White Mischief Movie Review

White Mischief is a tale of lust and violence in the Happy Valley region of Kenya. It is based on a true story, and what a story it is: in 1940, Sir Henry Delves Broughton, known as Jock, arrived in Kenya with his beautiful wife Diana. At 27, Diana was 30 years younger than her rich new husband, and it took her all of one day in Nairobi to become attracted to jock's friend Lord Erroll, a dashing 39-year-old peer. The meeting led to an affair, a murder, and a mystery, which writer James Fox claims to solve in his book about the seamy side of Kenya's aristocratic night life. The couple who stir up all the fuss are portrayed by Greta Scacchi and Charles Dance, two physically perfect specimens who, oddly enough, have no sexual chemistry between them at all. Their characters share decidedly earthbound passions: she wants sex and money, he wants money and sex. Michael Radford's script also defines them as a deeply stupid pair, completely lacking in imagination or depth. Our interest shifts, therefore, to the lady's aristocratic husband played with understanding and irony by Joss Ackland, a fine character actor. He is the sort of chap who has been denying reality for nearly 60 years and would probably continue to lead a boring, uneventful life were he not forced to confront his true feelings about his young wife's affair with a cad. Facing himself proves catastrophic for all three, although the film's final blood-letting is a melodramatic shuck. In real life, Sir Jock ended his days alone in a Liverpool hotel room with an overdose of medinal. Well, the director obviously wanted to say some something about the self-indulgent and self-destructive aspects of the idle classes. Imagine them lolling around on polo grounds and in orgies and on the beaches while Britishers at home were squaring their shoulders against the blitz! John Hurt, Geraldine Chaplin, and Trevor Howard (1916–88) are in it, too. And yet, except for Sarah Miles’ sly performance as perhaps the worst woman in Kenya, Radford's concept of decadence is rather too carefully staged, and his understanding of his female characters is nil. If Radford had told the story with simple economy and psychological precision, his moral concerns would still be apparent and have a far greater impact than they do now. In 1994, Radford directed his finest work to date, The Postman.

1988 (R) 108m/C Greta Scacchi, Charles Dance, Joss Ackland, Sarah Miles, John Hurt, Hugh Grant, Geraldine Chaplin, Trevor Howard, Murray Head, Susan Fleetwood, Alan Dobie, Jacqueline Pearce; D: Michael Radford; W: Michael Radford; C: Roger Deakins; M: George Fenton. VHS, LV, 8mm