UNCOVERING THE FLANDERS PANEL: A REPORT FROM A FUGITIVE.

Adaptations again. Arturo Pérez-Reverte’s book The Flanders Panel was made into a movie called UNCOVERED, starring Kate Beckinsale, and I only just now heard the news. Reverte’s books are easy enough to find. But hunting down cinema adaptations is a tricky prospect.
   I’ve seen ALATRISTE, starring Viggo Mortensen, and The Ninth Gate with Johnny Depp. But it looks as though I must delve into the depths of legally spurious internet video sites to catch a glimpse of The Fencing Master.

 

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True. I stopped blogging to watch some dodgy Russian site. Comrade Cyrillic asked me, in Russian, to prove I wasn’t a robot. I answered by robotically ticking a box. There’s a mechanical flaw in that plan, somewhere. You could set a robot up to click the box proving you aren’t a robot. That’s what I did. Brrr-whizzz-click.
   Okay. I’ve now watched two Pérez-Reverte adaptations in one day, and I viewed them in the same order that I tackled the books in. UNCOVERED plays out like a TV show, and that’s okay. Not a criticism. I suspected, with the book’s title changed from The Flanders Panel, that we’d see the whole thing moved to a loft space in an edgy corner of London. But no. The story still takes place in Spain. Not in Madrid, though.
   Maybe the movie was set in Barcelona to gain a tax-break. Madrid, Barcelona, it’s all still Spain, right? Oof. The character of Julia is still Julia. Who is she, exactly? This is where your movie mileage may vary, and by vary I mean tank all the way to the bottom of the ocean if you restore paintings for a living. Or if you are really into chess, say.
   Julia restores very old paintings. This is her passion in life. If you restore very old paintings for a living, look away now. I imagine restorers sitting down to watch this murder mystery/art story/chess problem movie and…then exploding with rage to such an extent that their lungs fly in different directions and their stomachs end up painting the ceiling.
   For Julia, arty painting restorer, lights up a fucking cigarette. Then she gleefully starts restoring stuff. I suspect this isn’t something real restorers do. Ever. In a bajillion years. That would get you sent to art jail in the restoring community. And kneecapped if you even think of going near an art gallery or museum collection.
   Also, I don’t imagine restorers ever contaminate the art by kissing the fucking paintings. Just follow the movie rule, I guess. Restore like no one’s watching. Dance like you’re drunk and make your excuses. They restore paintings differently in Spain, I guess. (No, they don’t.) In movies, they do things differently. Leave it at that.
   So much for the movie and restoring art. In the book, Julia lights up a cancer-stick on page one, and contemplates the light coming in through the window. I’m going out on a limb here with the idea that paintings should be restored in windowless rooms. And the restorers should be dressed as though investigating a bloody murder.
   It was a different time. The nineties. And paintings from the 1400s, especially fictional ones, are incredibly robust. Or something. Especially the fictional paintings. But this is also a chess mystery novel adaptation, and, as far as I can gather, the chess is a tiny bit dodgy.
   The author Reverte is mentioned by name in an arty aside. It’s that kind of movie. Julia restores a painting: The Game of Chess. Two men play that game while a woman looks on. Additional painting covers the original art, hiding an inscription. Who killed the knight? As one of the players in the painting is a knight, the hidden message asks for the solution to a murder mystery.
   Spoiler. Five hundred years later, everyone in the painting is dead. However, Julia’s search for the solution to that mystery brings murder all the way up to the modern day. Of the 1990s. Someone continues the game of chess from the painting, and more death follows. Piece by piece.
   The book is the book. With a bit of tweaking, the movie follows as much of the book as it can in the time available. This was an early-career role for Kate Beckinsale and a late-career one for James Villiers. Michael Gough also puts in an appearance, just to chew a bit of scenery for the sake of it. This is the sort of movie that casts Art Malik in a role on the basis that his name ties in rather neatly with the cinematic theme of art.
   I’ll try not to genuinely spoil anything for you. In a fairly reduced cast, with bodies piling up, there aren’t really that many suspects. Here and there you work your way through a few painterly moments. There’s a flashback to the murder of the knight. The painting is brought to life for a few scenes. People play far less chess in the movie than you’d expect.
   The soundtrack is either quirky or conventional. Ominous music is ominous at ominous moments. If you feel the ending is a bit sudden, a bit Italian Horror Flick™, then know this: the movie gives you the satisfaction of seeing the endgame played out on a suspiciously-tiled floor. We see what they did there, all the way from outer space. The book doesn’t do it that way.
   Over in the movie, there’s the wonderful absurdity of a chess showdown with Budget Salvador Dalí. And I’m there for that. Admittedly the book, with its attendant chess diagrams, takes a bit of perseverance if you aren’t really into chess.
   You can get by with the diagrammatic assistance. The chess explanations in the movie are mercifully brief whether you are into chess or not. What makes sense in a chess game may make far less sense in a chess game devoted to murder.
   Rabid chess players are bound to create far more inventive moves that are logical while gaming. The chess here fuels murder, serving a different master. Let’s leave it alone as a concept. Rabid chess players shouldn’t fuss too much.
   Painters, restorers, and chess players may froth at the mouth over the wilder excesses of that adaptation. I turned my attention to The Fencing Master. Here, I suspect those who wield whippy swords are in awe or in shock from moment to moment.
   This adaptation had a budget the other film could only dream of. It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships… It is a time of turmoil in Spain. Guns are in. Swords are on the way out. Ben Kenobi… The Fencing Master is part of a vanishing world of honour and chivalry, where the sword meant something. An elegant weapon for a more civilised age.
   Against the backdrop of political turmoil in the 1800s, the ageing Fencing Master concentrates on his dwindling group of students. He ignores politics. But political forces don’t ignore him. A woman approaches the Fencing Master and asks to take lessons. He refuses. But she somehow charms him into taking on the role.
   He is obsessed with finding the perfect attack: a move that cannot be defeated. She, too, seems obsessed with technique, and asks to be taught a special move which the Fencing Master charges a lot of money to share. She offers above his asking-price. And he teaches her this move.
   Spoiler alert. She’s learning this stuff for a reason. You may suspect so from the moment she enters the story. Political matters come to a head and bodies start falling. The Fencing Master works his way through layers of mystery, and shady conspiracy, realising his involvement costs those around him dear.
   I’ll not say more. Except this. There’s a part of the plot that stays with you. This does not even involve fencing. But it does involve one of the Fencing Master’s acquaintances. Book and movie share this scene, though, for time-restraints, it is handled a little differently in the film. The plot point concerns highly conspiratorial paperwork. And there’s a neat piece of storytelling built into that.
   Strong on mood, depicting a man who is skilled in things that no longer seem to matter overmuch to a modern world lacking in chivalry, the movie is the perfect accompaniment to the book. I came to the books first, and then saw the films.
   And I’d say…if you are going to chase them down, then make your own decisions. Having read The Fencing Master before seeing the movie, I was looking for the broad points of the story conveyed through cinematic atmosphere. And the film certainly has that in buckets. But you could see the movie first and then seek out the book, and you’d be okay. Yes, you could seek out the movie on a legally grey streaming site.
   The other story, The Flanders Panel/UNCOVERED, is best-viewed in that order. Read the book. Follow the chess diagrams. You aren’t spoiling the movie for yourself if you read the book first, as the list of suspects isn’t exactly a mile long. In an ideal world, we’d always read the source material before the adaptation. But that often really is another story.