The first episode of the TV adaptation of Mr Loverman is preceded by the quotation: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Those words, voiced by protagonist Barry, belong to writer and civil rights activist James Baldwin, from his 1962 New York Times essay, As Much Truth as One Can Bear.
The quotation alerts us to two important things about Barry in the TV drama – his vulnerability and his love of words. Barry avoids facing what he needs to change and distracts himself with his comfortable family home, his practised dapper style, ready eloquence and alcohol.
British-Nigerian author Bernardine Evaristo published Mr Loverman in 2013. This genuinely groundbreaking novel portrays Barry and Morris, in love since their youth, who emigrated from Antigua to London as part of the Windrush generation (1948-1973).
Now in their 70s, they remain committed lovers and partners in all ways except publicly. Reviews of the TV drama are mostly five star, describing it as “magnificent”, “beautiful”, “moving” and “vibrant”.
Evaristo wanted to write a different kind of Windrush story and Mr Loverman is certainly that. It depicts older, black, gay men who have lived in London for 50 years. The typical Windrush story is the dashed hopes of colonial subjects finding racism and poverty in Britain instead of a bounteous homecoming.
The writers Sam Selvon and Buchi Emecheta are well-known tellers of these stories. Barry and Morris migrated with a very different but equally hopeful dream: anonymity and freedom to live as partners away from Antigua’s oppressive anti-homosexuality laws and the hostile observation of their community.
The novel is equally innovative in its depiction of gay men: the coming-of-age, coming-out story predominates, but Barry and Morris never doubt their sexuality or commitment to each other. The problem is the wider community. The novel traces Barry’s faltering steps as he tries to leave his wife to live with Morris. The TV adaptation, scripted by Nathaniel Price and directed by Hong Khaou, is faithful in many ways, but makes several important changes.
Barry’s reliance on alcohol is one difference: in the TV adaptation, his generosity with rum feels like problem drinking. And in the novel, Barry’s wife Carmel experienced post-natal depression. Barry was a devoted husband and parent during these years, strengthening his relationship with his daughters and attachment to their home.
The TV version replaces a conversation where Barry supports Carmel suffering from depression with a similar interaction, but this time Carmel coaxes her husband to shake off another bedbound hangover.
Barry’s increased vulnerability in the TV version is conveyed in other ways, too. The BBC drama intensifies the scrutiny the men face: Barry and Morris were caught having sex in Antigua as young men; Barry is the victim of an attack while initiating gay sex in a public park; and he is traumatised by the memory of a black gay man killed in the London Jamaican community.
Likewise, in the BBC drama, Maxine pressures her father to rekindle his relationship with her mother; in the novel, Maxine knows Barry and Morris are together. These changes explain what Barry describes, in episode six, as his lack of courage to live honestly.
Cultural changes over the last decade
Feedback on Mr Loverman acknowledges that homophobic attacks are still a significant risk. However, since the novel’s publication in 2013 both the legal position for gay couples and public opinion about sexuality has changed.
The TV series is set in the 2020s, and makes reference to gay marriage (legalised in the UK in 2014), George Michael’s death in 2016, and popular culture and technology such as grandson Daniel’s TikTok videos (the platform launched globally in 2018). This gives the story renewed vitality, and means Barry and Morris could now get married, which Morris expects. When Barry rejects Morris’s proposal, we understand this is motivated by Barry’s vulnerability, driven by the exhausting presence of the other people in their lives.
Whereas Barry’s perspective dominates the novel with short sections narrated by Carmel, the TV adaptation focuses on several other characters: Carmel and Barry’s daughters Donna and Maxine, and Donna’s son Daniel have more space, as does Morris and his former wife Odette.
Some reviewers suggest plotlines about Daniel, Donna, Maxine and Carmel’s church friends are an unnecessary distraction from the central relationship between Barry and Morris. But this is essential: without the constant pressure of their community, Barry and Morris would be able to be together.
The external pressures lead Barry to rely upon the familiar comforts of his domestic space. Critical responses to the novel focus on the importance of Barry and Carmel’s home, suggesting that his house is as important as his family to his identity.
The TV series notices the same thing: the BBC story announcing the series took place on set, and features Evaristo’s response to the domestic interior. It includes images of passages from the novel which set designers used to construct the home authentically.
In episode six, Barry and Carmel have a conversation that, on the surface, is about their house: Barry says he bought and owns it, while Carmel replies that she made it a home. The inferred content of their conversation is their enduring adherence to conventional family life.
Barry’s education and love of books is an important part of his personality. While some reviewers suggest the adaptation is a little wordy, feels more like a play, or is too directly taken from the novel, this is, in fact, part of the adaptation’s stylish rendition of an important story.
As all the reviews agree though, Barry is played by Lennie James with captivating credibility. The novel is a firm favourite and the subtle changes made to the TV series will help it to reach a new and equally devoted audience.
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Jenni Ramone does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
