When it comes to literary icons, few define British theatricality more than Noël Coward, who remains the gold standard for many playwrights, directors and actors. His career was long and filled with sojourns into nearly every genre and medium that was available to him, and found a niche within the world of literature that few writers have ever been able to achieve. As one of the finest playwrights of his generation, as well as an oddly prolific one, it stands to reason that Coward’s output would have its fair share of film adaptations, many of them being memorable, if not slight, works of comedically-charged satire. The most recent effort to bring his work to the stage came in the form of Edward Hall’s attempt to capture the (literal) magic of Blithe Spirit, Coward’s deliriously funny tale of the supernatural, focused on a writer struggling with both his own failing marriage, and the arrival of his deceased ex-wife, who is accidentally manifested by an incompetent medium. In no uncertain terms, this isn’t a particularly good adaptation for a number of reasons, which we will discuss in due course. However, taken for what it is, and considering any alternative means that could’ve been employed, this is far from the travesty it has been made out to be, instead functioning as a reliable but somewhat forgettable journey into the past, perhaps lacking the wit of Coward’s original work, but at least taking advantage of the medium to expand his world and tell this story on a broader stage. Less of a disaster, and more of a solid but unremarkable stage-to-screen adaptation that doesn’t translate as perfectly as it should, making for a middling effort that offers us a couple of hours of mindless entertainment, but doesn’t do much more, especially not in terms of paying tribute to its creator, whose words have rarely felt less enthralling than they have in this adaptation.

A film like Blithe Spirit had an intimidating reputation to honour, especially since this is one of Coward’s plays that has remained almost omnipresent in the culture, never truly exiting the consciousness in the same way that Present Laughter has seemed to be perpetually performed in some capacity. Not only taking the play’s reputation into consideration, but the pedigree attached to the playwright, we can see why a film like this would falter when translated to screen, especially since it is helmed by someone who may be a storied veteran of stage direction, but is relatively inexperienced when it comes to adapting these same ideas to film. It’s a common mistake for theatre directors to assume that their work on stage can help them easily transition to film – it’s an entirely different medium with many constraints that are radically different to those found in live performance, and regardless of a director’s intimate working knowledge of a particular playwright or their work, or the most innovative understanding of the mechanics of theatre, the movement between the two media is not always as easy as it would appear, which is one of the primary reason towards Blithe Spirit eventually falling flat after its first act, which was undeniably promising, but still not enough to salvage the rest of the film. One medium isn’t any easier than the other, but there are a set of challenges that come about, and the combination of Hall’s novice status as a film director, and the esteem of the original work proved to be somewhat fatal to this film’s chances of being the instant classic it could’ve been.

There is an argument to be made that Coward’s plays tend to be indicative of a particular time and place, and that they mainly belong on stage – there are some incredible adaptations, but this is an opinion that is difficult to disagree with, since there is something about his work that benefits from a theatrical performance. The most significant problem with this adaptation of Blithe Spirit is that it lacks the enthusiasm and earnestness that comes from the stage – the peculiar, insatiable energy that is extracted from the inventive use of space in a theatre is missing here, and is replaced with an expansion into the wider world, which is one of the rare cases where this process is a shortcoming rather than a merit. The stage affords a text the space to flourish without the need for elaborate tricks – all it needs is a strong script, good performances and a director who understands the mechanics of staging something to captivate and enthral audiences. There is clearly a great deal of effort put into this adaptation of Blithe Spirit (especially in terms of the production design – Hall makes sure to avoid conveying the same sense of stuffy, post-war period settings that most films set in this era of British history tend to adhere to), but it doesn’t help when there is such a substantial lack of electrifying nuance that comes with the intimacy of a theatre. Even the writer himself, when he ventured into film on occasion, made sure to not employ the exact same techniques that were used on stage – what works in one medium is not automatically going to work in another, which is something that Blithe Spirit seems to struggle to realize, since there is a genuine lack of nuance in the transition from stage to the screen, which has diminishing returns, and distracts from the brilliant story at the centre.

At the very least, Blithe Spirit has a few substantial performances, which is mercifully one aspect in which the film succeeds. Dan Stevens is growing into one of the most reliable character actors working today, being able to turn in a scene-stealing supporting performance, while also delivering on the promise of being a very gifted leading man, as evident in this film. Blithe Spirit makes sure to utilize Stevens’ natural talents in every way it can – his dashing, debonair appearance, contrasted with his ability to play eccentric (perhaps even slightly unhinged) without crossing the boundary into demented or deranged. He’s remarkably competent in this role, even when the film around him isn’t nearly as worthy of his efforts, which makes his work here more notable, since he does his best to elevate it. The role of Madame Arcati (which many consider to be the most memorable of the entire production, and the one that has attracted several high-profile actresses), is occupied by Dame Judi Dench, who is given the same free reign to interpret the character on her own terms as Dame Angela Lansbury, who played the role on stage several times across the last two decades. Dench is a fantastic successor to Lansbury’s game-changing performance, and delivers on the promise of bringing her usual captivating warmth and unique charms, while still having some fun with the role and turning it into something memorable. Isla Fisher and Leslie Mann round out the major cast, and while both are excellent performers and put in a substantial amount of effort, they unfortunately fall victim to the fact that this is a film adaptation, and the focus is regularly shifted away from them, even if they’re turning in strong portrayals of these characters. Regardless, if there is any reason to seek out this version of Blithe Spirit, other than the very entertaining story, it can easily be found in the cast and their wonderful chemistry with one another, as well as their unique interpretations of these characters.

I normally tend to avoid conservations about how one medium is often considered more prestigious, since it can veer into elitism, especially when dealing with a medium as inaccessible to many people as theatre, but if there was ever any evidence towards some works being better-suited for the stage, they can all be found in Blithe Spirit, which tries its best to honour the source material, but only manages to barely scratch the surface of Coward’s brilliant writing. The film is very well-made in terms of its aesthetic, and there are some stunning shots that show a sincere amount of effort went into its creation. The problem is that, even when it is gorgeously composed, there is a lifelessness that rapidly takes over, around the time the central conceit of the story emerges and we understand where it is going – everything prior to the deceased wife’s arrival is strong, and even in the aftermath, there are some lovely moments. The problem comes in how it steadily begins to decline, becoming somewhat repetitive, and the development of the characters not feeling as authentic as it should be in a better version of this story. Entertaining, but not nearly as effective as it could’ve been with the right directorial vision guiding it, this version of Blithe Spirit is sorely lacking in the spark that made Coward’s original play all the more endearing, and trades in its heart for the spectacle, with is not always the wisest choice when adapting as cherished and meaningful a work as this, a play which has captivated audiences for over half a century, all due to the enchanting magnetism that this film adaptation just never quite manages to hold onto for very long.