"The bad dreams always come back again like unwanted friends," says Marion Fairlie, who with her half-sister, Laura, lives in a vast mid-Victorian country estate. "And last night I found myself in Limmeridge churchyard. Normally, people who are dead stay dead, just as normally it is the criminals who are locked up rather than the victims. But then, there was nothing normal about what happened to us..." And we're off on a first-class Gothic story of madness, deception and villainy, based on Wilkie Collins' great novel of Victorian mystery. It's a good idea to pay close attention, because there are plots within plots, yet they all center on a cunning and ruthless scheme which involves, what else, money, lots of money. 

Marion Fairlie (Tara Fitzgerald) and her sister, Laura Fairlie (Justine Wadell) are devoted to each other. Marion is fierce and protective; Laura is softer and much more romantic. Marion has no money of her own; Laura will inherit riches when she comes of age. Marion has no marriage prospects that we know of; Laura has been pledged sometime ago to Sir Percival Glyde (James Wilby), an altogether too charming aristocrat. They are the wards of their uncle, a fussy, condescending, immensely self-centered hypochondriac (Ian Richardson). All seems to be quite routine, but then a young artist, Walter Hartright (Andrew Lincoln), is engaged to teach them drawing and artistic appreciation. And when he arrives at night to the local train station, there is no carriage, so off he sets out on foot to the estate. In the dark woods he encounters a strange woman, dressed all in white, wandering about and speaking of things he does not understand, who then disappears. Are we uneasy? Yes, and so is he and the sisters when they come to realize the strange woman looks much like Laura. Later, does love emerge between Walter and Laura? Does a bud bloom? Is there a misunderstanding that sends Walter away and results in Laura marrying Sir Percival? Does a canker gnaw? And do secrets slowly come to light about the relationships among Laura, Marian and the woman in white...do we learn to be deeply suspicious of Sir Percival's intentions...do we come to enjoy the style and manners of Sir Percival's close friend, Count Fosco (Simon Callow)...and do we eventually realize the foul depths of depravity, as well as the power of honor and true love, that humanity is capable of? Do we visit Victorian insane asylums, see falls from high towers, dig open graves in the middle of the night and watch retribution arrive amidst the roaring flames of a locked church? 

Well, of course, and it's a grand journey for us. 

This BBC/Masterpiece Theater program features fine acting and outstanding production values. To fit Collins' 500-plus-page novel into a television show of less than 120 minutes means a good deal had to be cut or abridged, and some changes were made most likely to achieve greater impact in the little time available. Still, taken on its own terms, the production of The Woman in White in my opinion works very well as a moody, romantic, dark television tale. Tara Fitzgerald as Marion gives a commanding performance as a woman determined to protect and then save her sister. James Wilby as Sir Percival manages the clever feat of slowly letting us see the depraved slime beneath the skin, who still has charm amidst the villainy. Ian Richardson as the young women's uncle almost steals the show. He gives such a bossy and pungent performance it almost unbalances the story every time he appears. Perhaps the weakest of the main parts is Simon Callow as Count Fosco. The Count is simply a monster, yet a supremely civilized and charming one. Collins described him as being of immense girth. Callow does a fine, mannered job of it, but to me he lacks a little of the monstrosity of evil. 

At one point, Marian tells us, "My sister and I are so fond of Gothic novels, we sometimes act as if we were in them." Little did she know what was in store for herself and Laura.

Sentiment: positive