Back in the 80s and 90s there was a subset of gentile queerness that could best be summed up with three words, “Merchant Ivory gays,” after the lavish cinematic costume dramas released by independent film company Merchant Ivory Productions. Now producer Ismail Merchant, director James Ivory, writer Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, composer Richard Robbins and their close collaborators are the centre of Stephen Soucy’s wildly entertaining and frank documentary that charts the company’s rise and fall, and the gay love story at its core.
The iconic company, most famous for its literary adaptations of the works of E. M. Forster and Henry James, infused its costume dramas with passion. While the company would make 44 films from 1963 to 2009, it is their trio of 80s and 90s hits, A Room With A View, Howard’s End and The Remains of the Day that cemented their place in cinema history. This was Bridgerton before Bridgerton. They would elevate a generation of new talents like Helena Bonham-Carter, Rupert Graves, Hugh Grant, and Emma Thompson into stardom and cement the legacies of Anthony Hopkins and Vanessa Redgrave. Perhaps more importantly, they would bring Forster’s posthumous classic Maurice to the screen in 1987, giving the world a positive gay romance as HIV/AIDS gripped the headlines and stoked a new wave of homophobia.
On the outside, Merchant Ivory looked like the epitome of British calm, but in reality they were a band of renegades frantically kicking under the surface just to stay afloat. They were a wild, incestuous Bloomsbury Set of cinema, often living together, working together and for some, loving together. Working at a breakneck pace, with often literally non-existent budgets, this small family would eventually fracture.
Filled with outspoken interviews from contributors (including most of the major stars) they paint a picture of Indian Merchant as the lovable huckster/con-man and American Ivory as the calm, perfectionist whose skills complement each other completely. While German-born Jewish novelist Jhabvala stayed above the fray, determined to make the core of the material as watertight as possible, to the point of altering (and arguably improving) the classics she was working with. Together these three, along with composer Richard Robbins, created a template of cinema combining luxurious visuals & sound, brilliant casting and a deep respect for the author.
What is most refreshing about Soucy’s film is the sheer bluntness of the interviewees. From cast to crew, no one here has any fucks left to give and are happy to laugh and throw shade where necessary. Everyone speaks of the hard work with an air of joy. In archive interviews. Hopkins says Merchant could “charm the birds out of the trees” while Jhabvala says she fully expected to end up visiting him in prison one day due to his financial wheeling and dealing.
Soucy is not afraid to push his interview talent and see how they push back, his lack of reverence keeps the film alive. Redgrave is erasable. The likes of Emma Thompson, Greta Scacchi, Felicity Kendall, and Hugh Grant are all mischiefly droll. But best of all are Ivory’s own interviews, filled with affection and sly humour.
While it was widely known that Merchant and Ivory were a couple, they never spoke of their relationship in public. As Ivory reveals in the film, this was out of respect for Merchant’s conservative family. However now Ivory himself is happy to go into detail of their love, their working life and the complex relationship they had that formed the heart of this ramshackle company. For Ivory, his journey has come full circle with his career as an Oscar-winning screenwriter, bringing Andre Acimen’s Call Me By Your Name to the screen. A beautiful grace note from the man who directed Maurice.
Stephen Soucy’s film Merchant Ivory avoids becoming a bland hagiography and makes for a hugely enjoyable watch. It’ll leave you charmed and wanting to seek out the Merchant Ivory films you loved and the ones you never got round to seeing.
By Chad Armstrong