maurice

My Roman Empire is how humans hyper-specify their entirety. The fact that they think their work life and personal life should be existing as two separate entities itself baffles me. It is almost as frivolous as having a headache and visiting an otolaryngologist specifically, who then says your head is fine, might be something in your stomach that’s affecting it, and then refers you to a gastronomist, who then refers you to a neurologist…you get the picture. The truth is your body, just as your life, is one whole entity, and dissecting it into tiny bits is, perhaps, evolution’s biggest folly. 

Merchant Ivory Productions held a class of its own back in the 80s. There are a lot of interesting studies one can do on their often old-world, novella inspired works, but none is so interesting as their own little story (at least to me).

Ismail Merchant and James Ivory were gay partners in real life, their professional and romantic partnership lasted 44 years, from 1961 until Merchant’s death in 2005 – the truth of which was never publicly revealed keeping Ismail’s conservative Indian family’s acceptance in mind. It is believed that people who they worked with knew, but it was like an open secret – no one talked about it, no one passed a judgement out loud. 

While watching an episode of Rendezvous with Simi Garewal where Ismail Merchant had been interviewed in 1999 while he visited India on a location scout, one would think that here’s a guy who has it all – what a charming man with a formidable life as a producer. Clever and conniving, he was able to acquire even the most elusive locations if James had envisioned it as the background of his artsy frames. He was teasingly asked if he was seeing someone in the interview, and who she was. A master with words, he vaguely got away with saying nothing at all – but now that the truth is out there – in retrospect, I believe his expressions say it all. (see episode here)

James’ directorial position was gentle storytelling with an inward looking vision and the flamboyant Ismail used every bit of his charm to coax, cajole and bully all those associated into submission towards the larger vision of their films coming to life. It is said that once a Merchant Ivory Production film was in the making, every single one that was involved lived, ate and breathed in its existence. It is no wonder that their films have made their own little personal place in the vast film industry and often came with a genre of their own. 

Even though there might be a lot to talk about when it comes to the work by this dynamic duo, like the beauty of The Remains of the Day or the drama of A room With a View – none struck me as much as Maurice – a film ahead of its time, and an attempt at deep personal expression by its makers, as I will forever believe. 

Back in 1987, when gay people were just about living out their right to exist, and when AIDS was at its peak in the western world, Merchant Ivory ‘came out’ with a film version of the book, Maurice, written by E.M. Foster. When actors were asked to join the production – many of them refused, given the sensitivity of the subject of homosexuality. Until, that is, the dreamy and handsome Hugh Grant and the sincere and intense James Wilby signed up. The two, despite being straight in real life, gave fantastically convincing performances, as did the rest of the cast. It was almost as if Merchant and Ivory wrote a living note to the world about the sheer trauma one might experience if one is not allowed to be themselves.

This film is beautiful because it is heartfelt and honest and sincere and painfully authentic. One has to mention the always perfect frames, the soul tearing music and breathtaking locations – all fueled by a passion to tell an earnest story – the book and beyond. I do believe that both Ismail and James knew already that the film would be met with judgement which is why it might not be such a commercial hit, but they still invested in its beauty selflessly, as if it were their silent contribution towards their community and towards a more open-minded world. 

Maurice (James Wilby) and Durham (Hugh Grant) met in college by chance. They instantly bonded over music, art and study. Soon, they found themselves touching and caressing with an unsaid understanding that sex was out of question – they were simply experiencing love of another kind that should not be mentioned to anyone. When one of their comrades gets arrested for indecency being caught trying to kiss another man, Durham’s dream world went down-hill and he distanced himself from Maurice – leaving Maurice heart-broken and unstable. Durham married a girl he met while on a work-trip to Greece and Maurice went deeper and deeper down a rabbit hole of trying to ‘fix’ his sexuality – even resorting to hypnosis. When even that failed, the well-meaning doctor asked Maurice to move away from the repressed culture of England to America or Europe where homosexuality was more accepted. 

Just when Maurice felt all hope had left his side, he met a server at Durham’s estate while on a visit – Alec Scudder – an infamous young chap, often looked down upon for his sensuous rendezvous. He was seen longingly looking at Maurice, trying to make conversations with him – but Maurice was too engulfed by his own crises to notice. That is until one night, Scudder sees Maurice through his room window, trying to catch his breath after disturbed sleep. Instinctually, he climbs up the ladder and gets into his room through an open window. Almost naturally, the two of them kiss and end up making love – Maurice awakened once again to life by the touch his body and soul were begging for. 

Over the next few days, Maurice finds himself convinced that Scudder was going to report him and his sudden affection was an evil plot to either bring his ‘sickness’ out in the open, or to extract money. He rejects any of Scudder’s advances, until one day Scudder walks into his work-place (Maurice is a broker), and confronts him. They both blame and shame each other until a lot of tension builds up, but then soon find themselves in bed again at a hotel near-by. Maurice, finally convinced that there is nothing wrong with him or their relationship, asks Scudder to stay with him. Scudder, in acceptance of himself but at the same time aware that there is no hope of a normal life if he chooses to be with Maurice, rejects him and says that he is not ready for such danger. Instead, he plans to immigrate with his family in hopes of escaping his ‘reputation’, for a more respectful life. 

In the end, however, Scudder changes his mind and stays. Maurice, once heart-broken because of Durham’s abandonment, finds himself healed because of Scudder’s equal willingness to sacrifice it all and give their love a chance. When Maurice reveals his intentions to stay with Scudder despite all odds to Durham, his adverse reaction ironically shows the complexity of his character and his longing to also be able to act with the same bravery – a side of him that he settled with being shoved away. He knew he was still very much in love with Maurice, but had to conform to social norms fearing loss of his title and wealth. He was now closeted hopelessly, making the end both tragic and happy.

The beauty of this film is its haunting frames, lingering gazes and complex characters. The subtle directorial choices like use of shadows and reflections or lovers never in a hurry to dress up after having sex, all make for an exquisite movie watching experience. 

Representation, art, culture and complexities adorned James’ frames throughout – like a masterclass in how to capture nostalgic beauty agelessly. James was known for how trusted he made his actors feel, often letting them explore characters in their own light after giving them notes on what he hoped to achieve with each scene. He was often complimented on having an almost contagious passion that caught on quickly to those who worked with him, including Ismail.

There were a lot of people at the time who found comfort through the film, it was as if it acknowledged and gave a subtle respectful nod to choosing what and who makes you happy. While some despised the subject and therefore never watched the masterpiece (which is why Maurice didn’t do too well at the boxoffice), many sent the actors and producers detailed letters about how Maurice helped them come out, or even realise that they were gay in the first place. The film was successful at making queer people feel a little less lonely. And isn’t that exactly what one wants to feel when they see a movie?

In 2025, the film is still getting noticed with comments as recent as 1 day ago. Clearly, Maurice’s story still resonates with many today as a symbol of self exploration and acceptance, despite the changing times. 

While no one bats an eye anymore at same sex couples, a data analysis article released in 2024 by Gallup states that one in four of every American who identifies as LGBTQ+ faces discrimination. (source article here). Bold films like Maurice speak for those who are still finding their voice against societal torment and who dare to steer away from the general idea of normal. And even though Ismail might not be here in physical form anymore, he ensured that he made a film in his lifetime that would outlive his message of endurance and doing what makes you happy unapologetically; even though he himself never did ‘come out’ while he was alive. Perhaps, he experienced a bit of both, Maurice and Durham, through his own existence.   

I believe that films like Maurice owe their endearingness to their makers who put their own life into it, and then leave it to the world to make what they want of it. 

Maurice doesn’t dictate a thing, doesn’t advocate a thing. It simply just exists. Like James Ivory and Merchant Ismail did – lovers, producers and everything in between.