The seven-year aging itch

>> 42 Up is the latest installment in Michael Apted's wondrous real-life soap opera

by MATTHEW HAYS

One can only feel a distinct sense of pity for those filmgoers who haven't yet been turned on to the British documentary 7 Up series. Begun some 35 years ago by Granada TV (and in particular Paul Almond, who would later become a pivotal Canadian filmmaker), the first documentary was intended, rather obviously, as a commentary on the constraints placed upon children by the rigid British class system. It has morphed into one of the most unendingly fascinating phenomena in documentary film history specifically and cinema history generally.

I got hooked with 28 Up. Since then, I've been struck by that my-how-time-flies feeling, as another seven years passes and another entry hits repertory screens. Like a wondrous soap opera, each episode has its own litany of revelations, some pleasing, others sad. The release of 42 Up came with its own unique backstory: Apted, the director who's overseen the last five in the series, directed The World is Not Enough, the latest James Bond entry, which was released theatrically at about the same time. Thus Apted was tied to two seemingly diametrically-opposed film projects, both franchises in their own right: big-budget Bond and no-budget, reality-based film.

Set when you're seven?

The basic tenet of the films comes thanks to the Jesuits, who opined, "Give me the child until he is seven, and I will show you the man." (The language of the quote was telling; chosen in a pre-gender-equity world, only four of the original 14 subjects were female.) While certain personality traits do appear to have remained intact, a big chunk of the sheer delight in watching this series unravel is the unpredictability of the subjects' lives. They change abruptly from one seven-year glimpse to the next. One expresses her disdain for children, only to end up joyful in motherhood. One man, once a cheerful, creative, bright young seven year old, descends into a desperate mental state, appearing near suicide. This man, perhaps the most noted of the 14, takes another turn in 42 Up--and I'm not going to be the one to ruin it for you.

The films also stand as an achievement in editing. Apted has tried to keep each chapter at about feature length, meaning less and less of earlier chapters can be included each time (42 Up runs 139 minutes). Though Apted now claims parental and familial warmth for all of his subjects, he's managed to snip out past scenes which indicated an unpleasant snootiness on his part and a certain abrasion with his subjects. In 28 Up, for example, he begins to prod his three working-class heroines about their class roots. Do they ever think, he asks for what seems like the umpteenth time, about how their class roots have held them back? "Well only every seven years," blurts out one of the trio, fed up. In 35 Up, a cabbie recounts his successes in life--which include a stint as a jockey, a movie extra and a pub owner--suggesting he's done it all. Apted fires back, "But you didn't pull it off. You didn't pull the jockey off, you haven't made it as an actor, you didn't pull off the pub." I still recall the gasps from the audience as Apted seemed to be attacking the man. To his credit, Apted left these moments in the film's earlier genesis (a good reason to see all the versions and not just rely on the latest episode).

Equally fascinating about 42 Up is the final montage, which cuts between subjects as they discuss how being a part of this widely-seen project has changed their lives. All of the comments are intriguing, but one man, who has emigrated to the U.S. where he works as a science prof, says something particularly funny. His main career goal, he explains, is to become more famous for his scientific findings than he is for appearing in the 7 Up series.

Good luck. :

42 Up opens Friday, May 5 at Cinéma du Parc