Unity (35 page)

Throughout 2001, I sought out the remaining participants in the Unity story. If distrust stood in my way with the German actors, death did so with the British. Sir Hallam Bamforth died in 1984, days before starting work on the one role for which he remained perfect casting, the Abbot in Hugh Hudson’s
The Trappist
. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he has suffered no decline in
reputation
(witness the £2500 recently fetched at auction by his funeral service-sheet adorned with doodles by Dame Hattie Lanchester). Geraldine Mortimer was killed in Warsaw in 1986, while shooting a car chase for
Necropolis
, the film she was making with Gérard Depardieu for Andrzej Wajda. In a moment of bravado, and with a nod to her youth, she dispensed with the services of a double. Unlike
Unity
, the aptly named
Necropolis
was released in spite of its leading actress’s death. Her father survived her by two years. Having finally secured his knighthood, he retired to the country where, according to his widow, the protracted legal wrangling over Geraldine’s estate hastened his end. Dora Manners, though living, is no longer lucid, having contracted Alzheimer’s just when her appearance in the BBC docusoap,
Old Timers
, had won her a new generation of fans.

Contacting Carole Medhurst posed problems of a different order. As a leading Hollywood producer, then working with another Unity survivor, Liam Finch, she was shielded by an army of
assistants
who placed writers on a par with stalkers and the press. Through the good offices of a mutual friend, Marie-Olivier Septier, I was able, however, to obtain Medhurst’s private e-mail address, establishing a means of communication whose blend of
informality
and distance seemed eminently suited to my approach.

Despite dredging her memories, Medhurst came up with little of substance about Felicity. The favourite-sister status of the
characters
they played had not been reflected in any off-screen intimacy. Her chief concern, then as now, was with Felicity’s reverence for Geraldine Mortimer. This helped to redress the balance since, perhaps on account of my gender (which, according to Geraldine’s journal for 7 September 1977, outweighs any other consideration), I have explained Felicity’s conduct largely by her relationship with men. Notwithstanding the bias, of which she makes no secret, I find Medhurst’s theory persuasive. Her animus against Geraldine is informed by a long-held suspicion of political activism, which has hardened in Hollywood. Nevertheless, her depiction of the international terror network in general and of Ahmet Samif in particular destroys any romantic notion with which I might still invest the figure of the terrorist. Samif’s cynical denial of the Holocaust has an even deadlier ring twenty-five years on, when a key weapon in the extremists’ armoury is
Mein Kampf
, which they cite not as a protest or a provocation but an inspiration, displaying a blithe disregard for their own Semitic heritage.

In her portrait of a privileged young woman engaged in radical politics, Medhurst offers me a further analogy. But, although her doubts about Geraldine’s sincerity echo my own about Felicity’s, I cling to the hope that, beneath all the sloganizing, Felicity felt a genuine anger about the abuse of power and the condition of the oppressed. Some years ago, a common formula adopted by
apologists
for militant activists was that ‘their hearts are bigger than their heads’. It is my understanding of Felicity and Geraldine – and, for that matter, Unity and Diana – that, in their readiness to ride roughshod over others, their egos were bigger than both. 

Dear Carole,

You don’t know me but I am a friend of Marie-Olivier Septier (who sends kisses). I was also a friend of both Luke Dent, who died last month, and Felicity Benthall, and was the third member of the trio who, back in 1976, conceived of a play based on the life of Unity Mitford.

Last year, I was shown a copy of Geraldine Mortimer’s journal for the period during which you were filming
Unity
. It forced me to reconsider the whole saga, something that I had resisted (perhaps too emphatically) in the past. I had hoped that Geraldine’s account might help me to solve the mystery of Felicity’s motives, but it differs so markedly from Luke’s that it has merely left me more confused.

It may be the novelist in me but I remain convinced that it is possible to determine the truth behind people’s actions. With that in mind, I am trying to make contact with various survivors of the
Unity
debacle (I trust that you see it in that way). Marie-O has often spoken of you and your participation in the film (one that is well documented by Geraldine) and I am hoping that you may be able to share your memories with me, either by mail (e or snail), by phone or in person. I am quite prepared to fly to Los Angeles should you consider it appropriate.

As previously stated, I am a novelist, not a journalist. If – and it’s by no means certain – my researches ever appear in print, they will take the form of a sober assessment of both the film and the surrounding furore.

I do hope that you will feel able to assist me in this project.

Yours, with best wishes,

Michael Arditti

Help!

I was aware somewhere in the back of my mind that Marie-O had a friend associated with the
Unity
abortion (I use the word
clinically
), although I must confess that I’d forgotten exactly how. I remember being struck by the coincidence until I realised that, since Marie-O knows everyone, it’s no surprise that she knows us! Please give her my love. I owe her an e-mail.

Like you, I’ve spent the last twenty years or so trying to erase
Unity
from my brain. It was without doubt the most miserable experience of my professional life (and there’ve been a few!). I went in with such hopes. It was my first movie role and I was working for one of Europe’s top directors. I had never been
enamoured
of the Mitfords, who seemed to me to represent a nostalgic ideal to which the British are all too prone – a nursery world of private codes and arcane nicknames, where perverse behaviour can be laughed off as eccentricity and ideological conflicts passed off as sisterly spats. Nevertheless, I felt sure that Meier, with his continental sensitivity, would cut through the cant. What’s more, as one still wedded to a communal ideal, I was as impressed by his methods as his skills. His reliance on the same pool of actors amounted almost to a cottage industry.

I adored the script – incidentally, I’m truly sorry to hear about
Luke. He was such an attractive man. I think half the unit was a little in love with him (no, that would be a confession too far!). Shooting in England went smoothly but, from the moment we arrived in Germany, as I expect you’ve already discovered,
everything
began to unravel. I’d like to give you what help I can – not least to balance Geraldine’s distortions. I’m amazed to hear that she was keeping a journal and somewhat apprehensive to find that I’m in it. Would you be able to send me the relevant entries? (I suggest that you cut and paste as I’m having trouble with
attachments
). Time, as ever, is the big problem. Marie-O is always so generous with hers that she assumes all her friends will be the same. My company is on the verge of a major development deal. We’re expecting the go-ahead any day. So forgive me if my
contribution
is rushed. What’s more, I’d prefer not to serve up my memories cold but, if you ask specific questions, I’ll do my best to answer them.

Cheers!

Carole M.

Dear Carole,

I’m delighted that you can spare the time from your hectic schedule to respond to my queries. You’re quite right. I can’t expect a twenty-year-old stream of consciousness. So I’ve compiled a list of questions which I hope will prod your memory in a useful direction, but please don’t feel restricted by it should you wish to raise anything else.

I don’t have Geraldine’s journal on disc, so I’ll Fed-Ex the
pertinent 
months to you as soon as I’ve transmitted this e-mail. That way they should be with you by tomorrow.

Questions:

Thanking you in anticipation.

Yours, with best wishes,

Michael Arditti

The journal arrived safely. Many thanks for its prompt dispatch. I’ve barely had time to turn the pages but already a pattern is starting to emerge: such egotism! Talk about the Me Generation. I know it’s a diary but, even so, you’d think she’d be a little more receptive to the wider world.
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I’ve glanced through your list of questions. It’s quite a tall order, but I’ll see what I can scrape together as soon as I have a spare hour. In the meantime, if you want a better idea of where I’m coming from, you might like to pick up a copy of my
autobiography
.
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I wouldn’t recommend it but, fortunately, Oprah did!

I’ll be in touch,

Carole

Dear Carole,

Having heard nothing from you for over a week, I’ve begun to worry that you may have been laid low by an accident or some
personal crisis. Call me paranoid but I even wondered whether you might have had second thoughts about helping me. I have, at least, taken advantage of the delay to read
Pizzas
…, which I enjoyed immensely. What a story! The one drawback is that it has made me more impatient than ever to read your reminiscences. I’m well aware of the pressures you’re under: it’s not all
Hock-neying
in Hollywood. This is just to let you know that I’m on the other end of a modem whenever you have a moment.

Yours, with best wishes,

Michael

Sorry to have been so out of touch but we’re in final negotiations with a very big (not least from the neck up!) British star, who’s making more and more demands.
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Would you believe that a multi-million dollar deal could founder on the tax status of his masseur? One way or another, things have to be settled this week. Then I promise I’ll put my mind to the past.

Cheers!

Carole