 is hired by the fretful Mr. Fairlie (Ian Richardson) to instruct his two nieces, Laura and Marian (Justine Waddell and <i>Sirens</i>‘ Tara Fitzgerald, respectively). On his way to their house, Hartright is startled by an encounter with a mysterious, ghostly apparition.</p>
<p>Upon meeting Fairlie’s nieces, Hartright is struck by Laura’s resemblance to the woman in white, and tells each of his vision. Determined to learn all they can about the woman in white, the girls find themselves drawn into a vortex or secrets, crime and recrimination — all of which leads them to Count Fosco (the late, great Simon Callow, of <a href=)
Four Weddings and a Funeral). More mystery ensues.
The Moonstone, meanwhile, tells the story of a sacret Hindu diamond. While lesser known, and additionally a bit less taut and steeped in moodiness than its companion piece here, it’s an equally well-sketched tale, and capably brought to screen in this version from director Robert Bierman. When jewel thief John Hearncastle (Terrance Hardiman) nabs the titular yellow stone from the head of a Moon God statue, and passes it along his niece Rachel (Keeley Hawes) on occasion of her 18th birthday, it sets off a wild chain of events. Rachel’s boyfriend, Franklin Blake (Greg Wise), immediately offers to have the stone mounted, but the next morning it’s missing again, and London detective Sergeant Cuff (Anthony Sher) is called in to investigate. As he uncovers a web of lies, no family member is above suspicion. Kevin Elyot’s adaptation tweaks a good bit of the dialogue, but retains Collins’ galloping sense of fated doom.
The Wilkie Collins Set is offered forth in a sturdy cardboard slipcase, with each title coming in its own respective plastic Amray case. The 1.33:1 full screen video transfers are fairly solid, with only a bit of color irregularity marring some of The Moonstone‘s outdoor passages. There are unfortunately no supplemental features offered on the titles, but if it’s straightforward, well acted presentations of literary classics you crave and live productions are far outside of your zipcode, you could do much, much worse than these earnest, well-mounted offerings. B (Movies) C (Discs)