The Box of Delights

 

Produced in 1984 and recently re-released in a special edition blu ray, the BBC’s The Box of Delights adaptation is lauded as a classic and it’s easy to see why. With an unprecedented for the time £1m plus budget the six-part serial places John Masefield’s story in as many real surroundings as possible with a minimum of tv studio and a maximum of location while depicting the more fantastical elements largely using animation. It’s an approach that gives the production a timeless look which, had it relied solely on blue screen effects of the day, might appear more ragged to the modern eye. Noticeably where it does do that those are the bits that have dated the most though the composition of many of them still looks good. A serial that is fondly recalled by a generation, how does it hold up forty years on?

 

The novel was originally published in 1935 so we can assume this is when it takes place. Schoolboy Kay Harker is travelling home to the village where he lives for the Christmas holidays, a journey which involves two puzzling encounters, on the train and then upon arrival. He is given a small magical box by a Punch and Judy man and this object turns out to be both powerful and the target of a magician called Abner Brown and his gang. They have ensconced themselves in the village and have kidnapped (or as it is delightfully described "scrobbled") an unfeasibly large number of people to track the object down. Utilising the box’s powers that can cause its current owner to fly, be miniaturised or even travel back in time, Kay proves to be remarkably adept and inventive in keeping it out of the villain’s hands as the stakes get higher.

Though he is somewhat unenthusiastic about his acting efforts nowadays, Devin Stanfield embodies the fascinated character of Kay Harker and his naturalistic performance works here. He is the archetypal Thirties child with limitless imagination and a willingness to get stuck into adventure. In fact all the kids possess that early twentieth century vibe of being relentlessly enthusiastic. Thankfully the production remains in period rather than choose to add any more modern vernacular. It is, as one character declares, “Splendiferous”. It’s amazing to discover just how much freedom of movement children seemed to have then though.  Kay and co seem able to wander off as they wish and the police show little interest in their reporting strange matters. For the time they are relentlessly inquisitive protagonists; Kay in particular behaves with the demeanour of a fearless adventurer. There is more than a whiff of Famous Five to the sequences with Kay and the other kids and their simpler approach to life.

Adding some gravitas is Patrick Troughton, sporting massive hair and beard while lending a mysterious authority to the story as Cole Hawlings, ostensibly a Punch and Judy man yet originating from Pagan times. He seems like a sea of calm amongst the scrambling kids and the declaiming villains though unfortunately the character is absent for the middle part of the story. As Abner Brown, Robert Stephens is allowed to leap right over the top. It is a performance that seems overtly mannered now, clearly a stage actor not realising a different kind of approach is needed on television. He works well when brooding but especially in the latter two episodes when much of his dialogue is to himself it just seems too much. All of the antagonists are presented as grotesques of some sort or other but there are some enjoyable performances notably Geoffrey Larder and Jonathan Stephens as the conniving henchmen Foxy faced Charles and Chubby Joe.

The story is packed full of aspects that absorbed generations of children reading the novel and this version rattles along driven by an enthusiastic cast plus some excellent direction from Renny Rye then in the early stages of his career. It is the case though that this is a meandering story which seems to keep introducing new things that are not always explained. Why for example does the story’s villain Abner Brown kidnap large numbers of people including a Bishop without realising someone might notice they are missing? Why does he keep a boy trapped in a fountain? How is he able to communicate with a metal head? Why indeed is he obsessed with the magical box as well as the haul of jewels and gold he has stashed away in the basement of the cathedral?  What is the significance of wolves, touted early on then sort of lost later in the story? These and other questions probably didn’t bother the juvenile audience back in the Eighties because the end results are so well realised.

It’s a tale that requires considerable special effects and the ones here are state of the art for the time it was made utilising Chroma key and Quantel allowing a better composition with real backgrounds. Watched once by kids in late 1984 it would no doubt impress more than it might do now that we have such sophisticated digital effects.  Sequences of Cole walking into a painting, the kids miniaturised while sailing a toy boat down a stream or where Kay leaps over a fortress wall on a horse are realised strongly plus there is a terrific explosion in the last episode, which apparently really did cause part of a roof to collapse. Even some moments you may hardly notice such as the miniature Kay being swept off a step are excellent examples of what could be achieved. One scene that works less well is when Kay is taken back to a fortress being attacked by wolves – the scene was clearly shot without real snow and the wolves look about as dangerous as puppies. Still, you have to applaud the ambition and Renny Rye does his best to hide these practical issues. 

I reckon that a less electronic incidental music score would have completed the production rather more suitably as the one by Roger Limb is similar to that used at the same time in Doctor Who. A better choice might have been medieval style music, perhaps even played on instruments replicating the period. 

The story draws extensively from mythology and proves something of a mash up of Arthurian legends, Christmas mythology and fairytales. That metal head in this production seems to be inspired by Metropolis. More than that, the production embodies the festive season.  Layers of real thick snow mean you can almost feel the cold when watching it. The snow does vanish half way through the story though as it had fallen during filming and presumably the later episodes were shot first.

All that being said and admittedly not having read the source novel there are times when it seems as if a lot of loosely connected incidents are happening to divert us from the main story. It is very much an episodic tale in which characters come and go to be forgotten later except for Herne the Hunter who shows up when needed. The box of delights itself is clearly a McGuffin yet it is used comparatively inventively.

A lot of the narrative inconsistencies and even the visual choices can be explained by the denouement in which – in true old fashioned storytelling tradition- the whole thing has been a dream Kay had while still on the train. It explains the cartoonish aspects, the mixing of mythologies, the kids’ adventurous spirts and the box’s cool usefulness.  So, think of The Box of Delights as being more about the journey than the destination. Yet what a classy journey it is.

(The blu ray release also comes with a lengthy, very well produced making of feature interviewing many of the cast and crew as well as accompanying Devin Stanfield and Renny Rye back to the locations though I notice they went in the summer this time!)