Radio Times

February 4 - 10, 1995

The Buccaneers Sundays BBC1
The BBC washing machines have rinsed and spun their way through over a thousand period costumes for The Buccaneers, Edith Wharton's 19th-century drama of manners, on a low-temperature delicates/woollens wash that's kind to ageing fabric.

This five-part story of free-spirited young American women who, snubbed by the New York elite, decide to sail for England, is played out against a backdrop of silks and satins, with ten costume changes a day. The wardrobe caravan, sandwiched between location catering and the overgrown outbuildings of Houghton Lodge in Stockbridge, feels like a Chinese laundry. "You can't rule out the possibility of boring people with all that detail and authenticity," says director and producer Philip Saville. "We used to say that authenticity gets in the way of art. So I'm more interested in the art. I want people to
see the story."

Freeze frame on The Buccaneers, and art is exactly what you see. More Specifically, the art of James Tissot - a French painter who studied 19th-century society women. Maggie Wadey, who adapted the novel for television, was particularly inspired by the paintings Too Early (people who have arrived too early fora dance) and Waiting for the Concert (people who have arrived too early for a concert). Tissot's subjects weren't pushed for time. Costume designer Ros Ebbutt then adapted the artist's palette for the screen. Plums, purples, browns and dark greys for the English winter, and lighter primaries for the American summer. "It's just an idea of mine to show the characters progressing from one society to another," says Ebbutt. "Their nouveau riche ebullience quietens down when they move to England."
The painterly influence doesn't end there. Goya inspired the way Ebbutt dressed Conchita, played by American actress Mira Sorvino. "It's the wrong period, but the late 18th century was a very fashionable look to reproduce in the 19th century - polonaise dresses, the sleeves, the sashes, and the things they were doing with cross- over bodices. If they needed fantastically expensive fabric I didn't often buy it. You can nearly always find something else that works. Some of the dresses I've been particularly pleased with haven't been costly at all. I bought I a Victorian dress from a dealer that wasn't in tremendously good repair. The sleeves were missing, the skirt had holes, so we recut the bodice and used some new fabric for an under- skirt. Our budget's never so big that we don't need to worry."

The Buccaneers is more than a wardrobe outing. Wharton's writing might not have the complexity of characterisation displayed by George Eliot or Charles Dickens, but this portrait of frivolity has its dark side. In the end sophistication finally destroys the individual's capacity to be free. That's why the baubles and h bows are so important. "The moment you put people in the dress of a previous century," says Saville, "it becomes costume drama. But this is a timeless story that could be in the 18th, 19th or 20th centuries - even given a robotic setting in the 21st century. We're just trying to reinvent
Wharton's world for a modern audience. It's not that hard. Old photographs were only so stem looking because subjects had to stand still for a count of five. Otherwise the image would blur. As you'll see in The Buccaneers, the Victorians weren't always so proper."


The Victorians had a very busy approach to interiors, and Tony Burrough, production designer, has been cluttering up the set -literally. His is the eye that oversees the final product, from the colours of the flower arrangements, to the texture of the curtain material and the smallest detailing on the mantelpiece. "Historical accuracy is fine," says Bur- rough, "but there's no point in having a beautiful chaIr, historically perfect, alongside a beautiful table, if the woods and inlays don't blend. It all needs to fit together.

"In The Buccaneers we go from the grandest of mine stately home, austere and impressive, to the small London townhouse of Miss March [played by Connie Booth], with fringed furniture, and .every surface covered with pictures in little frames. You create an environment you believe the character would inhabit."

Costume drama isn't necessarily the apogee production designer's career. Burrough dressed the upcoming epic Great Moments Aviation- a BBC film starring Jonathan Pryce, in Pinewood studios - and even oversaw the building of a transatlantic ocean liner. "The Grass Arena" was another tricky one. The play told the story of John Healy's life, from his boy-hood in the 50s, and his down-and-out years in particular ly the 60s, to his time in prison in the 70s. I had to give quick clues. I didn't want to do it obviously - 'we're in the 60s, so let's all wear
miniskirts' - and I still had to bear in mind
that the trimmings weren't all up-to-date in the 70s. People still had Victorian and Edwardian furniture. As with The Buccaneers, it was a matter of balance."
Finding locations wasn't always easy. The story is set in Saratoga, which has fallen prey
to the developer since 1870 - "just multi -storey car parks and supermarkets now," says SaVille. "So we went to Newport, Rhode Island, where the Astors had their summer season, and con- vened for balls and soirees." Some props were shipped over for the sake of continuity (such as the distinctive trunk owned by radical English governess Laura Testvalley, played by Cherie Lunghi), but the rest were hired in America. "They haven't got the set-up we have here," says Burrough. "Hollywood has, but we were on the east coast. It was almost as far away as London was. So we hired from antique shops. That meant paying out a percentage of the value - usually 10 per cent for rental. And that soon mounts up."
Filming in the greatest country houses in Britain wasn't much easier. The owner of Grimsthorpe Castle had luxurious white shag pile in the state rooms. Days before filming was due to begin, she decided the carpets weren't to " be removed, forcing the production team to lay fake floors. Plans to recreate a Duchess's boudoir in Castle Howard were shelved be- cause of background noise from tractors and sightseers. Only Houghton Lodge went ac- cording to schedule. "Well, we broke a perfume bottle and a couple of little oil lamp shades," says Burrough, "but there were no major catas- trophes. It shouldn't affect our no-claims bonus. It was worth it anyway. The way the lawn slopes down to the river, with no embarrassing pylons obscuring the horizon, the shape of the rooms, and the detailing on the doors and the windows. Ideal for us really."
The end result is a chocolate-box delight. Wadey, who adapted Wharton's novel, was in- Vited on to the set in Hampshire, prettied up to pass for 19th -century Runnymede. "When you go on set there's a complete sense of disorien- tation because everything's different from the way you pictured it. I imagined the house much closer to the river, and the garden more open. And yet it was almost like a dream. People were saying and doing exactly the things I was expecting.
"You always kid yourself you're going to be useful in some artistic way on set. Once, on The Duchess of Duke Street, I got sent back to the hotel to write a new scene - but on The Buc- caneers, the most useful thing I did was carry an extremely heavy bag for the stills photog- rapher. Then get him a cup of tea. And they say writers aren't appreciated."