‘War and Peace’: a visually breathtaking and concise adaptation of Tolstoy’s masterpiece
Emma Hulse
Instagram/war_and_peace_
The BBC certainly didn’t lack ambition when they decided to take on Tolstoy’s colossal masterpiece. Whenever anyone tries to transfer a classic from the page to the screen, they always run the risk of cutting out too much and losing the charm of the original, and never more so than with War and Peace. Considering the size of the source material and the multitude of previous adaptations, creating a fresh interpretation was always going to be difficult. In this case, however, I think the risk paid off.
Tolstoy’s epic novel follows the lives of five aristocratic families during Napoleon’s invasion of Russia, and is widely considered as one of the greatest literary works of all time. I finally got round to reading it during the 2020 lockdown and can confirm that it truly is a magnificent book. Its only drawback is the length – all 1225 pages of it.
For those of you who haven’t got the time or energy to invest in such a hefty tome, the 2016 series of War and Peace condenses Tolstoy’s masterpiece into a much more manageable format that can easily be binge-watched in a day.
While it is true that screenwriter Andrew Davies (perhaps best known for his beloved Ehle-Firth version of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice) glosses over some of the secondary plot lines in order to fit Tolstoy’s dense story into six one-hour episodes, it’s without huge detriment to the overall series. This is because he sticks to the original where it really counts, maintaining all the expansive beauty of the novel.
One of my favourite scenes from the series appears in the third episode, when Prince Andrei, jaded with the world and withdrawn from society, argues with Pierre Bezukhov over the nature of life. In the novel, Tolstoy is constantly searching for what it means to ‘live well’ and this pivotal scene marks the first overt exploration of this idea – and it is beautifully done. Through well-chosen camera angles that emphasise the sky behind them, cinematographer George Steel manages to perfectly capture the insignificance of the two characters compared to the vastness of nature.
And this is just one scene amongst the many that I thought really did justice to the book: the sumptuous ballroom scene, and the heartfelt exchanges between Natasha and Pierre in later episodes, to name but a few.
However, that is not to say that the BBC has entirely captured the spirit of the original. The driving force of Tolstoy’s masterpiece is his fatalistic view of history, the idea that historical events are the result of many smaller, inconsequential decisions made by individuals. Although, it would have admittedly been very difficult to portray on screen, this philosophy is largely missing from the series. That said, while the 2016 series is perhaps not as faithful as previous adaptations in this regard, it certainly makes up for it in style.
For one, this series boasts a stellar cast, in both major and minor roles. Lily James is enchanting as the spirited Natasha Rostova, while James Norton plays the brooding hero, Andrei Bolkonsky, with remarkable depth and sensitivity. Paul Dano is perhaps more subtle than the other two leads, but I think that this softness is perfect for Pierre, particularly in later episodes.
Aside from the leading trio, the supporting cast also do a wonderful job at breathing life into the scandalous society of Tolstoy’s novel, despite their limited screen time, with performances from Jim Broadbent, Gillian Anderson, Stephen Rea, and Rebecca Front, among others.
One of the highlights of this series is the cinematography. Right from the opening scene, the use of tracking shots to lead us around Anna Pavlovna’s luxurious soirée instantly give the adaptation a much more modern feel, whilst creating the impression that everyone is constantly in motion, as if we’ve seamlessly joined the flowing mass of humanity illustrated throughout Tolstoy’s novel.
The rest of the series is just as visually breathtaking, with magnificent palaces that put other period dramas to shame, and sweeping vistas of St Petersburg and Moscow, wonderfully combined with the deep-voiced choruses of Martin Phipps’ soundtrack.
All in all, the BBC’s 2016 adaptation of War and Peace is a very stylish, modern take on Tolstoy’s novel, with gorgeous visuals and a brilliant cast. It is perhaps not the most in-depth of interpretations (which is inevitable given that there are only six episodes), but it remains faithful to the original, and I think it actually benefits from being more concise. I hope that everyone who was put off by the sheer size of the novel will watch this series and be drawn in by Tolstoy’s beautiful story, and maybe even be encouraged to take the time to read the novel as well!