By Kenzie Love
What’s your name, boy?” a stern faced work-house supervisor inquires of a charge near the beginning of Roman Polanski’s Oliver Twist. Because he is slow in responding the boy is thought a fool, though he can be forgiven for his confusion. Past versions of the classic tale have shortened his name to Oliver! in the 1968 Oscar-winning musical and Twist in the 2003 update set among hustlers in Toronto. Polanski goes with the full title for his film but it still feels like something is missing.
Admittedly, one can’t expect many surprises when the story has been brought to the screen so many times already and indeed there are few of them as Polanski is fairly faithful to Charles Dickens’ novel. One unfortunate departure from the text comes when, apparently frightened by the scarcity of food available at the work-house, Oliver rises from his cot at night and begins pacing back and forth. A child suffering from hunger is understandable, but weakness and fatigue seem like more natural reactions. Before long, however, he starts showing plenty of both, collapsing to the ground with remarkable regularity. Any moviegoer with a heart will feel sympathy for him initially, but the repetition suggests Polanski has forgotten the law of diminishing returns.
Oliver’s health–and our spirits–improve when a young pickpocket named the Artful Dodger takes the orphan under his wing and introduces him to his boss Fagin, portrayed by Ben Kingsley in the film’s one knockout performance. Gap-toothed and wrinkled, the actor is virtually unrecognizable physically, but in his usual fine form artistically. While Fagin is not a likeable character, Kingsley reveals a softer side, functioning as a father figure to Oliver and the other boys and taking twisted but genuine pride in their “work.” The other principals give less nuanced turns. Barney Clark is adequate as Oliver but shows a limited emo- tional range, and Jamie Foreman, wearing a perpetual scowl as the brutish Bill Sykes, shows no range at all. The film’s best performances are delivered instead by those playing minor roles. Chris Everton is a cruel but compelling Noah Clay Pole, the fellow child labourer who taunts Oliver in an early scene, and with his wild mane of red curls and maniacal grin Mark Strong makes Toby Crackit far scarier than his partner-in-crime Sikes.
Polanski’s most compelling images in the film are those of Victorian London’s squalid streets, hinting the poverty most of the characters endure is the root cause of their nastiness. Oliver manages to escape this hell, but he doesn’t come across as more deserving of the bourgeois comforts he receives courtesy of the wealthy Mr. Brownlow than anyone else, he’s simply lucky.
It’s been said Polanski must identify with Oliver as a fellow orphan and it’s probably true. He too went on to a life of riches, but supposedly he earned them. Whatever compelled him to film Oliver Twist again, it’s not enough to make his version the be-all-end-all adaptation of the book. Though it probably won’t be long until someone else tries, with a new variation of the name no doubt.