Lady Chatterley’s Lover, a banned book for decades in the US, Canada, Australia and more as well as the subject of litigation due to its explicit and “obscene” nature, written by D.H. Lawrence, has been adapted (again) for the silver screen. While the subject of classism is certainly a theme found in many movies recently (“The Menu,” “Parasite,” “Us,” “Sorry to Bother You,”), “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” is just as poignant as it is risqué…and it is quite the latter. If you’re not familiar with the tale, it’s a love story from the early 1900’s as a newly wedded upper class woman to an aristocrat falls in love with her estate’s married gamekeeper. Of course, there’s more to it than meets the eye (and oh, do we ever get an eyeful), as screenwriter David Magee and Director Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre (“The Mustang” 2019) stay true to Lawrence’s tale of star-crossed lovers.
We meet the young couple, Connie (Emma Corrin) and Lord Clifford Chatterley (Matthew Duckett) on their wedding day. It’s also the day before Clifford is to go back to the front lines during WWI. His fear of what lies ahead becomes painfully true and while he does return, he does so in a wheelchair. Unable to produce an heir, he encourages his beautiful, vibrant young wife to find “an appropriate” match to father a child, of course keeping it a secret. Angered by this, Connie begins to see Clifford and all men in a different light. But it isn’t until her burning desire to be with a lowly estate worker Oliver (O’Connell), that she is emotionally, intellectually, and physically awakened.
Her disappearances into the woods for hours on end alarm the rest of the staff, all suspicious of her whereabouts until the situation comes to a head. Decisions must be made and, at a time when marriage was more of an arrangement for finances and status and not for love, it’s a difficult one to make.
The story takes place during a time when women didn’t talk about their needs, especially their physical ones, being met. This independent spirit and bold look at this aspect is still one that perhaps some will find taboo particularly as we watch Connie and Oliver dive deeply into one another. (Think “Outlander” here.)
Gorgeously shot, we feel the constraints that Connie experiences while wasting away inside the cold and ominous castle they call home. Drifting further and further away, Clifford lives like a bachelor, hanging out with his mates each night, drinking and ignoring his wife. Duckett plays his role as Clifford elegantly as we feel his anger about being in a wheelchair, unable to care for himself and unable to perform his husbandly duties. Slowly, we also begin to find him as a cad which helps us, the viewer, justify what Connie has chosen to do.
At the heart of the story is love versus obligation and with a deft hand, Clermont-Tonnerre elicits these two polar opposite tones with ease making it a relevant story for the 1920’s and the 2020’s. Of course, a story like this doesn’t work unless you’ve got chemistry between the main characters and the magnetism we feel between Oliver and Connie is palpable. Corrin is outstanding as Connie, walking the fine line between a proper aristocrat and an emotionally starved woman. She lets us in, allowing us to hear her voice as she struggles with her experiences.
The final product is searingly sexual as it takes its time to create a believable storyline about life, marriage, and the obstacles placed before us. While this may not be for everyone as the scenes are quite suggestive, it stays true to the original tale and speaks to equality on every level for a woman.