Far From the Madding Crowd review: could it be any groovier?

In the age of the internet, Gabriel Oak, the protagonist of Thomas Hardy’s 1874 novel, is a classic Nice Guy, a ‘victim’ who can’t quite understand why Bathsheba, the object of his affections, would prefer a richer or more dashing suitor over his drippy, strategic loyalty.

Bathsheba, we're supposed to think, is a cruel, capricious female, but she is, at least, fortunate enough to feature in one of the author's Earlier, Funnier Ones, thereby escaping the twisted fates imposed upon her gender in the later, ludicrous tragedies of Tess of the d'Urbervilles or Sue in Jude the Obscure.

The sheep, alas, are not always so lucky.

John Schlesinger’s adaptation doesn’t include a scene wherein Gabriel Oak (Alan Bates) takes to Twitter to denounce Nice Guy Syndrome. Yet it couldn’t be any more anachronistic if he did tweet about the perils of the Friend Zone. This 1968 film may be set at the time of the book but it smacks of the Swinging Sixties: look here, its Julie Christie’s freshly ironed hair, look there, its groovy sideburns.

The camera doesn't quite scan down to reveal a medallion on Terence Stamp's chest but we're pretty sure he's wearing one. It helps, of course, that the film features "Terry and Julie" of Waterloo Sunset fame and that Nic Roeg's cinematography has seldom seemed so 'wow, man' as it zooms in, turns on and chills out. (We have often wondered how much of the picture is Roeg's rather than Schesinger's).

But these psychedelic touches are what makes Far From the Madding Crowd one the best English literary adaptations ever. Almost 50years after it was shot, the performances are as fresh and cool as when the cast was still shopping on Carnaby Street. Far out.