the boy from his heritage and bind him to her
dark ambitions.
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Mathis (left), Atterton |
Through much of the miniseries, Arthur is torn between
Gwenhwyfar and Morgaine, both urging him to do what they earnestly believe is
right. The miniseries provides a bit more balance between the two viewpoints
than the book did, since the book made it clear that Gwenhwyfar thoroughly
believed the priests’ dogmatic arguments that women were sinful creatures who
unwittingly did Satan’s work. It’s hard for anyone with a modern sensibility
to completely take Gwenhwyfar’s side, but despising someone so weak is equally
hard. I couldn’t help wondering how she might have turned out if her
upbringing included a little positive encouragement and a lot less misogyny.
Distilling an 876-page novel to a three-hour movie
means that a lot of material is eliminated and to keep things coherent, what
remains is often rearranged and altered rather drastically, but the tone, spirit
and intent are true to the novel. So does it really matter if Igraine is alive
at the end rather than dying two-thirds of the way through if it helps to
preserve the emotional ending of the book? I don’t think so.
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Atterton (l), Huntley |
The only thing that would have served the miniseries
better is if more time had been devoted to explaining how Arthur betrayed
Avalon. There are brief mentions of the betrayal and references to his now
flying a Christian banner in battle rather than his father’s dragon banner,
but I’m not sure viewers who haven’t read the book will understand the
significance of it. Without that understanding, Viviane’s schemes could appear
unduly harsh and manipulation for its own sake, or worse, perhaps the work of a
group that is as bad as the Christian priests claim. The book makes it plain
that Viviane’s actions are the desperate schemes of a desperate people,
struggling against an overwhelming tide to preserve their beliefs, their way of
life, their culture and their dignity.
Near the end of the book, someone asks if all their
efforts were for nothing and it’s explained that no, it was all necessary,
because it bought time that allowed the Saxons to become civilized enough that
the music, arts and culture that came before would not entirely be lost. That
moment isn’t included in the miniseries, but I was happily surprised to find
that its religious equivalent was preserved. The means by which the story gets
to that moment are changed greatly, but the underlying truth that the Goddess
never left humanity is still there. She didn’t fall before unyielding priests’
fear of women. She simply took on other faces as Mary, St. Brigid and others,
continuing her work quietly as she holds back the forces of chaos and serving as
mother to us all.
The miniseries preserves the novel’s epic sweep
without losing the personal stories of the characters. The cast is superb and
more than able to speak volumes with a look or a gesture. The bulk of the
miniseries rests on Huston and Margulies, with the former setting in motion the
backbone of the story, and the latter deftly carrying the rest of the story
forward. I can’t praise their performances enough, except to reiterate that
with more time to delve deeper, it would have been glorious.
The Mists of Avalon should
please all but the strictest of literary purists. It provides fresh insight into
a time often consigned to pure legend, showing a credible version of how it
might truly have been. For those seeking the sheer entertainment of a historical
saga, it completely satisfies while simultaneously providing
arguments that the Christian revolution was needlessly harsh in its efforts to
eradicate all differing beliefs. The miniseries makes it plain that while Avalon
might have receded into otherworldly mists, many of its lessons and the
spirit of its people still live on today.
The Mists of Avalon premieres at 8 p.m. ET/PT July 15 (Part I) and July
16 (Part II) on TNT. Encore broadcasts: 10 p.m. ET/PT July 15 (Part I) and 10 p.m.
ET/PT July 16 (Part II); 12 a.m. ET/PT July 16 (Part I) and 12 a.m. ET/PT July 17 (Part II); 8
p.m. ET/PT July 20 (Part I and II); noon ET/PT July 21 (Part I and II); 8 p.m. ET/PT
July 30 (Part
I and II).
Review © 2001 Beth Hannan Rimmels.
Accompanying photographs © TBS/TNT, Inc. All rights reserved. Photo
credit: Erik Heinila.

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