Little Dorrit

We are now three quarters through the recent Andrew Davies adaptation of Little Dorrit. How does it stack up against other Dickens adaptations? I think one must compare it to the more obscure Dickens, the 800 page table thumpers like Bleak House, Our Mutual Friend, Martin Chuzzlewit, and the like. The most popular books (and thus adaptations) consist of the lone, young male hero, making his way in the Victorian jungle (e.g. Nicholas Nickleby, David Copperfield, Great Expectations, etc.). Dorrit is not Dickens at his best, and suffers from the usual sprawling and tangled plot and a florid sentimentality. Dickens was best at creating memorable characters, endowing them with humor and sympathy. When he tried his hand at sketching human institutions in the same way he drew human characters, he was not as successful, and Little Dorrit features the lamentable "Circumlocution Office." Its intrusions are unwelcome and off-key, both in the book and this drama.

Davies, the master adaptationist, has succeeded with the material. Near as I can tell from having slogged through about a thousand pages, the center of the story is the contrast between the eponymous Amy Dorrit and her father, an inmate of the Marshalsea debtors' prison. In classic ironical fashion, Mr. Dorrit's life exhibits meaning and even grace within the confines of the prison. Once he achieves his dearest dream of release from the prison, however, he falls apart. Amy, on the other hand, maintains an admirable and beautiful equanimity in poverty and riches.


Claire Foy, as Amy Dorrit, has rescued the literary character from other-worldly sainthood. It's a perfect example of wonderful physical casting, as she has to be a slight person, while at the same time portraying great moral force. In these enterprises, there is always some minor character who steals scenes, and in this case it is the gruff but tender-hearted debt collector Pancks. A casting failure: Tattycoram is portrayed by black woman, which is anachronistic and a silly multi-culti conceit. The entire Miss Wade/Tatty subplot was further tainted by the barest whiff of injected lesbianism. The creative class must have its say.

Bottom line: you can't go wrong with Andrew Davies, though for my money the best in this class is still Our Mutual Friend.