The choice between excitement and security can be challenging, and many have fallen victim to the consequences of venturing down one avenue when the alternative is actually the one that is more reliable and worth their time. In the case of Quartet, this manifests in the very simple story of an impressionable young French woman who finds her life thrown into disarray after her husband is arrested for art theft, leaving her without any security or guidance on how to navigate life while he is in prison. It doesn’t take long for her to be noticed by the Heidlers, a wealthy British couple who have made their home in Paris, and who take an interest in the young woman, inviting her to stay in their spare room as long as she needs – but she eventually realizes that this arrangement is not merely an act of charity, but rather comes at a cost, which involves severe manipulation and exploitation of her innocence, leading to a provocative game of cat-and-mouse between the various parties. Directed by James Ivory in one of his many collaborations with producing partner and longtime companion Ismail Merchant and screenwriter Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, who was adapting the novel of the same title by Jean Rhys, Quartet is a peculiar film, but not one without its merits, all of which are effectively contained in the layers of the story, examining culture and social structure in the 1920s as Europe stood in between two major wars, and continued to develop a new identity as time progressed. Not a major work by any means, but still one that earns a significant degree of acclaim and attention for how it navigates certain challenges, Quartet has its moments of ingenuity, particularly in how it provides yet another opportunity for this iconoclastic trio to examine certain socio-cultural subjects that are commonly found throughout their groundbreaking work.

One of the great injustices done to the legacy of Merchant Ivory and their remarkable artistic output is the labelling of their works as being nothing but stuffy, overly didactic period dramas that are more insistent on lavish, academic studies of the past than they are well-developed narratives. Nothing could be further from the truth, and any self-respecting lover of art and cinema will have the revelatory moment in which they suddenly understand precisely why this pair (as well as Prawer Jhabvala, whose impact on their work cannot ever be overstated) reigned over the medium for several decades. Quartet is oddly one of the films that proves to be the most seamless transition into understanding their appeal, despite it being a slightly lesser work in the eyes of even the most devoted supporters of their films. The reason is based on its simplicity – this is a straightforward story of a young woman taking advantage of the kindness of strangers, only to realise that true charity does not exist, and instead, they expect something in return. Throughout this film, Ivory examines the dynamic between the central four characters (the titular quartet, although you can argue one of the roles is more a symbolic addition than it is an actual element of the plot) as they challenge and provoke each other, using their partners and romantic conquests as pawns to further their own desires, whether they are the carnal cravings of lust, or something far more sinister. The film is a rapid-fire exploration of how anyone can be carefully manipulated to do the bidding of others, but it is often the case that those with the most experience are usually the ones who are most likely to be exploited and provoked. The addition of the setting – Paris in the 1920s – only enriches the narrative and makes it stronger and more compelling.

Thematically, Quartet is quite strong, but it is in the execution that we begin to see the seams slowly starting to emerge, and we understand why it isn’t viewed as a particularly major entry into the Merchant Ivory canon of masterpieces. In the simplest of terms, the film is very bare and quite prosaic at the best of times – it lacks the richness of some of their more acclaimed work, and actually tends to veer towards being rather drab, which is far from ideal and the root of the ambivalence a lot of viewers have experienced when watching this film. It is quite a dour affair, and lacks the electricifying qualities that usually guide – and sometimes even define – their work, relying slightly too much on the premise rather than the implications of the story. It’s not a bad film, but rather one that doesn’t manage to reach any discernible heights, functioning instead as a more disquieting exploration of human connections through the perspective of a quartet of people trying (and failing) to manipulate one another to do their bidding. It is also very drab – the visual aesthetic is quite lacklustre, and while this is understandable, considering the film is not supposed to take place in lavish surroundings, we find that the sad interiors in which the story takes place are a firm reflection of the melancholic story. Rhys’ novel can be interpreted in many different ways, but generally most agree that it is a film that works best as a portrait of two couples who find themselves getting embroiled in a conspiracy much larger and more intimidating than they could ever fathom, and this ultimately does register quite as well as it should given how bland the overall execution, particularly the tone, tends to be throughout this film. Ivory has certainly helmed much better films, and the overall experience of seeing this film lends itself to slightly more frustration than we usually would expect from a group of artists whose work is often much more endearing.

At the very least, we find that Quartet does manage to be a good showcase for its actors – but much like Merchant Ivory and their cohorts behind the camera, this film is not the best work of anyone involved, and instead exists as a peculiar footnote for them all. In the case of Isabelle Adjani, it is the other relationship-based thriller she was in this year, but one that obviously pales in comparison to Possession, a film that eclipses this one in every way. For Maggie Smith, it is a chance for her to take a slight backseat as the frustrated cuckquean to someone who openly flirts about his infidelity – and we do enjoy watching the magnificent dame unravel in front of our eyes, but it’s peculiar how little of her trademark wit and complexity is present in this film. Alan Bates was one of the great actors of his generation, and someone who always sought more intriguing work as time progressed and he became older, and this film features him as an unexpectedly charismatic philanderer (although that magnetism could simply be the result of Bates’ inherent talents) whose own arrogance is what leads to his downfall. There is nothing quite as satisfying as a pompous patrician with delusions of grandeur receiving their comeuppance, and this film is an absolutely stellar exemplification of all of these elements existing in proximity. Anthony Higgins has the most interesting character in terms of plot function, so it stands to reason he is the least-developed, but he makes the most of his time on screen and proves to be a fantastic supporting player. The cast of Quartet is uniformly very good – but when your entire career is based on your capacity for excellence, anything less is naturally going to be disappointing.

Quartet is rarely brought up when discussing Ivory’s work, and it is usually viewed as more of a fringe effort from the acclaimed director – but this doesn’t mean that it lacks merit; they’re just slightly more disparate, while still existing in a significant form. There are qualities that we can admire in this film – its very stately and sophisticated, right down to the smallest detail, and we feel like we are receiving a glimpse into the lives of the high society, voyeurs to their petty games of cat-and-mouse in which the prize is unrequited dominance and bragging rights for as long as they can pronounce their superiority. However, the film begins to falter as soon as it needs to fill in the gaps between the bold ideas that are pleasant to look at, but far too complex to understand. Ivory is playing in an undeniably minor key – there aren’t any sweeping shots of grandeur, and the past looks quite bleak rather than enticing, and while this does serve a narrative purpose, it doesn’t ever stir much enthusiasm in the viewer, who is more likely going to benefit from attempting to look between the lines and understand the details that define certain portions of this film. A great cast turning in solid work does provide some enjoyment, but it overall becomes a relatively basic affair, one that is mildly amusing at the best of times, and which never quite earns our respect in the same way as the many other films that sprang from the effortlessly iconic Merchant Ivory, who delivers a solid but ultimately dull affair in the form of this film.